Novel & Cerita Found 100 Million In My Rented Apartment

Gary really came through, he got me into a small fixer upper studio apartment, it wasn’t much but it was furnished and it was all mine. I just had to agree to keep it quiet and not draw attention. I don’t know what they normally charged for rent, but I didn’t care, $1,500 bucks bought me three months with electric and water included. I still kept most of my money in the bus locker, I didn’t trust leaving it in my apartment. I got myself a library card and took out all kinds of books. I got to know the ladies there and they were all in love with me.

I'm not folding, not without a fight. I'd already paid the deposit and first month's rent on my apartment's lease, but maybe if Patrick had room... I knew my chances were slim. I wouldn't have had an extra room. The one-bedroom apartment I rented on the Upper West Side was nearly three thousand a month. That was for one bedroom, a living room, galley kitchen, and small bathroom. Square footage was extremely expensive in Manhattan. Not many people had extra bedrooms. Then again, in order to keep my dream alive, I'd sleep on a couch for three years.

"He was giving it to her." Emma grabbed Grace's hand. "I'm so sorry." Rachel kept scrolling. "There's more. Sophia got kicked out of her apartment last year for not paying rent. Guess who paid her back rent and security deposit for a new place?" "Mason," Grace said flatly. But I thought she was from a wealthy family. "Yep. Twenty-two thousand dollars." "This is insane," Aiden said. "How much has he given her total?" Rachel did some quick math. "Over the past three years? At least half a million dollars. Maybe more. These are just the transfers I could find."

The second I crossed the threshold, I was so dead tired that I just crashed on the couch. Wendell and I had cohabited for a year. I was the one leaseholder for this apartment. The rent was 4,800 dollars a month. Wendell would wire me 2,000 dollars every month, and I covered the rest. Every single time, he'd say, "Renting is like flushing money down the toilet. Let's just split it for now. Once we buy a place, we'll be set. Just tough it out for a bit longer."

I was excited and scared at the same time. Malcolm didn't say anything. He just pressed his chin a little harder into my shoulder. The next morning, he dragged me out of bed. He placed my laptop on the table and opened a rental website. "Look," he said, pointing at the screen. I leaned in and almost got blinded by the prices. He was looking at luxury apartments downtown, including penthouses with rents higher than my entire previous year's salary. He pointed to a top-floor duplex with a rooftop garden and an outdoor pool and said, "This one. We can raise fish here."

The same number that had nearly given me a heart attack. Then I looked back at her. “Ten thousand dollars.” Her mouth fell open. For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Then Maya blinked. “Ten thousand dollars?” I nodded. “That’s what it says.” “Ten thousand dollars.” “You’re repeating yourself.” “Because that’s a lot of money.” I laughed. A slightly hysterical laugh but still a laugh because she wasn’t wrong. It was enough money to solve several problems. Rent. Food. Doctor appointments. Bills.

“If I don’t work, I can’t pay rent.” “Check your bank account.” I hesitated. “What?” He waved me off, eyes back on the TV. “Just check it.” I noticed the wall by the door was gone. Finally. I stepped outside, still dazed, his words bouncing around my head. Fortunately, there was an ATM nearby. I hurried over, fished out my card, and punched in my PIN. Five seconds later, the screen loaded—and my jaw dropped. Ten. Million. Dollars. I counted the digits three times to be sure. Eight zeros. One massive one. Ten million freaking dollars.

The journey to Montagu became a significant mission of mine. Finding an apartment to rent was not as difficult as I assumed it would be as many options were open for me. Thanks to the internet. I found the best room at an affordable rate, R1000 rand, not more than that. The room was small in size, the paint on the wall was fading, however there was electricity and the water was safe to drink.

Started pulling clothes out of my closet. "But at least I'll be free." She left an hour later, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows. I sat on my bed, surrounded by half-packed boxes, and let out a long, shaky breath. Three days. I pulled out my phone and opened the rental listings. The first apartment was in Bushwick. Six hundred square feet, fourth-floor walkup, bathroom shared with three other units. Two thousand dollars a month. I made forty-two thousand a year. Before taxes.

“Ami, you can’t save everyone.” “I’m not trying to save him. He doesn’t need saving—just a break.” I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. I turn to head back, but his next words stop me. “We gave him ten thousand to move. He can find a new apartment.” Ten grand? What ten grand?