Novel The Richest Poor Novels & Stories

"It hurts! It hurts me more! Don't you understand, that your savage sister ran away. Taking the money and jewelry I gave her," Arka snapped and then released the hold turning to stare at Mona's reddened cheeks. "That's impossible, Brother-in-Law," Mona said shaking her head, her knees felt weak and she fell to the floor. "I didn't think it was possible either, but this is what happened!" Arka snarled, kicking Mona to her back and causing the corner of her lip to bleed. "Go to your room, or you'll die by my hands right now!" Arka ordered, making Mona try to get up and step into the room while sobbing with pain.

On New Year’s Eve, I was working overtime at a mall. Then, I saw my girlfriend rent out the mall’s largest digital billboard to pressure a poor student into marrying her. I was about to go over and question them when the poor student responded emotionally, “Getting confessed to in my family’s mall is so romantic and meaningful.” “Silly boy. I’ve loved you for five years. Of course, I was going to propose. So, marry me, okay?” Then, they kissed passionately amid a chorus of cheers. They even won the mall’s Best Couple award that night. I smiled bitterly and volunteered to present the award to them. I wanted to see just what would happen when trash found trash.

Fiona loved Damon for ten years, and they finally walked into the church. However, on their wedding day, Damon told her that he couldn't deceive his own heart. He loved her sister, and he left Fiona alone at the altar. Fiona's heart shattered into a million pieces, but she would not allow them to humiliate her like that! She randomly found a man on the street to marry. After the wedding, she thought she had married a poor man, but surprisingly, he bore an astonishing resemblance to the enigmatic president of this city. When her company needed a million dollars, Bradyn immediately transferred 200 million dollars to her account. But when Fiona thought she had fallen in love with Bradyn, she

[This month’s property management fee is $1,500. Please make the payment on time.] My wife, Grace Anderson’s phone screen lit up. I glanced at it and then took the phone. “Did the management office miscalculate this? Our management fee should only total up to $28 a month.” Grace stood up abruptly and tried to snatch her phone back. “He must’ve miscalculated! Let me talk to him.” However, I had already clicked on the link and read the page. [Cloud Mansion, property owner: Ken Smith.] The young male nanny cooking in our kitchen had the same name. Something snapped in my brain. The three of us were living in a very small house, but Grace had bought a mansion for our manny!

For our college graduation trip, I spent a whole week glued to various travel apps, finally snagging a half-price couples' train package. I was just about to share the good news with my boyfriend and call it a night when his message came through. "Anna's going through a breakup. She needs to get away and clear her head. We're gonna use those tickets." "See if you can grab yourself another single ticket. It's not that much anyway - like five or six hundred bucks." For a moment, I was speechless. Before he received the scholarship my dad’s pack had specifically established for him, five or six hundred dollars used to be his entire monthly allowance. After a moment of silence, I picked up

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mot

'No matter what, No matter the time, No matter the place, No matter the century, No matter what's to come, I. will always. CHOOSE. YOU'. Everyone saw her as crazy..... But he saw her as nothing less than perfection. ................... "Why?" was the only thing he said. Confused I asked "Why what?" "Why do you always do this to yourself?" the tone in which he spoke almost seemed like he was heartbroken about something. "Do what?" I dared to ask, although I knew already within me I wouldn't like his response. "Conceal your worth" ....................... If you like this small insight of the story then please read on. The only thing I can guarantee you in this sto

Every time my assistant booked a private room for me, he brought his girlfriend along. I let it slide. The room was on his way home anyway. Then today I pushed the door open and found a sticky note slapped on the head chair: "Freeloaders not allowed." I peeled it off and turned to him. "What's this about?" His girlfriend was already sitting in the head seat, glaring at me. "Can't you read?" she snapped. "Mooching off my boyfriend every damn day. Have you no shame?" "If you can't afford Michelin, don't show up. I can't stand cheap old hags like you. Honestly, if I lived your life, I'd kill myself." I just stared at her, baffled. Justin rushed over and lowered his voice. "Boss, I'm so

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in