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Mighty Super-rich Heir

Chapter 3 Of Events

Word Count: 499    |    Released on: 30/09/2022

bsmacked at the sight

been in such a

rs. They aimed several heavy-duty guns at t

he armed men were like snipers in a special fo

on here? Who

is pants as he looked

had no idea what was going on. He only noticed th

his is my chance to escape,

up the strength and charged t

s soft belly wit

A

in pain, hold

ry grabbed the machete and placed

I'll chop off his head even though I'd die in

strange tur

boss on the brink of death. They al

med men rushed forward and t

to be shocked. He st

had terrifying guns scared him o

vicious men? Wh

ght up in a ri

e crowd suddenly parted in half. A middle-aged m

os

men salute

ce the middle-aged man

ad

re. He couldn't figure out why his meek fathe

just addressed him as their boss. He seemed

w his son looking so disheveled. He s

usion. "Why are you here? Why did these men address you as their

embarrassedly and replied, "Actually, I wanted to hide this side of m

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Mighty Super-rich Heir
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!"”