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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 is the heir to a multibillion dollar fortune. He is resilient,sarcastic,and determined. Shane faced immense poverty and hardship but never gave up. His life took a drastic turn when his adoptive parents kicked him out due to financial struggles. His exgirlfriend left him for someone richer. Despite criticism and judgment,Shane inherits the wealth,vowing revenge and social climb.
Grandfather
He is Shane’s wealthy grandfather who left him his entire estate. He is wise,secretive,and protective. Grandfather showed kindness to Shane by taking him in as a child and providing for his needs anonymously through gifts. Only revealing the extent of his generosity after his death,Grandfather’s actions ultimately changed Shane's fate from poverty to wealth,giving Shane the means to seek revenge on those who wronged him.
Penelope
She is Shane's exgirlfriend who left him for another man due to financial reasons. She is selfish,materialistic,and shallow. Penelope valued Shane only for his potential wealth,discarding him as soon as she found someone richer. Her relationship with Shane was marked by her constant criticism and desire for luxury,ultimately leading to their breakup and failure of their future plans.
I was an orphan, a poor boy with no one to care for me.
I was raised in foster care, moving home to home until I was sixteen.
At that point, I was placed with adoptive parents who promised to love and care for me until I was eighteen and completed high school.
They did, but they also made me work off my keep from the time I moved in.
I worked a part-time job after school and also helped with the household chores.
It wasn’t so bad, until I turned seventeen.
That was when my adoptive parents informed me they were having financial troubles.
They couldn’t afford to keep me anymore, so they kicked me out.
I was forced to live on the streets until I found another job and saved enough money to rent a room.
It was hard, but I never gave up, even when things seemed impossible.
I always found a way to survive, to make it just one more day.
That was how I lived until I met Penelope.
She was beautiful and sweet, kind to me from the start.
We met at work, and she immediately caught my eye.
I asked her out and she said yes.
We were together for two years, until she left me for someone else.
I sit at my usual corner table in Joe's Diner, watching the door while my coffee grows cold.
The vinyl booth squeaks as I shift, checking my phone for what feels like the hundredth time.
Penelope texted that she'd be here at noon, and it's already five past.
I glance out the streaked window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her car.
Instead, I see her step out of a sleek black Mercedes - not her car, but her new boyfriend's.
My stomach twists as she walks toward the diner, her heels clicking against the sidewalk.
She looks beautiful, as always, in a designer dress that I could never afford.
Her dark hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her makeup is flawless.
She pushes open the door and scans the diner until her eyes land on me.
Her practiced smile falters for just a moment before she regains her composure and makes her way toward me.
"Hey," she says, sliding into the booth across from me.
She places her manicured hands on the sticky tabletop and gives me a tentative smile. "Hey," I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral.
We haven't seen each other since our fight six months ago, and I'm not sure how this is going to go.
But I have something important to tell her, and I need to get it over with.
Before she can say anything else, I pull the newspaper article out of my pocket and slide it across the table toward her.
"What's this?" she asks, picking it up and scanning the headline.
"It’s about me," I reply, watching as realization dawns on her face.
Penelope's perfectly manicured nails trace the headline - "Local Teenager Receives Full Scholarship to Princeton University."
Her eyes widen as she reads on, learning about my perfect SAT scores and my exemplary community service record.
I take a slow sip of my coffee, watching her stunned expression.
She looks up at me, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to form words.
"Wow," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I smile, satisfied with her reaction.
"It’s pretty amazing," I agree.
She looks down at the article again, reading more intently this time.
As she scans the page, I notice her grip on the paper tighten, wrinkling the edges.
Her eyes narrow as she reads on, and I can tell that she's found the part that really interests her - the part about my new apartment. "It says here that you're moving into an apartment right next to campus," she says, her voice tight with anger.
I nod, taking another sip of my coffee.
"That’s right," I reply, my tone calm and even.
"I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to live so close to school."
She looks up at me again, her eyes flashing with anger.
"And what about your job?" she demands.
"How are you going to afford an apartment on your own?"
I shrug, feigning nonchalance.
"I’ll figure something out," I reply, knowing that this will only infuriate her more.
She knows that I've been saving up for years, determined to make a better life for myself.
And now that I have this scholarship, I'm finally going to be able to live the life that I deserve. "But what about us?" she asks, her voice shaking with emotion.
"What are we supposed to do now?"
I look at her calmly, meeting her gaze without flinching.
"There is no us anymore," I reply, my voice firm but gentle.
"You made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me when you left me for him."
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off before she can speak.
"And as for where you’re going to live," I continue, "I’m sure you and your new boyfriend will figure something out."
She grips the newspaper tightly in her hands, wrinkling it even more than before.
I stand up from the sticky diner booth, leaving my untouched coffee behind.
Penelope reaches out and grabs my wrist, her manicured nails digging into my skin.
"Wait," she says, her voice tight with emotion.
"You can’t just leave like this. We need to talk about this."
I look down at her hand on my wrist, feeling a surge of anger.
I slowly peel her fingers away, one by one, remembering how she used to refuse to hold my hand in public because my clothes were too shabby.
I release her grip and take a step back, meeting her gaze without flinching.
"There’s nothing left to say," I reply, my voice firm but calm.
"I wish you all the best."
The other diners turn to stare as Penelope raises her voice.
"You think you’re too good for me now?" she demands.
"You think you can just walk away like this?"
I don’t respond, turning instead and walking toward the door.
The bell above the door chimes as I push it open, drowning out Penelope’s final protests behind me.
The morning air hits my face, crisp and clean compared to the greasy diner atmosphere.
My shoes crunch against loose gravel in the parking lot as I walk past her boyfriend’s gleaming Mercedes.
I pause for a moment, remembering all the times she complained about my beat-up Honda.
My jaw clenches at the memory, but instead of anger, something lighter takes hold.
Each step away from the diner feels easier than the last, my shoulders relaxing as I head toward my car.
I unlock the door, slide into the driver's seat, and start the engine, ready to drive toward my future.
I grip the steering wheel, watching the diner shrink in my rearview mirror.
Through the glass, I see Penelope burst out the front door, mascara running down her cheeks as she scans the parking lot.
She spots my car and waves frantically, but I press the accelerator harder.
The engine whines in protest as I merge onto the highway, leaving behind the neighborhood where we used to walk together.
The "Now Leaving" sign passes by, and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Freedom tastes like the open road.
My fingers find the volume dial on the radio, cranking it up until the bass vibrates through the worn seats.
My favorite song comes on, and the familiar melody fills the car.
Through the rearview mirror, I watch Penelope’s figure grow smaller and smaller until she disappears completely.
The car rattles over a pothole, but I barely notice.
The music swells as I merge onto the interstate, and I start humming along, tapping the beat against the steering wheel.
The horizon stretches wide before me, promising endless possibilities.
I pull into the driveway of my new studio apartment, a small, one-story building near campus.
The paint is peeling, and the railings are rusty, but it’s home for now.
I haul my single duffel bag out of the trunk and trudge up the stairs to my unit.
The door creaks as I push it open, revealing a bare mattress on the floor and empty walls.
The air smells faintly of old carpet.
I drop my bag on the mattress and collapse beside it, letting out a deep breath.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, an unknown number flashing on the screen.
I almost ignore it, but something compels me to answer on the last ring.
"Hello?"
A formal voice greets me from the other end of the line.
"Good afternoon. My name is James Morton from Morton & Associates Law Firm. May I speak with Mr. Shane Weber?"
I sit up straighter, my heart pounding against my ribs.
"Yes, that’s me."
"Mr. Weber, I’m calling regarding your grandfather’s estate. He passed away recently, and we need to discuss your inheritance."
My breath catches in my throat.
Inheritance?
I barely remember my grandfather; he was always a distant figure in my life.
"I see," I manage to say.
"Mr. Morton, what exactly does this inheritance entail?"
"Your grandfather left you his entire estate, including a property in the countryside that he insisted you visit."
"A property? I didn't even know he owned anything like that."
"I understand this may come as a shock. I’ll send over the necessary documents for your review. Please let me know if you have any questions."
The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at my phone in disbelief.
A few hours later, a knock on my door startles me from my thoughts.
I open it to find a courier holding a large manila envelope.
"Mr. Shane Weber?"
I nod, taking the envelope from him.
"Sign here, please."
I scribble my name and thank him before closing the door.
I sit down at my kitchen counter, opening the envelope and pulling out a stack of documents.
My hands shake as I flip through the pages, scanning the contents.
There are private islands in the Caribbean, a fleet of mega yachts docked in Monaco, and penthouses in every major city around the world.
The numbers blur together—billions upon billions.
When I reach the last page, a sleek blue card slides out.
The platinum W catches the light, and I remember seeing this same symbol on my grandfather’s cufflinks years ago.
My phone rings again, James’s name flashing on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Weber, I hope you received the documents. Do you have any questions?"
I glance down at the card in my hand.
"What is this?"
"That is your platinum W card. It has no spending limit. You can use it for anything you need."
I pick up the card again, feeling its substantial weight in my palm.
It’s thicker than any credit card I’ve ever held before. "And what about this property he left me? What exactly is it?"
"It’s a private estate in the countryside. Your grandfather spent most of his time there. He wanted you to have it."
I run my thumb over the embossed W on the card, thinking of Penelope’s boyfriend and his Mercedes.
"Thank you for letting me know," I say finally.
"You’re welcome, Mr. Weber. If you have any more questions or need assistance with anything, don’t hesitate to reach out."
I hang up the phone and stare at the card, lost in thought.
A knock on the door pulls me back to reality, and I open it to find Penelope standing there, eyes wide with a mix of anger and relief.
"Shane, why did you leave like that? We need to talk."
I open the door to find Penelope standing there, mascara smeared down her cheeks and her hair disheveled from chasing my car earlier.
She’s still wearing the designer dress she had on at the party, but it looks out of place in my bare apartment.
She pushes past me into the empty room, her heels clicking against the worn linoleum floor.
The inheritance papers are still scattered across my mattress, the platinum W card glinting under the fluorescent light.
Penelope’s eyes lock onto the documents, and her expression shifts from anger to confusion.
I close the door behind her, letting the heavy click echo through the room.
She walks over to the mattress and bends down to pick up the papers, scanning the pages.
Her eyes widen as she reads, and her mouth falls open.
She picks up the platinum W card, holding it delicately between her thumb and index finger.
"Where did you get this?"
I watch her face as she turns the card over in her hand.
The unlimited credit line is printed on the back.
She gasps, almost dropping the card.
I take a step closer to her, but she backs away, clutching the card to her chest.
Her perfume fills my senses, and I feel nauseous.
It’s a scent that used to drive me crazy, but now it makes me want to vomit.
"Shane," she says, trying to reach out and touch my arm.
I move away from her, picking up the inheritance papers and putting them back in their envelope.
The W card slips from her grasp as I snatch it back.
She tries to grab for it again, but it cuts into her manicured finger, leaving a small paper cut.
"Shane, please, we can work this out," she pleads, her voice trembling.
I shake my head, feeling the weight of the card in my pocket.
"Penelope, I think it's time we both face the truth about what we really want."
I stand by my mattress, watching as she dabs at her b###g finger with a silk handkerchief.
Her mascara runs down her cheeks as she tries to speak.
"Shane, I made a mistake. I never should have left you."
I hold up my hand, cutting her off.
She's obviously rehearsed this speech, but I'm not buying it.
"You left me, remember? You said I didn't have enough money for you."
I gesture at the inheritance papers on the mattress.
"Now that I have more than you could ever dream of, you want to come crawling back?"
She takes a step closer to me, her designer heels clicking on the bare floor.
"Things are different now," she says, her voice pleading.
"I know we can make this work."
I shake my head and move toward the door.
"Nope, sorry not sorry. I'm doing me now."
I walk out the door, leaving her standing there, clutching her handkerchief and staring at the inheritance papers.
"Shane," she calls after me, her voice cracking.
"Don't do this."
I ignore her and head down the hallway, my footsteps echoing off the walls.
The sunlight hits my face as I step outside, and I take a deep breath of the fresh air.
I look down at the inheritance papers in my hand and feel a sense of excitement wash over me.
I walk briskly to my old car parked on the street, unlock it, and slide into the driver's seat.
I drive away from the building, leaving Penelope behind.
The city skyline rises up in front of me as I make my way through the familiar streets.
I stop at a red light and glance down at the inheritance papers on the passenger seat.
A car horn blares behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
The light has turned green, and I accelerate through the intersection, merging onto the highway.
The open road stretches out before me, symbolizing my new beginning.
I pull over at a rest stop, still trying to process what I just read.
I spread the papers out on the dashboard and read every single line again.
The numbers dance in front of my eyes, but the total is still the same: 400 googol dollars.
A truck driver walks past my car and glances inside, raising an eyebrow at the documents spread across the dashboard.
I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that I now have more money than he could ever imagine.
I dial James Morton's number, and he answers on the first ring.
"James, it's Shane," I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the excitement coursing through me.
"I just got the inheritance papers. Is this for real?"
James chuckles on the other end of the line.
"Of course it's real, Shane. We've been over this already."
"But 400 googol dollars? That's... that's..."
"That's a lot of money," James finishes for me.
"And it's all yours now. Congratulations again, Shane."
I nod, even though he can't see me.
"Thanks, James. So what's next?"
"You'll need to come down to my office tomorrow to sign some paperwork," James explains.
"And then we'll get you set up with a new bank account and a credit card." I glance down at the platinum W card in my hand, feeling a sense of pride wash over me.
"Got it. Thanks again, James."
I hang up the phone and continue driving, my old car's engine rattling with each mile.
I pull off the highway and head to the nearest luxury car dealership.
As I turn into the lot, I see rows of sleek cars that I could only dream of owning before.
I park my old car at the end of the lot, and a salesman in a suit walks over to me, eyeing my worn-out vehicle with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.
"Can I help you with something?" he asks, his tone dripping with skepticism.
I step out of the car, clutching the inheritance papers in one hand and the platinum W card in the other.
"I want to buy a car," I tell him, my voice firm and confident.
"The most expensive one you have."
The salesman's expression changes from disdain to eagerness as he realizes I'm not just some poor soul who wandered into the wrong dealership.
"Right this way, sir," he says, leading me into the showroom.
We walk past rows of gleaming cars, each one more luxurious than the last. "What's your budget?" he asks as we stop in front of a sleek black sports car.
I smile and hand him the inheritance papers.
"This is my budget."
The salesman's eyes widen as he scans the documents, his face paling as he realizes just how much money I have at my disposal.
"Um... well... let me see what we have available," he stammers, leading me to his office and pulling out a stack of paperwork.
I sign on the dotted line, handing over my platinum W card to pay for my new purchase.
The salesman smiles and hands me the keys to my brand-new sports car, patting me on the back like an old friend.
As I walk back to my new car, Penelope's voice echoes in my mind, and I can't shake the feeling that I've left something important behind.
I slide into the driver's seat, feeling the soft leather envelop me as I start the engine.
The purring of the motor is like music to my ears as I drive off the dealership lot, merging onto the highway with ease.
The city skyline glides by in a blur as I accelerate, the wind rushing past my face through the open window.
I glance in the rearview mirror, seeing my old car fade into the distance as I speed away from it.
The thought of Penelope seeing me in this new car brings a smile to my face, and I push down on the gas pedal, eager to explore all that my new life has to offer.
I park my new car in front of my favorite coffee shop, needing a moment to process everything that's happened.
The leather steering wheel feels foreign under my hands as I pull out my phone from my pocket.
Cameron needs to hear about this - he's been there through all the hard times with Penelope.
I type out a message to him, telling him about the inheritance and how I ran into Penelope at the diner.
My fingers hover over the send button for a moment, remembering how Cameron warned me about Penelope's materialistic nature months ago.
But I push those thoughts aside and hit send.
As I step out of the car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, grounding me in this surreal new reality.
I pull into Cameron's apartment complex, my new luxury car turning heads among his neighbors who are used to seeing my old Honda.
The security guard who used to give me a hard time whenever I visited now scrambles to open the gate.
I park between two economy cars, the sleek frame of my vehicle making them look even more modest than they already are.
As I walk towards his door, I fidget with my grandfather's platinum card in my pocket, trying to figure out how to explain everything that's happened to my oldest friend.
Before I can knock on the door, it swings open and Cameron stands before me, his jaw dropped in shock.
His gaze drifts past me through the window and lands on my new car.
"Shane, is that really yours?" Cameron asks, disbelief etched across his face.
"Yeah, it is," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the excitement in my voice.
"Man, you weren't kidding about the inheritance," he says, shaking his head in amazement.
We sit in his cramped living room, both of us perched on his worn couch.
The afternoon sun streams through the dusty blinds, casting a warm glow over the space.
I fidget with my new car keys, the metal jingling softly between my fingers.
"You were right about Penelope," I admit, remembering his warnings from months ago.
Cameron nods but doesn't gloat.
Instead, he watches me carefully, waiting for me to continue.
I stand up suddenly, the keys jangling loudly in my hand.
"Let's go somewhere," I suggest, gesturing towards my new car parked outside.
"Anywhere but here."
I grab my keys and lead Cameron down to my new car, watching his eyes widen as he slides into the passenger seat and runs his fingers over the pristine leather interior.
We pull out of his apartment complex, leaving behind the familiar streets of our neighborhood.
Cameron fiddles with the controls, finally figuring out how to connect his phone to the car's premium sound system.
The thumping bass of his favorite song fills the car as we merge onto the coastal highway, the ocean breeze rushing through our hair as we pick up speed.
We pass by the beachside diner where I first met Penelope, its neon sign now a painful reminder of our past.
As we drive further north, the landscape shifts from crowded streets to winding coastal roads.
Cameron points out the ocean appearing on the horizon, its deep blue matching the sleek paint job of my new car.
"So what are you going to do with all that money?"
Cameron asks, turning down the volume of his music.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to come up with a response that makes sense.
I can't tell him about my desire for revenge against Penelope - that would make me sound petty and bitter. "I'm not sure yet," I say instead, focusing on the road ahead as we pick up speed.
"I just know I don't want it to change me."
Cameron nods in agreement but doesn't press for more information.
He knows better than anyone how complicated things can get when money enters the picture.
As we approach the beach town where Penelope and I used to spend our summers, I feel a knot form in my stomach.
The memories of those sun-kissed days with her are now tainted by her betrayal.
I accelerate harder, feeling the rush of adrenaline as we take a sharp turn along the coast.
"Shane, you know running away won't solve anything," Cameron says, his voice steady but concerned.
"I'm not running away," I reply, my eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I'm just trying to figure out who I am without her."
"Well, maybe it's time to stop focusing on Penelope and start thinking about what makes you happy," Cameron suggests, glancing at me with a knowing look.
After dropping Cameron back home, I drive to the local marina where I used to watch the boats as a kid, dreaming of owning one someday.
The salty breeze carries the sound of seagulls overhead as I park my car and walk towards the water's edge.
The gentle waves lap against the shore, calming my racing thoughts about Penelope and the inheritance.
As I wander along the marina, I notice a flyer posted on the bulletin board outside a small sailing school office.
"Learn to Sail" it reads, with a picture of a sailboat gliding across the ocean.
I've always been fascinated by sailing, but never had the chance to learn.
On a whim, I push open the door and step inside.
The office is small and cluttered, but there's a sense of warmth and camaraderie in the air.
A man with a bushy beard and weathered skin looks up from behind the desk.
"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice gruff but friendly.
"I saw your flyer," I reply, gesturing towards the bulletin board outside.
"I'm interested in learning how to sail."
The man nods, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.
"Well, you've come to the right place," he says, standing up and extending his hand.
"I'm Captain Rodriguez. We offer private lessons for beginners."
I shake his hand firmly, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of learning something new. "When can I start?" "How about tomorrow morning?" he replies, pulling out a calendar from behind his desk.
"We have an opening at 9 am."
I nod eagerly, pulling out my wallet to pay for the lessons.
As I fill out the registration forms, I catch a glimpse of myself in the window reflection - for the first time in months, I'm genuinely smiling.
Captain Rodriguez hands me a receipt and pats me on the back.
"Welcome aboard," he says with a grin.
I leave the sailing school office feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
For once, I'm doing something just for myself - something that has nothing to do with Penelope or her family's money.
As I walk back to my car, I feel a sense of purpose wash over me.
Maybe this is exactly what I need - a chance to rediscover who I am outside of our toxic relationship. The next morning, I wake up early feeling refreshed and ready for my first sailing lesson.
