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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
determined, and vengeful. After his girlfriend leaves him for a richer man, he discovers he is the sole heir to his grandfather's vast fortune. He vows to prove himself and exact revenge on those who wronged him. Despite facing criticism and judgment, he remains steadfast in his pursuit of wealth and power.
Jason Mitchell
dismissive, and condescending. His relationship with Lily highlights his lack of empathy towards Shane's struggles and reinforces the societal pressure on individuals to achieve financial success.
Lily Carter
selfish, and shallow. Her decision to abandon Shane reveals her superficial nature as she prioritizes material comfort over their relationship. Her actions serve as a catalyst for Shane's transformation from poverty to wealth.
"Shane, I'm sorry. I can't be with someone as poor as you anymore."
Those were the words that woke me up from my slumber.
I stared at my girlfriend, who was also my best friend, standing in front of me with tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong with you?"
I asked.
"I can't take it anymore, Shane. We have been together for three years, and you have not been able to take us out of this poverty. I don't think we have a future together," she said.
"I know things are tough, but we will get out of this soon. I promise you that," I said, trying to calm her down.
However, she just smiled and said, "I don't think so. I have found someone else."
"What! You can't just dump me like this! What have I even done to you?"
I yelled.
"I'm sorry, Shane. I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that I want a better life for myself, and I don't think you can give it to me."
With those words, she turned around and left my life forever.
I was devastated.
I had never felt such pain before in my life.
I mean, who would not be devastated by the person he or she loved the most?
Thinking of getting revenge on her for what she did to me gave me the strength to move on with my life.
I vowed that one day, I would become a googolaire and make her bow at my feet.
The thought of revenge on Lily made me drag myself to work at the hospital.
I mechanically mopped the floor as my mind replayed the words that Lily said to me over and over again.
At lunchtime, I decided to go to my mail cubby to check if I had any mail.
My cubby was always empty except for junk mail.
However, today, I was surprised to see a thick cream envelope with gold trim addressed to me.
The return address was Johnson & Associates Legal Services.
I decided to open it in the break room, and when I did, my eyes widened in surprise.
The first line read: "Dear Mr. Weber, We regret to inform you of the passing of your grandfather, Theodore Weber..."
My heart stopped beating for a second as I slumped into a chair and read about a man I never knew existed and how he had left everything he had to me as his only heir.
My hands were trembling as I pulled out my phone and dialed the number on the letterhead.
Each ring made my heart beat faster and faster.
Finally, a crisp female voice picked up.
"Hello, Johnson & Associates. Who may I speak with, please?"
I stuttered, "H-hi. My name is Shane Weber, and I received a letter from your office."
"Oh, Mr. Weber, thank you for calling. May I please transfer you to Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes, thank you," I replied and waited for him to get on the line.
I ducked into a quiet supply closet to wait.
The hospital was always bustling with people rushing down the corridors.
The hold music cut off, and a deep authoritative voice spoke through the phone.
"Mr. Weber, this is Mr. Johnson. I trust you received our letter?"
"Yes, sir."
"I see. Well, I would like to discuss some matters with you in person. Would you be available to come to our office tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.?"
"Uh... Yeah... Sure."
"Good. We will see you then."
He hung up before I could say another word.
I sat down on the floor and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down.
I stared at the letter in my hand and wondered if it was real.
I decided to call the law firm back and ask them if this was real or some kind of joke.
I dialed their number again and asked for Mr. Johnson.
The same female voice answered as before and transferred me to him immediately. "Hello, Mr. Weber," he said.
"Hi... Uh... I'm sorry to call back again so soon, but... Is this letter real? Did my grandfather really pass away and leave everything he had to me?"
He paused for a second before answering, "Yes, Mr. Weber, it is real."
"Thank you," I said as tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of my grandfather dying without me ever knowing him.
He must have been a very lonely man.
"Sir... What was his name again?"
"His name was Theodore Weber, Mr. Weber," Mr. Johnson replied gently.
"Did he ever mention me? I mean, why would he leave everything to someone he never met?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of confusion and hope.
"Mr. Weber, your grandfather spoke of you often; he believed you were the only one who could carry on his legacy," Mr. Johnson revealed, his tone sincere and reassuring.
"Really? He... He did?"
I asked, a wave of emotions washing over me.
"Yes, Mr. Weber. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. We'll see you tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Good day."
"Thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Goodbye," he said, ending the call.
I sat in the supply closet for a few more minutes to collect my thoughts.
After work, I went to my apartment and cleaned out my closet.
The only nice clothes I owned were a wrinkled dress shirt and a pair of faded slacks that had belonged to one of my roommates.
I figured it was better than showing up in my janitor uniform.
The next morning, I arrived at Johnson & Associates an hour before the meeting was scheduled to happen.
The security guard in the lobby looked at me suspiciously as I entered the gleaming lobby with marble floors and high ceilings.
I decided to take a seat in one of the plush chairs and wait.
While waiting, I noticed a large frame on the wall with a newspaper article about Theodore Weber and his business empire.
It included a photo of an elderly man with eyes that looked familiar - eyes just like mine. At 8:55 a.m., a young woman walked out of the elevators dressed in a professional suit with her hair tied back in a tight ponytail.
She approached me with a smile on her face and asked, "Mr. Weber? Can I get you some coffee or water while you wait?"
"No, thank you," I replied politely.
"Okay... Well, if you change your mind, let me know."
She smiled again and started walking away but stopped suddenly and did a double take back at me.
"Oh... Shane Weber?" she asked as if she wasn't sure it was really me.
"Yes..."
I replied slowly, wondering what had happened to make her react that way.
"Great... Well... I'm Samantha... Samantha Jones..."
She said as she held out her hand for me to shake it.
"Nice to meet you," I said as we shook hands firmly.
"It's nice to meet you too... Mr. Weber."
She smiled brightly and walked away quickly, disappearing into one of the offices.
I was left alone for a moment, trying to process everything when Mr. Johnson appeared, extending his hand warmly.
"Mr. Weber, please come in," he said, gesturing towards his office.
As I followed him inside, he added, "There's something you should know about your grandfather's legacy that might surprise you."
Mr. Johnson's office was spacious, with a large mahogany desk in the center and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city.
I took a seat across from him, and he opened a thick leather portfolio, sliding out several documents.
The first one he showed me had property listings: private islands in the Caribbean, Mediterranean mega yachts, and penthouses in major cities around the world.
My hands began to shake as I flipped through the photos of massive estates with endless rooms, swimming pools, and perfectly manicured lawns.
I looked up at him and asked, "What is the total worth?"
He pulled out a black metallic card and placed it before me.
"This Citibank card has no limit," he explained, pointing to the platinum W emblem on the card.
"Your grandfather's liquid assets alone exceed the GDP of most nations."
I stared at the card, realizing that my life had just irrevocably changed.
Mr. Johnson slid another document across the desk, and I leaned back in my leather chair, stunned.
It was a detailed financial statement, and my eyes locked onto the number: 200 googol dollars.
The figure was so massive that my brain struggled to comprehend it.
Mr. Johnson continued, "Your grandfather's wealth came from his pioneering work in quantum computing and intergalactic mining operations."
My hands were still shaking as I touched the paper, remembering Lily's cruel words about my poverty.
I signed the acceptance forms with trembling fingers, each signature transferring astronomical sums into my control.
After signing the last document, I leaned back in the plush leather chair and asked Mr. Johnson, "So, how do I manage all of this?"
Mr. Johnson opened a sleek silver laptop, pulling up spreadsheets and investment portfolios.
He began explaining the basics of wealth management, but my mind was still reeling from the sheer magnitude of my newfound fortune.
I glanced at my phone, noticing a flood of messages - news of my inheritance was already spreading like wildfire.
I silenced the notifications and refocused on Mr. Johnson's words.
He outlined the vast reach of the Weber empire, including intergalactic mining operations and quantum computing ventures that had reshaped industries worldwide.
Mr. Johnson suggested that we start with a tour of the main corporate headquarters tomorrow, where his grandfather's executive assistant would show me the inner workings of the empire that had generated this unfathomable fortune.
After finalizing the paperwork, Mr. Johnson led me through a private elevator to the building's underground parking garage.
A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom awaited, complete with a uniformed chauffeur holding the door open for us.
I slid into the plush leather interior, and Mr. Johnson handed me a secure tablet containing classified files on grandfather's business operations.
As we drove through the city, I began scrolling through detailed reports on quantum computing facilities and mining operations on distant planets.
The car stopped at a heavily guarded gate, and Mr. Johnson explained that we had arrived at Weber Industries' main complex.
I stepped out of the car, my borrowed dress shoes clicking against the polished marble floors.
We walked through towering glass doors, passing security guards who straightened to attention as we passed.
Their eyes widened when Mr. Johnson introduced me as the new owner of Weber Industries.
The thirty-story atrium stretched above us, filled with holographic displays of quantum computing models and asteroid mining operations.
Mr. Johnson guided me toward a private elevator, explaining that my grandfather's office occupied the top floor.
As we ascended, my stomach tightened - not from the elevation, but from knowing that I was about to face the employees who would soon be under my control.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped into a world that was now mine to command.
We walked down a corridor lined with gleaming wood and polished marble, passing by portraits of my grandfather's accomplishments.
Mr. Johnson pushed open the double doors to grandfather's office, revealing a room that was both imposing and intimate.
A group of senior executives stood waiting, their expressions ranging from skepticism to outright disdain.
Mr. Johnson stepped forward, his voice resonant as he introduced me to the assembled crowd.
"Colleagues, it is my pleasure to introduce the new owner and CEO of Weber Industries: Shane Weber."
Their eyes widened as I stepped into the room, my borrowed clothes a stark contrast to their tailored suits.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead.
With a steady voice, I addressed them.
"Good morning. As your new CEO, I pledge to uphold my grandfather's vision for this company while forging my own path forward. I look forward to working with each of you."
Some nodded respectfully, while others exchanged uncertain glances.
I continued, "Over the coming weeks, I will be meeting with each department head to discuss our shared goals and objectives. I am confident that together, we can propel Weber Industries toward even greater heights."
With those words, I asserted my position as their leader and turned to leave.
The weight of responsibility settled heavily upon my shoulders as I walked out of the office, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As we exited the building's main entrance, Mr. Johnson led me back toward the waiting Rolls-Royce Phantom.
He handed me a sleek silver smartphone and explained that it contained encrypted contact information for key executives and allies within Weber Industries.
The car door swung open, and I slid into the plush leather interior once more.
Mr. Johnson stood outside, his expression somber yet determined.
"Remember," he said firmly, "the world is watching you now. Your every move will be scrutinized and judged. But know that you have the full support of your grandfather's legacy."
I nodded resolutely, feeling a surge of resolve course through my veins.
With a quiet murmur of assent, Mr. Johnson closed the door behind me and stepped back as the car drove away.
The sleek black sedan glided smoothly through city streets, its advanced autonomous system expertly navigating the bustling traffic.
I sat in silence, lost in thought as the cityscape blurred by outside my tinted windows.
The vast fortune now at my fingertips weighed heavily upon my conscience - but I was determined to use this power responsibly.
As the car turned onto a quieter street, my phone buzzed with an incoming call.
I hesitated before answering, recognizing the number as belonging to my estranged sister, Emily.
"Shane," her voice crackled with urgency, "we need to talk about what really happened to Grandpa."
I sat alone in the Rolls-Royce's expansive leather backseat, the encrypted smartphone pressed to my ear as Emily's voice crackled through.
She spoke in hushed tones, as if she feared being overheard.
"I've been working at St. Mary's Hospital for the past year," she explained.
"As a nurse, I've had access to patient records. Grandpa was admitted there before he passed away."
My grip tightened on the phone as her words hung in the air.
"What did you find?"
I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Emily's voice remained steady, despite the obvious tension.
"His medical records show that he died from natural causes. Heart failure, to be exact. But there's more."
She paused, and I sensed her hesitation before continuing.
"The toxicology report indicated traces of an unknown compound in his system."
My mind raced with implications.
"Unknown compound?"
I repeated, my voice laced with skepticism.
"That's right," Emily confirmed.
"It wasn't a known medication or anything in his medical history. But here's the thing - someone deleted all digital records of his admission within twenty-four hours of his death."
A chill ran down my spine as Emily continued, her voice filled with determination.
"But I'd already saved copies of those files. I've sent them to you."
The phone beeped with an incoming message, signaling the arrival of the sensitive documents.
I opened the attachment, and a series of medical records unfolded on the screen. Each page revealed disturbing details about my grandfather's final hours: irregular heart rhythms, unexplained pain, and finally, a fatal cardiac event attributed to an unknown cause.
The toxicology report revealed traces of an unidentified compound in his system, which had contributed to his demise.
A surge of anger coursed through my veins as I realized that someone had deliberately concealed the truth about grandfather's death.
But who?
And why?
The encrypted smartphone vibrated once more as Emily's voice crackled through again.
"Shane," she said urgently, "be careful with this information. Whoever did this will stop at nothing to keep it hidden."
I nodded silently, knowing that I had to tread carefully in uncovering the truth behind grandfather's murder.
I ended the call, resolved to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.