Chapter 1 Money, Money, Money, Money

There were only two more days until the waiting period for the divorce was over. So, Anthony went back to his old place near the campus to clean up. He was going to move in after the divorce was finalized.

Anthony opened up the wardrobe.

There, he found his old T-shirts he had owned back from his college days. He pulled his drawers open, revealing two yellowing books, some certificates, and a box of long-expired condoms.

The deepest drawer was stuck. So, he ended up yanking it as hard as he could just to open it. Fortunately, the drawer eventually budged even though the contents in its embrace spilled everywhere.

Just then, a black USB drive fell onto Anthony's foot. He didn't remember owning it, but he picked it up anyway. After he took a closer look at it, it didn't seem like this old Kingston drive was anything special.

Still, he plugged it into his laptop just in case. There was only one file inside, and it read 'wallet_4735.txt'. He was intrigued, so he clicked on the file.

Soon, a whole page of alphanumeric script popped up like some sort of key. There was a message at the end of the page that read, "4735 of them, Tony. Don't sell early."

Anthony stared at the message, dumbfounded.

'4735 of what?' he wondered in confusion.

However, his heart skipped a beat as an inkling rose in him. He quickly copied the key and inserted it into his wallet app. When the page was refreshed, he saw multiple zeroes appearing on the screen.

That was when he realized what those 4735 were. It was bitcoins that were worth 302.37 million Amestrian dollars. Once he converted it to Chanaean dollars, it came up to a total of 2 billion dollars.

Anthony stared at the screen, utterly dumbstruck. He was so out of it that he even stopped breathing, and the only sound that could be heard in the room was the whirring of the laptop's fans.

Rays of October's sun slithered through the cracks of the curtains and formed a slender line on the screen, hitting the nine-figure number.

Anthony reached for the glass of water on the table, but his fingers were trembling. The moment his butterfingers touched the glass, it slipped and shattered against the ground. Still, he didn't care; his eyes were completely glued to the screen.

Yves Staunton.

Anthony finally remembered that name. He was the manager of the internet cafe Anthony used to frequent back in high school, and he was also a friend who always kept one seat open for him at all times.

They were having a drink one night while watching a game. Suddenly, they were hit with news about an out-of-school fight. Yves came running and asked for a little loan for his escape. Anthony grabbed 10 thousand and gave it to him.

Yves took the money and handed him something in return: this very USB drive. He had said, "This is collateral. It's yours if I don't pay you back in a year."

He ran off after that.

Unfortunately, he died in a car crash later that night.

Anthony never asked for his money back in case he ran into trouble. Instead, he tucked the drive away in his drawer. And so, 15 years have gone by since then. Now, he just discovered he had made 2 billion in return for the 10 grand he loaned out of kindness.

Anthony's body began to shake uncontrollably. His phone rang, and it was from his mother. Anthony took a couple of deep breaths before he took the call. "Yes, Mom?"

"You sent me money again this month, Anthony," said Penelope Quinton softly, carefully. "Linda's going to think you're a burden. This won't be good for your family."

Anthony wanted to tell her he was filthy rich, but he swallowed his words. His mother had a frail heart that stemmed from a major surgery during her youth. She couldn't suffer anything that would excite her too much.

"It's fine, Mom. I can handle my financial problems."

"What about your own expenses? Your father said his boss can pay him an extra 2,000 next month, so…"

"Don't worry about me. Just take care of yourself. You and Dad both."

"We're fine," Penelope said softly. "Zack comes back whenever he has time, so don't worry about us."

"Yeah." Anthony covered his face with his left hand and slid it down hard. "I'll be back for Grandma's birthday. Tell Zack to drop by more often."

Anthony hung up and plopped down on the dusty couch. The room was so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat, and it was thundering against his eardrums.

Two billion. He brought his hands to his face again, his eyes becoming unfocused. Everything that happened seven years ago played itself in his head like an old film.

His father was Howard Crestellan, and someone had set his construction company up. They had a 27-million-dollar hole to fill, and they couldn't collect their debt. To make things worse, the tax collector and the company's auditor were in on the plot.

His family's world crumbled overnight. Anthony had just gotten married. However, he didn't hesitate to suggest selling this house to pay their debt, but his mother and wife vehemently objected to it.

They struggled for more than six months to make ends meet and sell everything they had, but they were still 4 million short.

In the end, they had to take out loans from their relatives.

Anthony went from a trust fund baby to a guy who lived paycheck to paycheck. He was just 26 years old back then. Regardless, he got a job as a salesman for a company that ran import and export businesses in Bresnia.

After his day job was done, he worked as an Uber driver and a chauffeur. He made 16,000 every month.

He would give 8,000 to his wife, Linda Weston, for the family, while he gave his family 6,000 to pay off their remaining debt. Finally, he saved the remaining 2,000 for himself. That 2,000 was just enough for food and the train fare in Bresenia.

He barely bought any new clothes for himself for seven years. He swore off cigarettes and rarely went to gatherings, all for the sake of saving money.

Nonetheless, Linda served him the divorce papers a month ago. "I can't take it anymore. If my well-being isn't enough, then think about Tim. Do you want him to live his life being burdened by your debt?"

Linda kept her head low and didn't meet Anthony's eyes. She sounded so calm that it made him wonder whether she was talking about another family. He said nothing, staring at the papers for 10 minutes before finally signing them.

And so, she got the house in the new town, the one Anthony was still paying for, while the three-bedroom in the old town area was given to Timothy Crestellan, her son.

There were two days left until the waiting period was over. Anthony stood up and went back to the laptop. The screen was still lit, and the billions were still there. He picked up his phone and was going to call Linda, telling her he was rich.

He wanted to tell her he could pay off his debts, and they didn't have to get that divorce.

Yet, he found his finger hovering over the screen as he started to wonder, 'She endured seven years of hardship. So, why the sudden change of mind?'

He slowly placed his phone down as things that had confused him for years began to make sense. It was like putting on glasses for the first time, as all blurred outlines suddenly had sharp edges.

He realized that Linda had gotten a lot more impatient with him over the last month. She didn't look him in the eye when they talked, and she was always texting someone else behind his back.

Timothy had been acting oddly as well. One could even say that he had become distant almost overnight. He didn't know when it started, but the way he called him 'Dad' no longer sounded respectful. It sounded like a routine obligation.

Anthony used to think it was the debt that was driving them crazy. However, he was finally forced to come to terms with the one possibility he didn't want to face now that he was buoyed by his newfound wealth.

So, he quickly asked some lawyers for their opinion. The applicable statute stated that any wealth that was gained prior to the marriage belonged to that person forever. They also made it clear that it wouldn't change into a co-owned asset just because the marriage lasted for years.

The same law also stated that only the proceeds that were gained through managing and investing the premarital assets belonged to the couple. The rise in value and yields all belonged to the owner alone.

Anthony heaved a sigh of relief and tucked his phone away. He grabbed his car keys and left the old house. He would cash in on the Bitcoins. Then, he would find out why Linda brought up divorce.

The winds were cold in Bresenia even though it was still just October. A Passat was zooming past a riverside road. Anthony rolled the car windows down. Soon, the chilly wind screamed inside his car. Yet, his mind had never felt clearer.

He'd been working himself to the bone just to pay off his debt for seven years. He had forced himself to endure all sorts of humiliation and bitterness, but it was time to live a better life now. Money was his source of confidence, and he had never felt more confident.

Still, that didn't mean he could be prideful. He repeatedly told himself to stay calm.

When he was waiting for the green light, he called his childhood friend, Lawrence Grayman. "Get me some reliable lawyers, Lawrence. It's important."

"What's up?" Lawrence sounded surprised, but he knew that it had to be serious business.

Anthony and Lawrence grew up together. Back when Anthony's family went bankrupt, Lawrence had tried to sneakily transfer him two million behind his wife's back. Anthony didn't accept it, but he never forgot that his friend had tried to lend a helping hand.

"Asset stuff."

"Is that really it?"

Anthony stared at the red light and grunted.

"Sure, I'll send you their contacts. Trust me. They're reliable."

Anthony hung up and stepped on the gas. His car roared and joined the flow of traffic.

Two billion, and he had gotten it prior to his marriage. As long as he didn't place that asset under his name or mix it up with postmarital family expenses, no one would be able to take a single cent of it from his grasp.

Regardless, he had two questions that needed answering. One, how was he going to make sure that the money all went into his pocket? Two, were the people he had been slaving away for the past seven years actually worth all that effort?