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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Revenge
Scenario:Shane Weber has led a hard broken life, a poor orphan, and his girlfriend is leaving him for a more richer prospect. But his fortune is about to change dramatically. Shane inherited immense wealth from his grandfather, shocking everyone. He was the heir to the only multi-googolaire family in the world. He endures constant criticism and judgment from those around him. He vowed that those who labeled him a failure would eventually bow at his feet. How will he use his new-found wealth to shape those around him, as he reclaims his life?. With a new-found sense of responsibility, Shane will get revenge on those who mistreated him? Will he succeed?
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Shane Weber
He is a former orphan who was raised in foster care,discovering he was the heir to a multibillion dollar inheritance. He is resilient,determined,and sarcastic. Shane struggled with poverty and was labeled a "failure" by those around him,including his exgirlfriend,Rachel. After inheriting the wealth,he decides to use it to help others and seeks out his former classmates from high school to repay their loans. He also reconnects with his biological mother.
Katherine
She is Shane's high school acquaintance who became a successful social media influencer. She is optimistic,friendly,and nurturing. Katherine was one of the first people Shane reached out to after inheriting the fortune,asking for her help in reconnecting with other former classmates. Her positive demeanor and shared history with Shane in high school make her an invaluable asset in his plan to reengage with his past.
Rachel
She is Shane's exgirlfriend who left him for someone wealthier. She is selfish,judgmental,and emotionally distant. Rachel was critical of Shane's lack of financial stability and ultimately chose to end their relationship instead of waiting for him to "make something of himself." Her actions contribute to Shane's initial selfdoubt and serve as a catalyst for his search for purpose after inheriting the inheritance.
I was an orphan and lived in foster care.
My girlfriend left me for a richer guy.
I was poor and struggling, but then I found out that I was the heir to a multibillion-dollar inheritance.
No one believed me, and even I didn't believe it at first.
But once I inherited the wealth, everyone's attitudes changed.
They were jealous and resentful of my good fortune.
I had been labeled a failure, but now I was successful beyond anyone's wildest dreams.
I vowed to make those who had wronged me pay for what they did.
I would get revenge and make them bow at my feet.
The story of my life was one of hardship and struggle, but ultimately, it was a story of triumph and victory over adversity.
And even though it took a long time coming, I finally found happiness and success in my life.
I drive my new Tesla to St. Mary's Orphanage and park around the corner so no one can see me.
I pull out my phone and access the donation portal for the orphanage.
I remember that the roof used to leak, and the heating system was broken.
The place was cold in the winter and hot in the summer.
Sister Margaret still runs the place, I see her through the window as she ushers kids to lunch.
She looks older than I remember, but she still has that kind face.
My fingers hover over the keypad before I type in $5 million.
I add a note saying that I want the money to be used to fix up the facility and for education funds for every child there.
My hands tremble slightly as I hit submit and get out of the car.
The kids are filing into the cafeteria, and they stare at me curiously as I walk by.
The gravel under my feet crunches, and it reminds me of when I used to play kickball in this same courtyard.
Sister Margaret hasn't noticed me yet; she's busy helping a small boy tie his shoelace.
She used to do that for me all the time.
I straighten my designer jacket and check my phone.
The notification says "Transfer Complete: $50,000,000."
I take a deep breath and walk across the yard.
"Sister Margaret, it's me, Shane," I call out, my voice catching slightly.
She looks up, surprised, and then her eyes widen in recognition.
"Shane? Is it really you?" she asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and warmth.
She comes over and hugs me tightly.
I hug her back, feeling a mix of emotions.
"It's really you," she says, pulling back to look at me.
"You look so different. You've grown up so much."
I smile, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over me.
"I know. It's been a long time."
Sister Margaret looks at me with kind eyes.
"How have you been? What have you been up to?"
I shrug, not wanting to get into the details of my life.
"I've been doing okay. I just wanted to stop by and see how things were going here."
Sister Margaret nods, understanding in her eyes.
"Well, we're doing okay. We've had our ups and downs, but we're managing."
I nod, feeling a sense of relief that they're doing okay.
As we talk, I notice a familiar face behind Sister Margaret.
It's Mike Chen, my old roommate from the orphanage.
He's now teaching math here.
He always wanted to be a teacher, and I'm glad he was able to achieve his dream.
"Hey, Mike," I say, waving at him.
He looks up and sees me, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Shane? Is that you?" he asks, coming over to join us.
I nod, smiling at him.
"Yeah, it's me."
Mike looks at me with a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" he asks. "Just stopping by to say hi," I reply.
Mike nods, looking at me with a mixture of awe and curiosity.
"You look so different," he says, taking in my designer clothes and expensive watch.
I shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious about my appearance.
"Yeah, I've been doing well," I say simply.
Mike nods again, still looking at me with wide eyes.
"That's great," he says finally.
Sister Margaret looks at us both with a warm smile.
"Well, it's good to see you boys catching up," she says gently.
"But I should probably get back to work."
I nod, feeling a bit disappointed that she has to go so soon.
"Okay, Sister Margaret. It was good seeing you again."
She smiles at me warmly before turning to leave.
As she walks away, Mike turns to me with a curious expression on his face.
"So what brings you here?" he asks again. "Just thought I'd stop by and say hi," I reply once more.
He nods, seeming to accept my answer.
"Well, it's good to see you again," he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
"Me too," I reply, smiling back at him.
"So, what have you been up to?" he asks.
I shrug.
"Not much. Just working."
He nods.
"I know the feeling. I've been teaching here at the orphanage for a few years now."
"Really?" I ask, surprised.
"Yeah. It's been a great experience so far."
"That's great," I say, genuinely happy for him.
He smiles.
"Yeah. It's been a lot of fun. I love working with the kids and watching them learn."
"I can imagine," I reply, nodding.
We stand there in silence for a moment before he speaks up again.
"Hey, do you want to sit down?"
I look over and see a wooden bench in the corner of the courtyard.
It's worn and weathered from years of use, but it still looks sturdy enough to hold our weight. "Sure," I reply, following him over to the bench.
We sit down and he turns to face me.
"So what do you do?" he asks.
I shrug, not really wanting to talk about my job as an escort.
"I work at a club," I say vaguely.
He raises an eyebrow at me, clearly curious about what that entails.
But he doesn't press the issue.
"Oh," he says instead.
"That sounds interesting."
"Yeah," I reply noncommittally.
He nods, seeming to sense that I don't want to talk about it any further.
"So how are you liking teaching?" I ask, changing the subject.
He smiles broadly at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners just like they used to when we were kids and he got excited about something.
"It's great," he says enthusiastically.
"I really love it."
I smile back at him, happy to see him so happy.
"That's really great," I say genuinely. He nods, his smile faltering slightly as his expression turns more serious.
"Yeah. It's not always easy, of course. But it's worth it in the end."
I nod in understanding, knowing exactly what he means by that statement.
"Definitely," I reply sincerely.
We sit there in silence for a moment before he speaks up again.
After our conversation winds down, I pull out my business card holder - sleek titanium that cost more than Mike's monthly salary.
I hesitate for a moment, then grab a plain piece of paper from my pocket instead.
I scribble down my personal cell number and hand it to him.
He takes it with a small nod.
"I'll text you soon," he promises.
"I usually grade papers at a local diner on the weekends."
I recognize the name of the place he mentions - it's the same diner where we used to dream about affording a full meal.
Standing up from the bench, I brush off my tailored pants and smile at him.
"Maybe I'll see you there next Saturday?"
"Yeah, I'd like that," Mike replies, pocketing the paper with a grin.
As I turn to leave, he calls out, "Shane, you know Sister Margaret's been worried about the orphanage closing, right?"
I stop in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat.
"What do you mean?"
I ask, turning back to face him.
"The orphanage is in financial trouble," he explains, his voice laced with concern.
"There have been rumors that the board of directors might decide to close it down if they can't find a way to cover the expenses."
I feel a knot forming in my stomach as I process his words.
The orphanage closing?
That can't happen.
I pause at my car door, my hand gripping the handle as Mike's words echo in my mind.
Through the rearview mirror, I watch him trudge back inside, shoulders slumped under the weight of uncertainty.
The donation should arrive in their account tomorrow, but they don't know that yet.
I pull out my phone and dial my financial advisor's number.
She answers on the first ring.
"Hi, Ms. Smith. I need a favor."
"Of course, Mr. Weber. What can I do for you?"
"I want you to set up an immediate meeting with the board of directors of the local orphanage."
There's a brief pause on the other end of the line.
"Is there something specific you'd like to discuss with them?"
"Just tell them it's about securing their future," I say vaguely.
"I'll make the arrangements right away," she assures me before hanging up. While waiting for her response, I study the building's crumbling facade and overgrown garden through my car window.
A group of children plays basketball on the cracked court, their laughter carrying across the yard.
As I watch them, a memory surfaces of Mike and me playing on that same court.
"Hey, Shane," Mike's voice interrupts my thoughts as he approaches the car again.
"Yeah?" I ask, rolling down the window.
"Thanks for coming back," he says sincerely, his eyes meeting mine with a hint of hope.
I sit with Mike at our old spot in the diner, the vinyl booth squeaking as he shifts closer to me.
The waitress drops off our coffee and I notice Mike hasn't even touched his menu.
He still orders the cheapest item on the menu, just like we used to.
I take a sip of my coffee, watching him over the rim of my cup.
"So, what's this about a board meeting?"
Mike asks, his brow furrowed with curiosity.
"I scheduled it for next week," I reply casually.
His eyes widen in recognition.
"Wait, you're the one who called the meeting?"
"Yeah," I admit, setting my cup down on the table.
Mike leans back in his seat, studying me intently.
"So that's why you were there yesterday," he says, connecting the dots.
"And why you're wearing such expensive clothes."
He glances down at my tailored pants and crisp white shirt.
"And driving that fancy car."
I shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious under his scrutiny. The fluorescent lights above us flicker, casting an artificial glow over the diner.
Mike reaches across the table and places his hand on top of mine.
His touch is warm and gentle, sending a shiver down my spine.
"I always believed in you, Shane," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversation around us.
"And now it's time to believe in us," I reply, squeezing his hand with quiet resolve.
In the corner booth of the diner, I stare at my untouched coffee, the steam rising in a thin column.
Mike's hand rests gently on mine, his touch grounding me in this moment.
The waitress's footsteps fade into the background as I pull out my phone and open my banking app.
My hands tremble slightly as I slide it across the table to Mike.
His eyes widen at the account balance displayed on the screen, his mouth dropping open in disbelief.
He looks up at me, questioning.
I nod slowly, my voice barely above a whisper.
"It's all mine," I explain, my words hanging in the air like a fragile promise.
"I inherited it from my grandfather. He was a wealthy man."
Mike's eyes search mine, seeking answers to unspoken questions.
I take a deep breath before continuing.
"I've been planning to use this money to help St. Mary's," I confess, my voice filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability.
"I want to make sure the orphanage never has to close its doors again."
Mike sits back in his seat, processing the weight of my revelation.
His coffee grows cold on the table between us, forgotten in the wake of our conversation.
The diner buzzes around us, but we remain lost in our own world.
Mike's eyes glisten with gratitude as he whispers, "Together, we'll make it happen."
I sit in my study, surrounded by stacks of documents that detail my inheritance.
My hands tremble as I flip through the pages, listing everything from private islands in the Caribbean to mega yachts in the Mediterranean.
The number keeps jumping out at me - 350 googol dollars.
It's an amount so vast my mind can't even begin to process it.
As I sift through the papers, a blue Citibank card catches my eye.
It's tucked between the pages, adorned with a platinum W.
I pick it up, feeling its weight in my palm.
The magnitude of this wealth hits me like a wave as I remember scrounging for quarters on this very floor just months ago.
I close the folder, resolve hardening in my chest, ready to reshape the future.
In my home office, I pull up St. Mary's contact information on my laptop while glancing at the inheritance folder beside me.
My fingers hover over the phone keypad as I rehearse what to say.
The director's secretary answers, her voice crisp and professional.
"St. Mary's Orphanage, how may I help you?"
I take a deep breath before speaking.
"Hello, my name is Shane. I used to be a resident there and I'd like to speak with Director Phillips, please."
There's a brief pause before she responds.
"May I ask what this is regarding?"
"It's about the orphanage," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
"I'd like to discuss some matters with him."
She puts me on hold for a few minutes before Director Phillips' gruff voice comes through the line.
"Yes?"
"Director Phillips, this is Shane Weber. You might remember me from when I lived at St. Mary's," I explain, hoping he recalls me.
There's a moment of silence before he responds.
"Oh yes, you're that boy who left us last year."
"That's right," I confirm, my heart racing slightly.
"I've recently come into some money and I'd like to discuss how I can help the orphanage."
There's another pause before he speaks again.
"What kind of money are we talking about?" "Substantial financial support," I reply, choosing my words carefully.
"I believe it could make a significant difference for the children there."
His tone shifts from dismissive to cautious interest.
"I see. Well, perhaps we should discuss this further in person. Would you be available to meet tomorrow morning?"
I nod, even though he can't see me through the phone.
"Yes, that would be fine. What time?"
"How about 10 am?" he suggests.
"Sounds good," I agree, jotting down the time in my calendar.
Sitting at my mahogany desk, I pull up the financial records of St. Mary's Orphanage on my laptop.
The annual expenses and debt are substantial, and I create a spreadsheet to break down the immediate needs.
Roof repairs, upgrading the heating system, new beds, and educational supplies are all high on the list.
As I add up the costs, the numbers quickly climb past $100 million.
I also consider long-term investments, such as setting aside funds for staff salaries and college funds for the children.
My fingers pause over the keyboard when I reach the section for facility expansion plans.
Remembering how cramped the dormitories were during my time there, I decide to add another wing to the blueprint.
Finally, I print out the proposal, my printer humming in the quiet office.
The next morning, as I sit across from Director Phillips in his modest office, he leans forward with a curious expression.
"So, Shane, tell me more about your vision for St. Mary's," he prompts, his eyes narrowing slightly.
I hand him the proposal and say, "I want to ensure every child here has the opportunities I never did."
While discussing my proposal with Director Phillips in his cramped office, a tall man in an expensive suit suddenly appears in the doorway.
He introduces himself as Marcus Chen, a venture capitalist who happened to be touring potential charity projects.
He overheard our conversation through the thin walls and seems genuinely moved by my story.
Phillips straightens in his chair as Marcus pulls up a chair, explaining how he'd been looking for meaningful ways to invest his fortune.
He takes out his phone, pulls up his banking app, and promises to match my $100 million donation dollar for dollar.
Director Phillips looks between us, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Are you both serious about this?" he asks, his voice a mix of hope and skepticism.
Marcus nods confidently, "Absolutely, I believe in Shane's vision and want to be part of this transformation."
After Marcus offers to match my donation, I stand and extend my hand across Director Phillips's mahogany desk.
Marcus's grip is firm and confident as we shake hands, his expensive watch glinting under the office lights.
Director Phillips watches us with wide eyes, his earlier skepticism replaced by stunned silence.
The handshake feels like more than just a business agreement - it represents a real chance to transform St. Mary's.
I notice Marcus studying my face intently, as if searching for something.
"Shane, what made you come back here after all this time?" Marcus asks, his voice curious but gentle.
I hesitate for a moment before answering, "I couldn't forget the kids who were still there, living the life I left behind."
Director Phillips leans back in his chair, nodding slowly. "And with both of your help, we can finally give them the future they deserve."
While we continue discussing the renovation plans, Marcus's phone buzzes in his pocket.
He excuses himself, stepping into the hallway to take the call.
I hear his muffled voice speaking in hushed tones.
Meanwhile, Director Phillips and I review the blueprints spread across his desk, pointing out areas for improvement.
As we discuss, I notice Marcus re-entering the room.
His expression has shifted from neutral to one of shock.
He approaches the desk, his hands slightly trembling as he sets down his phone.
"The Westbrook Foundation," he says, his voice filled with disbelief.
"They want to match both our donations."
Director Phillips drops his pen, and I grip the edge of the desk to steady myself.
While Director Phillips and I continue reviewing the blueprints, a knock at the door interrupts our conversation.
"Come in," Director Phillips calls out.
A young woman enters the room, dressed in a crisp architect's suit.
I recognize her as Sarah Chen, a former St. Mary's resident who had left around the same time I did.
She smiles warmly as she approaches us.
"I heard about the renovation project and wanted to offer my services," she explains, her voice confident.
"I've been following your work, Shane, and I believe I can help."
She spreads several detailed sketches across the desk, pointing out structural improvements we had missed - better classroom layouts, a modern library design, and a safer playground configuration.
As she explains her ideas, her passion for architecture shines through in every precise line she draws.
"I remember how the old building affected us as kids," she says, glancing at me briefly.
"I want to make sure this new place is everything we needed back then."
I lean back in my chair, watching as Marcus checks his phone, which has started buzzing again.
He frowns for a moment before his expression brightens.
"Look at this," he says, turning his phone to show us an email on the screen.
"It's from the Westbrook Foundation."
Director Phillips leans forward, his curiosity piqued.
Marcus reads aloud from the email, "They're impressed with Sarah's architectural plans and want to provide an additional $50 million specifically for her designs."
My eyes widen as I read through the email.
It mentions specific aspects of Sarah's plans that caught their attention - the solar-powered library, the eco-friendly playground, and the sustainable materials used throughout the building.
Sarah's hands tremble slightly as she reads the email, her face filled with a mix of disbelief and pride.
Director Phillips starts calculating the new total on his notepad.
"That brings us to $450 million total for St. Mary's," he says, his voice filled with awe.
As I watch Sarah's eyes fill with tears, I realize how much this moment means to her - a chance to give back to the place that once provided her with shelter and support. Marcus turns to Sarah, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Your designs caught their attention because they saw something special in them," he explains gently.
"Something that comes from your own experiences as a child here at St. Mary's."
Sarah nods, her voice steady as she replies, "Then let's build something unforgettable."
I review the final construction permits in Director Phillips's office, the sound of workers setting up chairs on the front lawn for next week's ceremony drifting through the window.
The once-empty field will soon be filled with hundreds of guests.
Phillips hands me the ceremony schedule, pointing out my speaking slot after the mayor.
My hands grip the paper tightly as I see Rachel's name on the media attendance list - she's now a local reporter.
Sarah enters with updated blueprints, spreading them across Phillips's desk.
She suggests we display these designs during the ceremony to show everyone our vision.
While we review the ceremony details, my phone buzzes on the table.
I glance down, seeing "Channel 7 News" flash on the screen.
I pick up the call, putting it on speaker so Phillips and Sarah can hear.
A producer's voice fills the room.
"Mr. Marcus, we're interested in featuring St. Mary's renovation project on our highest-rated evening segment next week."
Sarah's eyes widen as she listens intently.
The producer continues, "We'll focus on the architectural innovations and the unprecedented funding coalition."
My stomach tightens when she mentions wanting to interview all major donors on camera.
I glance at the blueprints spread across Phillips's desk, knowing Rachel will see this broadcast.
I nod at Sarah, feeling the weight of our shared history and the future we're about to unveil.
I sit in my office, reviewing the talking points for tomorrow's Channel 7 interview.
My notes are filled with key points about St. Mary's renovation plans, emphasizing Sarah's sustainable designs and the commitment of our donor coalition.
The phone rings, breaking the silence.
It's the producer from Channel 7, asking if they can take some pre-interview photos of the blueprints.
I text Sarah, and she arrives minutes later with her portfolio.
Together, we select images that showcase the best aspects of the project.
Sarah suggests starting with the solar-powered library, tracing her fingers over the design as she explains its features.
I add her technical details to my notes.
I sit at my desk, reviewing the latest budget reports for St. Mary's renovation.
The numbers align perfectly, and I feel a sense of satisfaction.
Suddenly, Director Phillips bursts into my office without knocking.
His face is flushed with excitement as he waves a document in his hand.
"Marcus, you won't believe this," he says breathlessly.
"We just received word from an anonymous donor. They're pledging an additional $200 million to the project."
My eyes widen in shock as I process the news.
Phillips hands me the paperwork, and I notice that the donor's signature is deliberately obscured to maintain anonymity.
I quickly calculate the new total - $650 million.
"Phillips, this changes everything," I say, my voice filled with anticipation.
He nods in agreement, his face mirroring my excitement.
I pick up the phone and dial Sarah's number, eager to share the news with her.
She answers on the first ring, her voice filled with curiosity.
"Sarah, you won't believe this," I say, barely containing my enthusiasm.
"The anonymous donor has pledged an additional $200 million. We can now build everything you originally envisioned."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I worry that I've lost the connection.
"Shane, that's incredible," Sarah finally replies, her voice a mix of disbelief and joy.
"I know, right? This means we can incorporate the community center and the green spaces you designed."
Her voice softens, carrying a hint of something deeper, "It's like someone out there truly believes in what we're doing."
I gather our team in the conference room to discuss the expanded budget.
Sarah spreads her blueprints across the mahogany table while Marcus and Director Phillips take their seats.
As we review the plans, Sarah suggests adding more facilities.
Marcus nods in agreement, and I notice a flicker of excitement in his eyes.
"We should bring in David Chen," Sarah says, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
"He's a renowned architect known for sustainable community spaces."
Her eyes light up as she explains his work.
Just then, my phone buzzes on the table.
It's Channel 4 News, offering to broadcast our groundbreaking ceremony live.
The others fall silent as I put the call on speaker.
The producer's voice fills the room, detailing their coverage plans for next week's ceremony.
I agree to the broadcast, knowing this moment will define our legacy.
I pull out my phone and search through my contacts for David Chen's number, which Marcus shared earlier.
Sarah leans over my shoulder, watching intently as I dial.
The conference room falls silent except for the ring tone echoing through the speaker.
When David answers, his voice sounds tired from his Tokyo project.
I introduce myself and explain our vision for St. Mary's, emphasizing Sarah's innovative designs.
David interrupts me mid-sentence, his voice tinged with curiosity, "I've seen the news coverage. You're the ones behind that solar library concept."
"Yes, we are," I respond, glancing at Sarah, who looks both nervous and proud.
"Tell me more about this library," David presses, his interest piqued.
Sarah jumps in, her voice growing more confident with each word.
"The idea is to create a community space that not only promotes sustainability but also serves as an educational hub. The building itself will be powered entirely by solar energy, and we're incorporating cutting-edge technology to make it energy-efficient."
As she speaks, I watch her hands move animatedly, emphasizing each point.
David's tone shifts from skepticism to genuine interest.
"That sounds fascinating. How do you plan to implement this technology?"
Sarah launches into a detailed explanation of the technical aspects, discussing everything from insulation materials to renewable energy systems.
After hanging up with David, who agreed to visit next week, I lean back in my conference room chair, processing the conversation.
Marcus pulls out his phone and starts typing.
"TechSolar," he says, looking up at me.
"They're a cutting-edge firm from Silicon Valley. I know them from my tech days."
He hands me his phone, showing me their website.
"Check this out."
I take the phone and scroll through their latest innovations.
My eyes widen as I read about their advancements in photovoltaic glass.
"This is incredible," I say, handing the phone to Sarah.
She leans over to look, her eyes widening as she reads through it.
"Imagine if we could integrate this into our design," she whispers, her voice filled with excitement.
Sarah gets up and grabs her blueprints from the corner of the room.
She spreads them across the conference table, marking areas where TechSolar's technology could be implemented.
Marcus picks up his phone again and dials a number.
"Direct line to the CEO," he explains before putting it on speaker.
The CEO answers, and as Marcus introduces our vision, I realize we're on the brink of something groundbreaking.
I lean back in my conference room chair and pull up TechSolar's contact information on my laptop.
Sarah continues marking potential solar integration points on her blueprints.
Marcus paces by the window, already texting his Silicon Valley connections.
I draft a formal email to TechSolar's CEO, detailing our $650 million orphanage renovation project and David Chen's involvement.
After showing the draft to Sarah for technical accuracy, I propose meeting next Tuesday at their headquarters.
Marcus immediately offers his private jet for the trip.