Share
MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Revenge
Scenario:Kevin Kenmore, Jr. has led a hard broken life, a poor orphan, and his girlfriend is leaving him for a richer prospect. But his fortune is about to change dramatically. Kevin inherited immense wealth from his grandfather, shocking everyone. He was the heir to one of the two only multi-Quadrillonaire families in the world. He endures constant criticism and judgment from those around him. He vowed that those who had labeled him a failure would eventually bow at his feet. Now, 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, Kevin will get revenge on those who treated him badly. Will he succeed?
Create my version of this story
Kevin Kenmore, Jr.
determined, and vengeful. Kevin's life changes when he inherits a vast fortune from his grandfather, making him one of the richest men in the world. He vows to take revenge on those who wronged him, including his exgirlfriend and her new lover. Despite his newfound wealth, he remains humble and focused on rebuilding his life.
Jason Mitchell
wealthy, and dismissive. Jason represents the wealth and status that Lily craves, but he also embodies the superficiality of their relationship. His treatment of Kevin fuels Kevin's determination to prove himself worthy of respect.
Lily Carter
selfish, and shallow. Lily's decision to abandon Kevin for financial security reveals her true nature. Her actions serve as a catalyst for Kevin's transformation and drive his desire for revenge against her and her new lover.
"Hey babe, I'm sorry to say this but I can't be with you anymore."
Those words shattered my heart into a million pieces as I stared at the girl I loved with all my heart and soul.
"What do you mean, Lily? Did I do something that made you unhappy?"
I asked.
She sighed before she came closer to me and held my hands.
"Kevin, you're a wonderful guy and I love you so much. But we can't be together anymore."
"Why can't we be together anymore?"
I asked.
She bit her lower lip before she said, "You know I love you and I always will but I need a richer guy in my life. I'm sorry!"
She let go of my hands and walked away.
I was stunned as I stood there watching her leave.
I didn't know what to say or do as I stood there like a useless idiot.
My legs felt weak and I stumbled to the nearest bus stop bench.
I collapsed onto it and my hand went to the crumpled envelope in my jacket pocket.
The envelope was made of heavy cream paper, embossed with the Kenmore family crest.
The weight of generations of wealth and power was evident in the feel of the paper, and I ran my thumb over the broken wax seal.
I pulled out the letter and unfolded it carefully, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
The words blurred before my eyes as I read the formal language of the law firm.
It was official - I was now the sole heir to the Kenmore fortune.
All assets were to be transferred to me immediately, including cash reserves, property holdings, and investments.
The irony of it all crushed me - just yesterday, I'd been informed that my share of the family fortune had reached 100 quadrillion dollars. The number had left me breathless, even though I'd known for years that I was one of the richest men alive.
My family had always been known for their wealth and philanthropy, but never before had it seemed so tangible, so real.
As I sat on the bench, reading through the details of my newfound fortune, I couldn't help but think of Lily.
She had always been fascinated by money and power, but she'd never known what it felt like to be a part of it.
Now that she was gone, I realized how little she'd ever really known me.
I folded up the letter and tucked it back into my jacket pocket, then stood up and looked across the street at Lily's favorite coffee shop.
I crumpled the letter in my pocket and shoved it back into my jacket.
I watched as Lily's silhouette disappeared into the coffee shop where we'd first met, where we'd shared countless cups of coffee and laughed together.
I stood there for a moment, watching her through the window as she walked over to the table where Jason was sitting - my old table.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a text from Mark asking if I was okay.
I stared at the screen for a moment, wondering how to respond.
Instead of wallowing in my misery, I decided to take action.
I typed out a response, telling Mark to meet me at our favorite pizza place.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and turned away from the coffee shop, walking down the street with a newfound sense of purpose. As I walked, I pulled out my phone again and deleted Lily's contact information, along with all the photos we'd taken together.
It was time for me to move on and find someone who loved me for who I was, not just for my wealth.
I pushed through the glass door of the pizza parlor, and the familiar scent of oregano and melted cheese enveloped me.
Mark was already sitting in our corner booth, the same one where we'd celebrated when I'd gotten accepted into college two years ago.
The red vinyl seats were cracked and worn, and the tabletop was scratched from decades of use, but it felt more like home than any place Lily had ever dragged me to.
Mark had already ordered our usual - a large pepperoni with extra cheese.
He slid a cold beer across the table as I sat down, concern etched on his face.
I took a deep breath, clinked my bottle against his, and smiled.
I slid the crumpled inheritance letter across the pizza-stained table to Mark.
He took it and read it, his eyes widening as he got to the part about the Kenmore fortune.
I waited until he'd finished reading it, then I started talking between bites of pepperoni pizza.
I told him everything - Lily's cruel words at the bus stop, her immediate meetup with Jason, and how she'd left me for money right when I'd inherited billions.
Mark set his beer down on the table, shaking his head in disbelief at the numbers mentioned in the letter.
But his concern was for me, not my wealth.
That was why he'd been my best friend since we were kids - he was always there for me, no matter what. "We should order another pizza and talk this through," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern.
I nodded, knowing that's exactly what I needed.
As I leaned back in the booth, he folded the greasy napkin between his fingers.
The inheritance letter sat on the red checkered tablecloth, its golden crest catching the dim overhead light.
I pushed my half-eaten slice away, my appetite suddenly gone.
"What do you think I should do?"
I asked.
Mark took a long sip of his beer, his eyes fixed on me as he contemplated his answer.
The evening crowd filtered in around us, their chatter and clinking glasses providing a comfortable background noise.
Mark has always given me straight advice, even when I didn't want to hear it.
I spread the inheritance documents across our table, pushing aside the empty pizza box and the remnants of my meal.
Mark leaned in closer, his eyes scanning the detailed pages.
The initial letter had only hinted at the extent of my grandfather's wealth.
These pages listed mind-boggling assets - private islands dotting the Pacific, a fleet of mega yachts anchored worldwide, and properties ranging from Manhattan penthouses to French châteaux.
The numbers blurred together as I read them - 200 quadrillion dollars in total wealth.
My hands shook as I pulled out a sleek black credit card with gold trim.
The platinum K emblem caught the parlor's fluorescent light, reflecting it back at me like a beacon of power.
Mark let out a low whistle when he saw it, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"That's a Citibank Black card," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
"It's got unlimited spending power."
Mark leaned back, his expression a mix of awe and concern.
"Unlimited spending power, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
"But what about the unlimited responsibility that comes with it?"
I stared at his hand touching mine on the table, my heart pounding in my chest.
The inheritance papers scattered between our half-empty beer bottles as his fingers lingered.
The familiar pizza parlor suddenly felt different, charged with an unspoken tension.
When our eyes met, I saw something new in his gaze - hope, fear, and something more.
The evening crowd's chatter faded to background noise as I processed his words about exploring this new world together.
Before I could respond, Mark quickly withdrew his hand and looked away, his cheeks flushing red.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Alex's number, the screen lighting up in the dim parlor.
Mark gathered the inheritance papers from our table, his movements a little too deliberate.
I watched him, my mind racing with possibilities.
The phone rang twice before Alex picked up.
"Hey, man," he said, his voice distant but familiar.
"What's up?"
I took a deep breath, trying to condense the whirlwind of emotions into a coherent message.
"Alex, I need you to meet us at the pizza parlor," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
"I've got some news to share."
Twenty minutes later, Alex walked through the parlor's door, his mechanic's uniform still clinging to his body from work.
He spotted us in the corner booth and made his way over, his eyes scanning the room with a practiced ease.
As he slid into the booth beside Mark, I noticed the faint scent of gasoline on his clothes. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Mark handed him a stack of property listings from the inheritance documents.
Alex's eyes widened as he scanned them, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.
"Kevin, this is insane," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're rich."
I nodded slowly, my mind still reeling from the sudden shift in my reality.
"Yeah," I replied softly.
"It looks like Grandpa left me everything."
Alex leaned back in his seat, his gaze drifting around the parlor as if searching for answers in the dim lighting and pizza grease.
"Everything?" he repeated, his voice filled with incredulity.
Mark nodded solemnly beside me.
"He was one of only two multi-Quadrillonaire families in the world," he explained.
"Now Kevin is one of them."
The weight of those words hung in the air like a challenge waiting to be accepted.
I glanced at Alex and Mark, my heart pounding in my chest.
"What do you think we should do?"
I asked them both, seeking their input in this new chapter of my life. Alex leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine with determination.
"We should check it out," he said firmly.
"See what all this means."
Mark nodded beside me, his gaze filled with excitement and trepidation.
"Yeah," he agreed softly.
"It's time we explore this new world."
I waved down our waitress for the check as we huddled together in the booth, our minds racing with possibilities and uncertainty.
I pulled up a map on my phone, zooming in on the closest Kenmore property.
The screen displayed a sprawling mansion just outside the city limits, its manicured gardens and private helipad visible in the satellite view.
Alex leaned over my shoulder, whistling softly at the Olympic-sized pool.
Mark studied the security features, his eyes scanning the perimeter for any weaknesses.
When the waitress dropped off our check, I suggested meeting at 9 AM tomorrow to start our journey.
Both friends agreed, though Mark's eyes still held a hint of that earlier uncertainty.
I pulled up the mansion's address one more time, double-checking the details before sending the text to Mark and Alex.
"2847 Hillcrest Estate Road," I typed, adding a pin drop of the exact location.
The message showed as "delivered" on both their numbers, followed by a thumbs up from Mark and an excited "Can't wait!" from Alex.
As I glanced at Mark's response, I noticed his usual enthusiasm was muted.
My finger hovered over his contact, considering whether to address the tension that still lingered between us.
"Mark, is everything alright?" I asked, my voice low enough to keep our conversation private.
He hesitated, his eyes flicking between me and the table before finally meeting my gaze.
"It's just... this is a lot to take in," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, understanding the weight of the news.
"Let's step outside for a minute," I suggested, standing up from our booth and gesturing toward the door.
Mark followed me, his eyes never leaving mine as we walked.
The cool evening air enveloped us as we exited onto Monroe Street.
We walked in silence, passing by the closed shops and restaurants that lined the street.
Mark kept his hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense with an unspoken worry.
I searched for the right words to ease his concerns, but they eluded me.
We turned the corner onto 3rd Street, passing by the spot where we used to catch the school bus together before it dropped us off at our homes.
A few more blocks brought us to the old playground where we first met in third grade.
The swings creaked in the breeze as we approached, their rusty chains swaying like a ghostly reminder of our past.
When I finally turned to face Mark, he met my gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of worry and something deeper.
We stopped under the dim streetlights, the playground's faded equipment looming behind us.
Mark leaned against the weathered fence, his back to the empty swings that creaked in the wind.
He reached into his jacket, pulling out a worn envelope that seemed to have been there for years.
"Found this in Dad's desk when I was cleaning last week," he said, his hands trembling slightly as he held it out to me.
The paper was decades old, yellowed at the edges with a golden crest in the corner.
I recognized it instantly as the same seal from the Kenmore family letter, the symbol of my newly discovered heritage.
My heart pounded in my chest as Mark unfolded it carefully.
The playground's empty swings creaked behind us, their rusty chains echoing off the surrounding buildings.
"I didn't know how to tell you," Mark confessed, his voice barely audible over the wind.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" I asked, my mind racing with questions.
"I was afraid it would change everything between us," he replied, his eyes searching mine for understanding.
"I see," I said, taking a deep breath.
As we stood there, the weight of the revelation hung in the air, the creaking swings behind us a haunting reminder of the secrets we had kept hidden.
Mark and I walked back to his beat-up Honda Civic, passing under the streetlights that cast long shadows across the deserted parking lot.
We didn't speak much during our walk, both lost in our own thoughts as we tried to process everything that had happened.
As we reached his car, he turned to me, his eyes filled with uncertainty.
"Meet you at Thompson Park tomorrow?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of hope and trepidation.
I nodded, feeling a sense of determination rise within me.
"Ten AM. By our childhood oak tree," I replied, my voice firm and resolute.
Mark nodded, his fingers drumming nervously on the door of his car.
He opened it and stepped inside, but before he closed the door, I grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eye.
"No envelope can change what we've been through," I said, my voice filled with conviction.
Mark gave a weak smile and started the engine.
"Thanks," he said, his voice barely audible over the rumble of the car.
As he drove away, I stood there, watching the taillights fade into the distance.
The night was silent, save for the distant hum of traffic and the whisper of leaves in the wind.
I gripped the envelope tightly in my hand, feeling the weight of its contents like a heavy burden on my shoulders.
The streetlights cast long shadows across the deserted parking lot, and I couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.
With a deep breath, I turned and began the familiar walk back to my small apartment, the envelope clutched tightly in my hand like a lifeline to an uncertain future.
As I walked down Monroe Street toward my apartment, the streetlights cast long shadows across the cracked sidewalk where Mark and I used to play hopscotch as kids.
Each step felt heavier than the last, my mind racing with questions about what this second Kenmore envelope could mean.
When I reached the rusty gate of my apartment complex, I paused to trace the golden crest on the envelope with my finger.
I continued on, the envelope clutched tightly in my hand, and entered the dimly lit hallway of my apartment building.
The smell of stale air and worn carpet filled my nostrils as I walked down the familiar corridor.
I reached my door and inserted the key, feeling a sense of relief wash over me as I stepped inside.
The worn couch in my living room seemed to sag under the weight of my thoughts as I sat down, the envelope still clutched tightly in my hand.
I took a deep breath and carefully broke the wax seal, revealing another official letter from the Kenmore family.
The words blurred together on the page as I read through it, my hands shaking slightly with anticipation.
According to the letter, my great-uncle Thomas Kenmore had left me an additional fortune of 150 quadrillion dollars, separate from what I had inherited from my grandfather.
The letter explained that Thomas wanted to ensure his wealth went to someone who understood struggle and hardship.
I folded the letter and placed it on the table, knowing that tomorrow everything would change.
I heard a knock on the door and stood up to answer it, expecting it to be Mark.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Mark standing there, still in the clothes he had worn earlier.
The flickering fluorescent lights in the hallway cast eerie shadows on his face as our eyes met.
His expression shifted from uncertainty to something softer when he spotted the open letter on my coffee table.
Without saying a word, I stepped aside to let him in.
Mark hesitated at the threshold, his hand gripping the doorframe tightly before he finally entered.
I closed the door behind him, and we stood frozen in the dimly lit apartment, the only sound coming from the humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
Mark walked over to my coffee table and stood near it, his eyes darting between me and the letter.
He fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket, his movements betraying his nervousness.
I watched him, my heart pounding in my chest.
The tension between us was palpable, and I could feel the weight of years of unspoken feelings hanging in the air.
Finally, Mark's gaze met mine, and I saw a mix of emotions reflected back at me.
His shoulders relaxed slightly as he took a step closer to me.
His hand reached out tentatively, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through me when our fingers intertwined.
Without thinking, I tightened my grip on his hand, and he did the same.
The worn cushions of my secondhand couch seemed to sag even more as I sank into it, Mark's leg brushing against mine.
The golden crests on the inheritance letters glowed softly in the dim light from my single lamp.
Mark's hand still held mine tightly, his other hand fidgeting with a loose thread on his jeans.
The scent of his leather jacket filled the space between us, mingling with the faint smell of the apartment.
I waited for him to speak, my throat tightening as I watched his chest rise and fall with each deep breath.
Mark finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You know this changes everything, right?"
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over us like a heavy blanket.
I shifted closer to him on the worn couch, our shoulders pressing together as the inheritance letters caught the faint light from my kitchen.
The familiar scent of his leather jacket mingled with the smell of pizza and coffee in the air, filling the space between us.
My hand trembled slightly in his grip, and the ancient radiator in the corner clanked loudly, breaking the silence.
Mark's thumb began to trace circles on my palm, sending electricity through me.
The weight of our childhood friendship and these new feelings pressed down on us, making it hard to breathe.
I leaned in closer to him, my voice barely above a whisper.
"What does this mean for us?"
Mark leaned back against the worn couch cushions, his eyes locked on mine.
He held my hand tightly in his, his thumb still tracing patterns on my palm.
The golden crests on the inheritance letters seemed to glow in the dim light from my desk lamp, illuminating the path ahead.
Mark's voice was filled with determination and a hint of longing as he spoke.
"It means we're in this together, Kev. I'm here for you, no matter what."
With those words, Mark shifted closer, his leather jacket brushing against my arm.
The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of pizza and coffee in the air, reminding me of countless nights spent together.
As he turned to face me, I saw something in his eyes that I had never noticed before—a deep longing mixed with a steely determination.
I reached for the letters on the coffee table, my fingers brushing against the golden Kenmore crests.
Mark's hand remained firmly in mine as I gathered them, his warmth and strength anchoring me.
The letters felt heavier now, filled with a newfound fortune and responsibility that stretched out before us like an endless road.
Our shoulders pressed together on the worn couch as I stacked the papers neatly, the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room.
Mark squeezed my hand reassuringly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The weight of our shared secret hung in the air, a silent promise to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
With a deep breath, I slipped the letters into their envelopes, ready to face tomorrow's revelations at Thompson Park.
A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment, freezing me in place.
Mark's hand remained linked with mine, a lifeline in the sudden uncertainty.
I rose from the couch, my heart pounding in my chest, and made my way to the door.
Through the peephole, I saw a man dressed in an expensive suit, his leather briefcase adorned with the Kenmore crest.
Mark released my hand as I opened the door, revealing a tall figure with a stern expression.
The lawyer's eyes scanned the small apartment before settling on me.
He cleared his throat, his voice crisp and authoritative.
"Mr. Kenmore, I presume?"
I nodded, still feeling a mix of shock and disbelief.
The lawyer stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the pizza boxes and scattered papers.
He paused by my desk, pulling out another envelope from his briefcase.
His voice echoed through the room as he spoke.
"Your great-aunt Elizabeth has left you her tech empire, valued at 80 quadrillion."
The weight of his words hung in the air as he handed me the documents.
Mark's shoulder pressed against mine, offering support in this whirlwind of events.
The lawyer's eyes met mine, and with a nod, he added, "And she left you one final instruction: find the truth."
Mark and I sat at my kitchen counter, surrounded by the papers from Aunt Elizabeth's tech empire.
The lawyer's briefcase lay open, revealing folders labeled "Quantum Computing Division" and "AI Research Labs."
My fingers traced the familiar Kenmore crest on each document while Mark scanned through the company profiles.
The tech empire spanned five continents, boasting revolutionary patents worth billions.
As I delved deeper into the documents, I discovered a handwritten note from Aunt Elizabeth tucked away in the corner of the folder.
It mentioned "Project Phoenix" and suspicious activity among certain board members.
Mark pointed to similar references in the financial reports, his brow furrowed in concentration.
I spread the documents across the kitchen counter, my hand brushing against Mark's as we huddled over the mysterious "Project Phoenix."
The apartment felt smaller, more intimate, with Mark's shoulder pressed against mine.
The scent of his cologne mingled with the faint smell of pizza boxes, creating a heady mix of familiarity and intrigue.
As we traced connections between board meetings and unexplained fund transfers, the apartment grew dimmer, the evening light fading beyond the windows.
Mark's fingers brushed against mine when he reached for another document, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
His eyes locked onto mine, filled with determination and curiosity.
"Let's investigate this together," he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear.
The intensity in his gaze mirrored my own resolve to uncover the truth.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.
Together, we would unravel the secrets of Aunt Elizabeth's tech empire and uncover the truth behind "Project Phoenix."
The investigation led us to Aunt Elizabeth's office, located in the prestigious Kenmore Tower downtown.
Mark leaned in close as I pulled up the building's security details on my phone, his shoulder pressing warmly against mine.
The office required special keycard access, but as the new owner, I could get us in tonight.
Mark suggested we be careful - someone might be watching the building.
I grabbed my jacket and the briefcase of documents while Mark checked his phone's battery.
We agreed to take his Honda Civic instead of my noisy motorcycle.
I gripped the briefcase tightly as Mark navigated the car through downtown traffic.
The skyscraper's glass exterior reflected the setting sun, making it appear as if the building were on fire.
Mark parked in a shadowy corner of the underground garage, away from security cameras.
His hand brushed against mine when he helped me conceal the briefcase under my jacket.
We took the service elevator to avoid the lobby guards, and I used the worn maintenance key card I found in Aunt Elizabeth's papers.
The card trembled in my sweating palm as I swiped it through the reader.
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet ding, revealing the dimly lit corridor leading to Aunt Elizabeth's office.
Mark's hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
The hallway was empty, the only sound coming from the hum of fluorescent lights.
We moved cautiously towards the office, my heart pounding in my chest.
I gripped Mark's arm as his phone screen illuminated the dark hallway.
A text message flashed on the screen, from an unknown number.
"Project Phoenix data. Meet me at midnight."
I leaned in closer to examine the message, my breath mingling with Mark's.
He opened the attached photo, revealing a classified document header matching the ones in my briefcase.
My heart raced as I realized someone knew we were here.
Through the glass walls of Aunt Elizabeth's office, I saw a security guard's flashlight beam sweeping across the floor below.
Mark quickly dimmed his phone and pulled me into an alcove, his hand still holding mine.
We stood in silence, knowing that the next move could change everything.