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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
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 to use it for revenge and selfempowerment.
Penelope
and dismissive. Penelope initially dated Shane because of his potential wealth, discarding him as soon as she found someone richer. Her breakup letter was harsh, labeling Shane as "unfulfilling" and "poor." Despite her claims of love, she chose wealth over Shane, highlighting her materialistic nature and lack of genuine emotional connection.
Unnamed Adoptive Parents
and selfcentered. The parents adopted Shane to gain a son, discarding their previous life choices by treating him poorly once they faced financial challenges. Their decision to abandon him reveals their true nature as they prioritize their own comfort over Shane’s wellbeing, displaying heartless indifference and lack of empathy.
Shane Weber here.
My life used to suck, big time.
I mean, I was an orphan, living in foster care.
I had no money and I didn't think my life would ever get any better.
But I was wrong.
So very wrong.
I had just turned 18 when my life changed, forever.
I found out that I wasn't just a poor nobody, a person destined for failure; I was actually the heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the world.
It turned out that my real grandfather was one of the richest men in the world.
He left behind an inheritance worth over ten billion dollars.
And I wasn't the only one who knew about it.
My girlfriend, Penelope, she had also been told about it.
She was dating me because of it, but without realizing that I actually knew about it too.
So when she left me for another guy, she wrote me a long breakup letter telling me how unfulfilling our sex had been and how poor she was.
Little did she know that I had just come into my inheritance.
It was worth over two billion dollars.
I sit in the mahogany-lined office of Harrison & Partners Investment Firm, surrounded by the soft hum of computers and the distant chatter of financial analysts.
The senior advisor, Mr. Chen, a middle-aged man with a well-groomed beard and glasses, sits across from me, his hands clasped together as he begins to explain the various portfolio options available for my investment.
"We have a range of conservative investment strategies that have proven successful for our clients," he says, his voice smooth and confident.
"However, if you're looking for something more aggressive—"
I interrupt him before he can continue.
"Actually, I've already done my research. I'd like to allocate 30% of my funds into emerging tech startups, 40% into sustainable energy investments, and 30% into global real estate."
Mr. Chen's eyebrows raise slightly, clearly impressed by my knowledge.
"You've certainly done your homework," he says.
"Those are all viable options, but perhaps we could discuss a safer approach—"
I cut him off again.
"I appreciate your input, Mr. Chen, but I'm not here for advice. I'm here to execute my plan."
He nods understandingly and begins to pull out the necessary documents for me to sign.
As I review the paperwork, I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that my strategic investments will likely triple my wealth within the next five years. Once I've signed everything, I stand up and straighten my new suit.
It's one of many I've purchased recently, part of my effort to upgrade my image and blend in with the wealthy elite.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Chen," I say as I head towards the door.
"The pleasure is all mine," he replies with a smile.
"If you have any further questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to reach out."
I push through the revolving doors and pause for a moment on the granite steps outside.
The crisp autumn wind rustles my designer suit jacket, a stark contrast to the threadbare hoodie I was wearing just last month.
Below me, my new driver waits beside the black Mercedes, but I'm not ready to descend yet.
I take a deep breath, savoring the moment as business people hurry past on the sidewalk.
My phone buzzes in my pocket with another message from Penelope, trying to reconnect now that news of my inheritance has spread.
I delete it without reading it and straighten my Italian silk tie.
Back in my penthouse office, I spread the inheritance documents across my mahogany desk, still processing the numbers.
Three hundred and fifty googol dollars.
The figure seems impossible, even after seeing it dozens of times.
I methodically review each page, noting the extensive list of assets: private islands dotting the Pacific, a fleet of mega yachts anchored in Monaco, penthouses in every major city.
My fingers trace over the embossed Citibank card, its platinum W gleaming under the desk lamp.
The weight of it feels significant in my hand.
I pour myself a glass of 50-year-old Macallan scotch at the penthouse bar and dial Jake's number first.
The phone rings three times before he picks up, his voice cautious since I haven't called in weeks.
"Hey, man," he says.
"Everything okay?"
I take a sip of the scotch, savoring the smoky flavor before answering.
"Everything's better than okay," I reply, my voice filled with excitement.
"I just left the investment firm. The inheritance is all mine."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I wonder if I've lost the connection.
"Jake? You there?"
"Yeah, man," he finally responds, his voice filled with disbelief.
"I'm here. I just...I don't know what to say."
"There's nothing to say," I tell him.
"You were right. My father did leave me everything. And now that it's official, I'm making some changes."
"What kind of changes?" he asks cautiously.
"For starters, I'm investing in some new ventures. And then there's this island..."
I can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he tries to process everything I'm telling him.
"An island?"
"Yeah," I reply with a chuckle.
"One of many, actually. But this one...it's special."
"So what are you going to do with it?"
I take another sip of my scotch before answering.
"I'm not sure yet," I admit.
"But I know it's going to be something amazing." When I call Alex next, he answers on the first ring, already sensing that something big is happening.
"Dude, what's up?" he asks excitedly.
"I just got off the phone with Jake. He told me everything."
I smile as I hear the genuine enthusiasm in his voice.
"Yep," I say with a chuckle.
"It's all true."
"This is amazing!" he exclaims.
"We should celebrate! Let's get together tonight and party like rockstars!"
I laugh at his eagerness.
"Actually," I say with a grin.
"I have a better idea."
"What is it?"
"We're taking my new private jet to my new island tomorrow morning," I tell him, barely able to contain my excitement.
"And we're going to party like kings."
I sit in my penthouse's study, a stack of old family photos spread out on the polished mahogany desk in front of me.
The discovery was unexpected, tucked away in a forgotten corner of my grandfather's archive.
As I sift through them, one particular image catches my eye.
Two identical boys, no more than five years old, stand side by side with my grandfather.
Their smiles mirror each other, and there's an unmistakable resemblance to the man who once held the reins of the W family empire.
A small inscription on the back reads "Landon and Lance, 1995."
I've never heard of them before.
The realization sends a shiver down my spine as I delve deeper into the stack, searching for any mention of these mysterious twins.
It isn't long before I find a file labeled "Adoption Papers," followed by another titled "Trust Fund Documents."
A series of letters bound with a faded ribbon catches my attention.
As I untie the ribbon and begin to read, my hands start to shake.
They're letters from my grandfather, addressed to Landon and Lance.
The contents speak of love and legacy, of a future filled with promise.
But as I read on, it becomes clear that there's more to their story than meets the eye. I immediately call Mr. Chen, demanding he investigate everything about these twins who could potentially threaten my inheritance.
"I'm here, Mr. W," Mr. Chen's voice comes through the speakerphone.
"The twins were legally removed from your grandfather's will in 1998."
He forwards me the documentation, and I open it on my laptop.
It appears that their parents, distant relatives of my grandfather, died in a boating accident.
The twins were then adopted by a family in Europe, signing away any inheritance rights they may have had.
"They've been living abroad ever since," Mr. Chen continues, his voice steady.
"Your grandfather kept in touch with them but never involved them in the family business."
I lean back in my leather chair, tapping my fingers against the desk as I process this information.
"Do you want me to locate them?" he asks after a moment of silence.
"No," I reply firmly.
I drive my Mercedes through the iron gates of my grandfather's sprawling estate, the gravel crunching beneath the tires.
The Georgian mansion looms ahead, its weathered brick facade a testament to generations of family history.
I park in the circular driveway and step out, taking in the manicured lawns and vibrant gardens that have been meticulously maintained since my grandfather's passing.
Inside, the air is thick with nostalgia as I make my way through the grand foyer, adorned with family portraits and antique furnishings.
Everything remains untouched since my grandfather's death, a reminder of his legacy and the life he built.
My destination is his study, tucked away in a quiet corner of the estate.
I enter the room, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and rows of leather-bound albums.
The scent of aged paper fills the air as I begin my search. I run my fingers along the spines of old photo albums, pulling out those dated 1995-1998.
Sitting at my grandfather's massive mahogany desk, I open each album carefully, scanning the pages for any mention of Landon and Lance.
As I search, I notice a small key hidden within a stack of papers.
It looks like it hasn't been used in years.
I examine it closely, wondering what it might unlock.
My eyes fall on a locked cabinet in the corner of the room.
Curiosity piqued, I approach it and insert the key into the rusty lock.
With a satisfying click, the cabinet door creaks open, revealing a collection of documents and files.
Inside the cabinet, I pull out stacks of yellowed papers and dusty folders, methodically sorting through each one.
As I delve deeper, a cream-colored envelope catches my eye.
My name is written in elegant cursive on the front - my grandfather's unmistakable handwriting.
I take the envelope in my hands, feeling its weight and thickness.
The study falls silent, except for the creaking of my grandfather's leather chair as I lean back.
I take a deep breath and slide my finger under the envelope's flap, breaking the seal.
Inside, I find a letter addressed to me, dated just weeks before my grandfather's passing.
"Dear Alex," it begins, "if you're reading this, it means you've discovered the truth about Landon and Lance."
My heart races as I continue reading, "They are your brothers, and it's time you know why they were sent away."
I methodically empty the cabinet drawer by drawer, placing each document on my grandfather's mahogany desk.
As I reach the bottom drawer, my hand brushes against something unusual.
It feels like a false panel, cleverly hidden from view.
Curiosity piqued, I press down on it, and the panel slides open, revealing a stack of yellowed envelopes tied together with twine.
I carefully untie the bundle, noticing that each envelope is dated, spanning from 1995 to 1998.
My hands tremble as I hold them, sensing the significance they might hold.
I open the first envelope and pull out the letter inside.
The words leap off the page, sending a shiver down my spine.
"It's been years since the terrible accident at our summer estate," it reads.
"The twins were involved in a tragic incident with the groundskeeper's daughter. It was a cover-up, Alex. A secret kept from everyone."
Before I can read further, a security alarm blares through the mansion, jolting me back to reality.
Panic sets in as I quickly gather the letters and shove them into my pocket.
Footsteps echo through the hallway, growing louder with each passing moment.
I freeze, clutching the incriminating letters about my brothers.
Through the study doorway steps Marcus Chen, my childhood friend from the orphanage who now works as a security consultant.
His eyes dart from the scattered papers to my pale face.
Without a word, he motions for me to follow him.
We hurry through the mansion's back corridors, past security cameras he's already disabled.
In his car, I show him the letters while he drives us to his private office downtown.