The Glorious Life Of Mr. Smith

Mighty Super-rich Heir

Ever since I was a child, I had always been poor. Every time I came home from school, I would be met with the sight of my father busying himself in the kitchen. From my earliest recollection, I would always remember my father wearing his old factory uniforms in the house. His hair was snow-white and he had very dark skin. He would usually smoke cheap cigarettes and the car he drove around was a Santana which was a real wreck. Despite all our hardships, my father threw himself into his work for 18 years and raised me to his best abilities, and I ended up not disappointing him as I managed to get into a very good university. Because I came from poverty, I had to work a part-time job in order to pay the high tuition fees. I knew my classmates must’ve looked down on me because I was so poor, but I did my best to not let that bother me. On the day of my 18th birthday, my father announced that he was going to give me a birthday present and that he would bring it to me in person. That day I saw my father in a new light. My father’s coarse snow-white head had turned shiny black. He had replaced his tattered clothes with expensive Givenchy suits, and he even wore a Patek Philippe watch around his wrist. The old Santana was now a limited edition Rolls Royce. I stared at my father with bewildered eyes and asked him in an incredulous voice, “Dad, is our family really the richest in the world right now?” My father took out a Mayan Sicars cigar worth $500,000, lit it, and blew out a smoke ring. “Son, I know you’ve suffered a lot for the past 18 years, and I feel ashamed that I couldn’t have provided more for you. I want you to take this ten million as pocket money first. You can ask me for more later if it’s not enough!”

Mighty Garry Smith's Love Story

Ever since I was a child, I had always been poor. Every time I came home from school, I would be met with the sight of my father busying himself in the kitchen. From my earliest recollection, I would always remember my father wearing his old factory uniforms in the house. His hair was snow-white and he had very dark skin. He would usually smoke cheap cigarettes and the car he drove around was a Santana which was a real wreck. Despite all our hardships, my father threw himself into his work for 18 years and raised me to his best abilities, and I ended up not disappointing him as I managed to get into a very good university. Because I came from poverty, I had to work a part-time job in order to pay the high tuition fees. I knew my classmates must’ve looked down on me because I was so poor, but I did my best to not let that bother me. On the day of my 18th birthday, my father announced that he was going to give me a birthday present and that he would bring it to me in person. That day I saw my father in a new light. My father’s coarse snow-white head had turned shiny black. He had replaced his tattered clothes with expensive Givenchy suits, and he even wore a Patek Philippe watch around his wrist. The old Santana was now a limited edition Rolls Royce. I stared at my father with bewildered eyes and asked him in an incredulous voice, “Dad, is our family really the richest in the world right now?” My father took out a Mayan Sicars cigar worth $500,000, lit it, and blew out a smoke ring. “Son, I know you’ve suffered a lot for the past 18 years, and I feel ashamed that I couldn’t have provided more for you. I want you to take this ten million as pocket money first. You can ask me for more later if it’s not enough!”

Penniless Or Peerless: How Garry Smith Strikes Back

Ever since I was a child, I had always been poor. Every time I came home from school, I would be met with the sight of my father busying himself in the kitchen. From my earliest recollection, I would always remember my father wearing his old factory uniforms in the house. His hair was snow-white and he had very dark skin. He would usually smoke cheap cigarettes and the car he drove around was a Santana which was a real wreck. Despite all our hardships, my father threw himself into his work for 18 years and raised me to his best abilities, and I ended up not disappointing him as I managed to get into a very good university. Because I came from poverty, I had to work a part-time job in order to pay the high tuition fees. I knew my classmates must’ve looked down on me because I was so poor, but I did my best to not let that bother me. On the day of my 18th birthday, my father announced that he was going to give me a birthday present and that he would bring it to me in person. That day I saw my father in a new light. My father’s coarse snow-white head had turned shiny black. He had replaced his tattered clothes with expensive Givenchy suits, and he even wore a Patek Philippe watch around his wrist. The old Santana was now a limited edition Rolls Royce. I stared at my father with bewildered eyes and asked him in an incredulous voice, “Dad, is our family really the richest in the world right now?” My father took out a Mayan Sicars cigar worth $500,000, lit it, and blew out a smoke ring. “Son, I know you’ve suffered a lot for the past 18 years, and I feel ashamed that I couldn’t have provided more for you. I want you to take this ten million as pocket money first. You can ask me for more later if it’s not enough!”

A Twist Of Fate: Heir To The World's Wealthiest Man

Ever since I was a child, I had always been poor. Every time I came home from school, I would be met with the sight of my father busying himself in the kitchen. From my earliest recollection, I would always remember my father wearing his old factory uniforms in the house. His hair was snow-white and he had very dark skin. He would usually smoke cheap cigarettes and the car he drove around was a Santana which was a real wreck. Despite all our hardships, my father threw himself into his work for 18 years and raised me to his best abilities, and I ended up not disappointing him as I managed to get into a very good university. Because I came from poverty, I had to work a part-time job in order to pay the high tuition fees. I knew my classmates must’ve looked down on me because I was so poor, but I did my best to not let that bother me. On the day of my 18th birthday, my father announced that he was going to give me a birthday present and that he would bring it to me in person. That day I saw my father in a new light. My father’s coarse snow-white head had turned shiny black. He had replaced his tattered clothes with expensive Givenchy suits, and he even wore a Patek Philippe watch around his wrist. The old Santana was now a limited edition Rolls Royce. I stared at my father with bewildered eyes and asked him in an incredulous voice, “Dad, is our family really the richest in the world right now?” My father took out a Mayan Sicars cigar worth $500,000, lit it, and blew out a smoke ring. “Son, I know you’ve suffered a lot for the past 18 years, and I feel ashamed that I couldn’t have provided more for you. I want you to take this ten million as pocket money first. You can ask me for more later if it’s not enough!”

The CEO Drove His Mute Wife Away, Now He Regrets

For three years, Adrian's heart belonged to another, and his wife Jessica-mute and unloved-endured his coldness. Realizing she deserved better, she quietly left him, divorce papers on the table. Adrian tore them up, accusing her of childish games, but Jessica had no interest in wasting more of her life. After their split, her voice returned and she was suddenly surrounded by admirers. Adrian, blinded by jealousy, begged her to come back. Jessica only laughed, repeating his own words, saying, "Didn't you say love is the most worthless thing in the world?" Now, she'd never look back.

The Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.