Author Of Rich Man Poor Man Novels & Stories

He shrugged. "What was your big story and what ruined you?" I asked. He knitted his eyebrows at me precisely. "What's that supposed to mean? What do you mean by ruin me?" "Well, you see," I shifted in my seat and crossed one leg over the other, "life works weird for rich people. One minute, you guys are all happy and crap. Then next, one big incident changes everything and carves you into the man that you are today." I explained what I meant by my point.

Zheneria whispered breathlessly. Perfectly handsome. Perfect body. Perfect everything. Yoselin couldn’t take her eyes off him. A man like that—power, wealth, status, charm—all combined into one. Compared to all other men in white shirts, he was in a class of his own. Zheneria elbowed her again. “Do you think this is the guy Elena picked up? Her ‘pretty boy’?” Yoselin snapped out of her trance and scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. Elena’s pretty boy was cheap—ugly and chubby. If she somehow got a man like this, I’d call her boss!”

Anna's POV AFTER THREE WEEKS I used to think rich people have it all and the poor are the unfortunate ones meant to have one problem or the other that they are to solve every single day of their lives, most of which has to do with their finances. My thinking now has changed, ever since the day I visited Aidan's parents and I got to meet his mother and his father. Aidan is a billionaire but he has his unfair share of life challenges.

Consider them, Susan'' Aunt Mabel begged. ''Aunt, guess who he is?'' Susan said. ''Who is he?'' Aunt Mabel asked. ''Richard Williams, aunt. He is Richard Williams'' 'What? The popular Richard Williams that is rumored to be the richest man in the world?'' Aunt Mabel asked.

No wind would be favourable indeed, Emelda would respond –no amount of money would give him clarity about his taste. Though she wasn’t sure if this wind blew favour in all aspects of his life. As some people tended to be miserable immediately after they had money. He was going into details and Emelda loved it. Not like all those rich men that offered monosyllabic advice when asked how they made their wealth. Certainly not like the one she saw on TV last week. He said he prayed and had faith that he was going to be successful and the result of his faith became his wealth. Emelda was very quick to change the station before she muttered ‘balderdash’. She had often thought of this as a way of th

It was more than I expected , there were so many people ,the poor , the rich , The old , the young . The whole place was filled up ,I couldn't help but think that wasn't the only crowd . I walked up to the stage where the priest stood with a book in his hands,dressed in a long white robe with a cross imprinted on it . The two guards who beat me up days ago ,came behind me with the same blue tuxedos on ,I couldn't believe they were my best men. What was I expecting when I didn't have any friends? My friend was already dead so I should be grateful for their help.

"It would be so much easier if you just went out there and told them that the romours are true." "What?" "Yes, Christian. Tell them straight on that you suffered it and that it's gone now. Afterall it is gone, I've not really heard you struggle with it for some days now." He looked at me, really stared like what I was saying was foolish and at the moment, I did feel foolish. Of course I wouldn't know how being rich worked. He was the one who was born into it and I was sure they had gone through something like this before. So many things were involved with being rich. Your life no longer belonged to you alone, but to the wolves outside who only wanted to make some money and put food on their

Some had the largeness of blue whales, while others were as little as a toddler's car. "Breathtaking view, innit?" the young man said. His name was Richard, and he tried desperately to sound British. Elena shifted the headphones to hear him naturally. "Yeah," she admitted. "I've only heard what this place is like. Have never got to be here." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Your husband's the wealthiest goon I've encountered and worked with. Sorry for language, but sometimes it amazes me how one man can amass that amount of wealth, and still stay sane. God!"

"Miss Tucker, Mr. Larson's running a fever and refusing to eat. We can't get him to..." I sighed, pausing before answering. "That's what doctors are for. He's in a hospital – they won't let anything happen to him." Alexander stifled a laugh. I shot him a look and ended the call. We pulled up to an estate that looked straight out of a magazine. I gaped at the mansion before us, momentarily stunned. "How did you never mention your family was this wealthy?" Alexander looked surprised, then chuckled. "I thought the Garnett name would have given it away."

Diana asked. "Wealthy? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the Greysons. The man who used to be our gardener when we were little." "Uhh… I can’t remember." "Come on, Di. The gardener with the two-year-old daughter. Drietty used to share her toys with her." "Ohuu! That one? I remember now! But how did he become wealthy?" "When he lost his wife, Lady Miyani gave him one of her companies so he could raise his daughter better," Cardi explained. "But don’t ever call them wealthy. They’re rats compared to us."