Found 100 Million In My Rented Apartment の小説・ストーリー

After I graduated, I rented an apartment that was approximately 650 square feet. Before I rented it, the agent told me that there had been a fire incident in the place, and someone had died. It was later converted into an apartment building. But I did not mind it. After all, the rent was cheap, and the decor was simple. The only problem was that the soundproofing was bad. A couple lived in No. 303. Whenever the sun went down, the wife would start moaning embarrassingly loudly.

she snarled. "Tsh! You make me laugh..do you think I run a charity organization or what?" I scoffed.. "I know you would say this but what if i pay you $1 million as a yearly rent" she asked.. "No! I'm not interested" "$3 million " "No!! " "$5 million" she insisted.. What the hell?That's a huge sum of money! "Okay fine!! I'll take you to your new home tomorrow" I said and walked out.. I got to my secret chamber - zach was still busy with his incantations...

After leaving the school, Olivia and Bella immediately went to the address they had previously gotten, they didn't know that it was an apartment, not a house. Not long after, Olivia and Bella arrived at the basement of the apartment building they were aiming for, they didn't expect that the address listed here was a rather luxurious apartment, for a Camellia classmate who only worked as an ordinary employee before, it was impossible to live in this luxury apartment. “Crazy, is this thanking? That street girl lives here? Even the rent costs alone reach 5 billion per year, especially if it is owned, it will surely reach 15 billion. Is that woman actually a rich man in disguise?” Olivia asked h

The eviction notice came on a Tuesday, slipped under my door like a coward’s whisper. “Final Warning: Rent Past Due.” I stared at it for hours, heart pounding, stomach twisting. At 23, I was already drowning in student loans, a part-time barista gig barely covering ramen and bus fare. The apartment was crappy: leaky faucets, peeling paint, but it was mine. Or had been.

Kent dropped me off at the off-campus apartment that I rented with my roommate, Juan Wang. My hair disheveled and my clothes ripped. After everything happened today, I am so exhausted that I just want to sneak quietly into my room and tuck myself in. But the door swings open, and Juan Wang is the living room. “Emm, you are still up? Thank for getting the door for me BTW.” I am totally beaten, but I try to put up a friendly face and make a small talk.

Because of her mutual friendship with Julia, she charged me less than half of the rent price. The space screamed modern, displaying high-end furniture and appliances. My bedroom was big enough to be divided into two bedrooms for a regular-sized apartment, and my bathroom was half that size. Yep, I slept on a king-size bed, watched a fifty-inch flat-screen television and cooked in a gourmet-style kitchen. One would never believe I was up to my neck in debt with the way I dwelled. Everyone around me was prosperous, except me. I was just a sponger.

The gang didn't look like they were just saying words when they threatened me. I had been racking my brain since dawn came, for a solution but none was forthcoming. One week. Where the hell would I get ten million dollars in one week? I tried picturing the items in our house I could sell off but except for the TV which sometimes malfunctioned, the refrigerator which was an old model and won't amount to anything tangible, and the worn-out couches and mattress, there was no single valuable item in our tiny apartment. A palm gently touched my shoulder and I jumped.

“No need. The police are already here.” I stepped aside to let them in. One officer looked around the room. “Who is the tenant?” Mark was on the balcony. Hearing the commotion, he rushed out. “I am. I’m the tenant.” He didn’t understand what was going on, but when he saw Claire’s expression, he seemed to realize something was wrong. “Who rented this apartment to you?” “It was... Claire.” “What is your relationship with her?” “I was married to her sister.” “Did you know the market rent for this apartment is ten thousand dollars a month? And she rented it to you for three hundred dollars a month for three years.”

I was just another woman trying to survive in a big city. And for now, that was enough. Thanks to the money Lucian had given me before everything spiraled out of control—money I hadn’t even touched at first out of pride—I was able to rent a small two-bedroom apartment in a quiet neighborhood. It wasn’t luxury, but it was clean, safe, and ours.