روايات وقصص ضمن Padre Rico Hijo Pobre

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I said. But you have to help me. I can’t let them take Chiara. You have connections. Make a call. Please!” He was on his knees again. I should have felt triumph. I felt nothing but a deep, weary disgust. “She killed your father,” I stated, each word a stone. “And you want to save her.” He bit his lip, tears welling again. “I know… but I can’t just abandon her! What happened to my father… it’s done! What am I supposed to do?” He was morally bankrupt. Incapable of real loyalty, real love, or even real hate.

I chewed the apple and said, a little muffled, "Yeah, sounds great. Is Dad paying?" My father, who had just walked by, shouted, "Of course. Buy whatever you want. If it makes you happy, I'll buy the whole auction house." See? This was life in a wealthy family. Simple and, honestly, a little boring. Sure, every now and then, some clueless idiot would show up and try to stir things up. But as long as we stuck together, nothing could really touch us. After all, we were a happy, loving family.

The water hissed loudly as it hit the aluminum pot. "Yes, me. Didn't I tell you earlier that I would do my part and handle my responsibilities as your husband?" Liam countered over the sound of running water, his tone dripping with mockery. "It would be embarrassing to make you do it, seniorita. Your expensive skin might get ruined by a dish soap that costs mere pennies. And why on earth would I throw these away? You can clearly see how hard life is, and you think I would just throw away perfectly good plates? Not everyone here can afford to waste things like you used to in your mansion."

Her parents… There was her father, Samuel Anderson, near his Mercedes, looking hunted and furious. It was the first time Phoebe had seen him in the last five years. She stood still, the color draining from her shattered face. Lorenzo hissed. “I don't think you should read that stuff. It's only going to upset you.” Phoebe stared down at the pages. There was a picture of the shabby street where she had lived as a child. There was a caption beneath the photo. 'From poverty to wealth beyond wildest imagination. How? The billion-dollar baby!'

I supplied the confused looking Honourable. "Ohhh?" The man laughed as he realized his mistake. I gave a small smile as Ricardo mouthed a 'thank you'. "Still, my appreciation is in order! You both are still the same family! Thank you for taking my boy under your wings! I am indebted!" I had thought that was all the man had to say about it, until he began narrating an epistle. "So, I had been skeptical when Ricardo insisted on getting a job himself! He is from a wealthy family, and as such, not suppose to struggle for a job, when I could just put a call across and get him a befitting one! You know......" And that was how he continued talking about his son's career and interests. 10 minutes an

"And then, once we get the money, we'll go abroad for a vacation and then stage a deadly accident after coming back. It won't matter if she ever finds out about the truth then, because what right does a married woman have to her parents' inheritance, after all?" I didn't have the courage to continue listening to the rest of their conversation. All I knew was that I felt so devastated as I left the dealership that I nearly collapsed to the ground. I even thought of taking off my mask and cap and confronting them right then and there for a moment. Why was it that their precious son could drive a Ferrari worth 500,000 dollars, while their daughter was told that they were too poor to afford her

She seized our stepfather's hand and declared, "Mom, Dad, I want to be with you!" I, however, ran behind my grandfather and clutched his calloused hand. Across from me, Phoebe curled her lips into a mocking smile. I knew then—she must have been reborn, too. In our previous life, after Father died, we had faced this same choice. Phoebe had overheard at the funeral that Grandpa was a wealthy antique collector, so she chose him without hesitation. Before leaving, she even raised her chin proudly and sneered at me, "Soon I'll be enjoying life with Grandpa. As for you, just wait—you'll be stuck babysitting for our stepdad like some lowly servant."

Grandpa asked this time "Family?" Dad asked nervously "Well, he's not from a rich family like ours. His parents were a little bit rich when they were alive so they left some properties for him. He's trying to build his own company now" Dad lied Wow! I never knew my Dad was a great liar, how is he able to lie smoothly like this? "What's his family name?" Grandpa asked again "Uhhm! It's..... Rodriguez" Dad said after a while "It's a nice name. Besides, that family was once the richest family in America. I don't know if it's the same Rodriguez though" Grandma said

“My dad made sure we had first-class tickets to make up for us not being able to go in the private jet with him.” I quickly gather my bags and follow her to the counter, pretending like I know what the fuck I’m doing. Adriana is used to all this money, but I grew up in a family where both parents worked and we still struggled with money on many occasions. Adriana and her dad don’t act stuck up. You’d never know Mr. Rodriguez was so ridiculously wealthy just by hanging around him. He’s very down-to-earth and nice, not to mention incredibly sexy.

All I could do was keep dreaming and wishing he would acknowledge that someone he sees as a scumbag is madly in love with him. Then I felt it was so wrong to be craving something I cannot have. Judging from his background, they are among the top one percent richest people in the country. Imagining a nobody like me, whose father keeps calling a mistake, whose father hated me so much. I was from a poor home; poverty was actually my surname because my dad did nothing but lazy around drinking alcohol. Remembering that, my gaze fell on the drink I had in my hand. “You are ending up to become like your father,” my mind reminded me.