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Penniless Or Peerless: How Garry Smith Strikes Back

Chapter 3 Fire Her

Word Count: 473    |    Released on: 22/08/2022

w can I

uy this hous

at a picture of a house for sale tha

three hundred and twenty thousa

s eyes widen

will pay y

ha

ted when she

looks like he comes from a poor backgrou

burst out laughing

fford such a house since

ious look, thinking that he only sai

his fool is all lies. If his card transaction

ld you to your

pointed his

er at him with a

to get out of this shop whil

et and handed his ban

expression shi

e but to take the car

Soon I will see how you're li

y said to the middle-aged man, "S

I also want to see that per

and sarcastic gazes,

e manager came out

ightly and the expression he had on

r, manager? Did y

e, made his way up to Garry, and hand

his words as if they had just been struck

d that be

shocked an

t of mistake? How coul

your m

hand and slapped Caitli

! As of now,

er was ve

an dared to off

lion dollars, So how could it be possib

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Penniless Or Peerless: How Garry Smith Strikes Back
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!"”