A Billionaire In Disguise

“Run, Rome! Run, and don’t look back!”

“Honk!!!!!!”

Rome’s eyes suddenly opened with fear glowing in them as he jumped from his sleep with sweat dripping down his skin.

Then he struggled to catch his breath while his heart pounded violently in his chest.

He could feel his hands trembling as he suspiciously gazed around before stroking his fingers through his dark silky hair and then gently rubbing his face to awaken himself.

“I can’t believe that I had this dream again,” Rome mumbled.

Still feeling traumatized by his dream, he got out of bed and walked over to the fan seated in the corner of his tiny room and inspected it.

“It broke in the middle of this killer heat weather, seriously?” Rome mumbled as he stared at the fan with frustration in his eyes.

At that moment, a loud noise drew his attention toward his door, and his ears attentively listened to the voices echoing into his room.

“Hey!! Old fool. Where is my damn money!”

“Mr. Orlando, but the deadline for the loan has not been reached yet.”

“Shut up! Your shop seems to be doing well, so why can't I ask for my money early!!”

“But… but I don't have any money now. I spent it all on goods. How about waiting for the fifth of next month as we have discussed.”

“Haha! An old thing like you have guts! If you don't give my money today, I will have to take whatever valuables I can find to pay for your debt!”

“You can't do that, and this is illegal!”

“Get out of my way!”

“Ah!”

With rage devouring him from the inside, Rome marched outside of his room.

When he entered the store, he stopped and stared with burning rage glowing in his eyes.

“Dad!” Rome shouted, looking down at a man with winter-white hair, then he focused his sight on his timeworn face and stared into his watery eyes.

“Go back inside your room, Rome. I don't want you getting into trouble because of me. I will handle this.” Mr. Miller cried.

Mr. Orlando walked over to the old man and squatted. Then he held onto both of Mr. Miller's cheeks and violently squeezed it.

“How are you going to handle this, Oldman?” Mr. Orlando rudely said.

Just by listening to the tremble in his father's voice and the arrogance in Mr. Orlando’s tone had Rome shivering from the anger pumping through his rapidly beating heart.

“I give you guys one minute to get your asses out of our store!” Rome shouted.

Within a split second, the room got filled with noise as Mr. Orlando and his men burst into a peal of laughter.

"Boy, that's some filthy mouth you have there!” Mr. Orlando mockingly stated, standing to his feet.

Then he gazed at one of his men and winked at him, and immediately the guy started walking towards Rome.

“No, please. Let my son be!” Mr. Miller shouted.

“Shut your hole up!” Mr. Orlando yelled with a smirk on his lips.

Rome remained still even when he and the guy were facing each other at a close range.

“You shouldn't have offended my boss.” The man slyly said, rudely patting Rome on his shoulder.

At that exact instant, Rome grabbed him by the wrist and pulled it away from his shoulder.

While the guy struggled to get his hand out of Rome's grip, he held onto it tightly and then popped his bones apart.

“Argh! You son of a...!” The guy shouted.

But he couldn't end his statement because Rome had brutally hit his kneecap against the guy's windpipe, knocking him unconscious to the floor.

“Who's next!” Rome coldly mumbled as his dark eyes coldly stared at the remaining seven robust men.

Mr. Orlando winked his eye, and the other men rushed towards Rome with deadly expressions plastered on their faces.

Rome stepped back to create a distance. Then he coldly smiled as they all strike at once.

Mr. Orlando's eyes kept rapidly changing direction while watching his men fall to the floor one after another.

Rome sneered when the last man standing rushed towards him. Then he giggled before hook-kicking the guy in his face, sending him five steps backward before he hit the floor.

“Where are you going?” Rome provokingly shouted, staring at Mr. Orlando running out of the store.

Rome then burst into laughter as he watched Mr. Orlando tripped on a rock and fell face flat to the ground.

“Hey, take your idiots along with you too. We don't want to dirty our store with garbage!” Rome yelled.

“I will be back! And once I do, you will understand who's going to have the last laugh!” Mr. Orlando shouted, cleaning the dirt off him.

Rome kept laughing until his eyes met with Mr. Miller's angry gaze, and in that instant, his voice got lower and lower till he was silent.

“You trouble child!” Mr. Miller shouted, approaching Rome.

He then grabbed onto his son’s ear and pulled it hard till it turned red.

“Ah, ah! Father, I just saved you, so why am I getting punished.” Rome childishly cried.

“Because Mr. Orlando is not only a money loaner, but he is also in a gang, and his boss is an evil man. We need to leave now.” Mr. Miller said in fear.

“But why?”

“He's going to kill you. I can't protect you because I am filthy poor, and because of that, you are also penniless!”

“Hey! That's not fair. You've been doing your best.”

“Yet it's not enough. Since I found you on that fateful night, laying in a pool of blood, I haven't done much for you then, and now, that your life is in danger because of me, there's only one thing I can do.”

“Dad…”

“I know what you are about to say, and I appreciate the fact that you are striving to spare my feelings from getting hurt. But I know that I am not capable of protecting you, so I am taking you somewhere that you will be safe.”

“Do I get a saying in this?”

“No! Now hurry up and go pack your things.”

Rome stared at his father, trembling hands and terrified eyes for a moment before running into the back of the store, where his room was.

A few seconds later, he returned with a worn-out bag hanging on his shoulder and met with Mr. Miller.

“What’s that?” Rome mumbled as he stared at the paper in his father's hand.

“This is your ticket to getting into a wealthy family.” Mr. Miller mumbled.