I Remembered I Am Rich Novels & Stories

I wanted to forget the night with Sophie, it was of utmost importance that I do. I let the car windows down and allowed the night breeze to caress my skin while I listened to rhythm and blues. I felt free, no worries, no skimming, no heartbreak. Just me embracing peace. When I arrived at the hotel I was immensely impressed by the ambiance. It spoke of great wealth and deliberate planning. Sometimes I forget how rich I've become and tonight was one of those nights. I was starstruck by the dignitaries at the hotel, and also some celebrities having dinner with their partners. It had taken an unexpected inheritance to bring me to this level and put me in the same stage with high-caliber men and

-Rich? "I looked at him, he was looking for a bag in my kitchen, he apparently wanted to store the gun or what do I know." "Uhm?" He looked at me. "Why did that man say we were together again?" You and me I had been spinning and it was strange since, as I remember, I had never come to England. It was my first time. Rich returned to what he was doing. "Jhons doesn't know what he says," he replies. Because, as far as I know, I have never been to America and you have not come to England, have you? He looked at me. He had a black bag in hand, he put the gun there. No, of course he hadn't come, and that was the matter, I don't remember anything. Actually, I don't remember part of my childhood. "N

“Just take care of her, Mr Richard. That’s all you can do now.” He nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information. Then, he turned to me. “Do you remember anything?” he asked softly, his voice filled with hesitation. I stared at him, my mind a blank. “I… I can’t remember,” I whispered, keeping my voice shaky, just like we had practiced. “I don’t know who I am.” Richard’s face fell. “ Alisha right? Is that your name? Alisha?” I blinked, pretending to be confused. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.”

I stuck my tongue out at her and she playfully frowns. "You were shot, Rory." She tells me and this time, I see her panic and memory burns into my brain. "I know." I sigh loudly, shaking my head. "I remember everything -most of them though... In parts." "Who could have done this?" She asks blankly. I casually shrug, I can name about a hundred people who would. "I'm the son of the richest man alive and probably going to be the richest man someday," I tell her proudly. "Who doesn't want me dead?"

I’m rich! Mark liked to see his friend happy, but he remembered he had to find out a few things, and his face changed. When they entered the office he immediately turned on his computer, he had to find out who the hell this Richmond guy was. He typed his name into Yahoo! and some articles appeared on newspaper pages, apart from the well-known F******k. There was a lot of information, but what was on the first page of results was enough for him.

How could this Ryder be so mean? “Let’s not beat around the bush. You probably came from a middle class family. You came here, no fancy clothes, no expensive jewelry. I was told you were a wedding planner. I think you are ambitious; you needed somebody to bring you to the world of the rich. Well, maybe it’s a good thing that I lost a year of my memory, because I have time to undo what you are about to do to me.” “Ryder, don’t say this,” I begged him silently, tears rolling down my cheeks, in spite of him asking me not to cry.

for a minute there I had forgotten just how rich he was, I was enjoying myself too damn much to pay attention to anything else. I guess I just have to live with that fact, as much as I don't like it.

he said, as if he were discussing the weather. “Five hundred what?” I choked, nearly seeing my soul leave my body. Money, So Much Money. Am I a rich mistress of a prince now?

he affirmed, recognizing the glimmer of remembrance in my eyes. As the fragments of my past began to coalesce, I felt an overwhelming flood of emotions. Memories surfaced, not just as Iris, but as another, someone named Nadia. The realization hit me like a tidal wave—my true identity was Nadia, and the memories that resurfaced were a tapestry woven with love, betrayal, and tragedy.

On New Year's Eve, my little brother begs me to play hide-and-seek with him. The moment I cover my eyes and count to 30, the "eraser" in my mind starts moving again. I stand frozen for a few seconds, then turn around, go back inside, and start watching TV. An hour later, Mom crouches down in front of me. "Sweetheart, where's your little brother?" Little brother? I blink, confused. "I don't have a little brother…" Her expression drops instantly. Leaving the New Year's Eve dinner untouched, everyone surges out into the heavy snow. But no matter how hard we search, we can't find my brother. Mom raises her hand and slaps me hard across the face. Her eyes bloodshot. "Didn't I tell yo