Romans & histoires Rich Dad's Guide To Investing

He asked, his voice showing forced humility. "The best I can do for you, Mr. Blake, is 279.9million dollars. Are you in or not?" Mr. Blank said with urgency in his tone. "Where do we meet?" Dennis asked with a sigh. "At the club." --- Dennis prepared the check for Mr. Blank and headed to the Club. Immediately he stepped out of his car, a sense of dread washed over him. This is the biggest risk he has ever taken in his life. Buying this Club meant he was down to his last hundred thousand dollars, since all he had was 280 million. "But if you don't take risks, you take even more risks, right?" He whispered, giving himself the motivation he needed to go further.

That was pricy for one hot dog. "Two dollars. You get a free beverage" he grumbles as he wipes mustard on his stained off white apron. "Oh sure" says Sawyer as she rummages in her purse for one more dollar. She hands the man the money. She places mustard and other goodies on her hot dog. "Relish is an extra fifty cents miss" the man demands to her after she places it on her hot dog. "Oh fine" she grumbles out loud. She hands him her change. He hands her a beverage without a lid on it. It was not even a diet cola. She heads over to the bench to eat her meal while she was on hold for this Mr. Spencer still.

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

Angela' brows furrow as she says "You have done everything you can for him" Paz grumbled "He is a member of the family,we are family and we must support one another.I am hoping to get employed as CEO St Patrick's personal assistant." Angela grinned as she pulled the pot from the cupboard. "Just keep an eye out. The St Patrick brothers are said to be dangerously wealthy and rutheless according to rumors." Paz gave her opinion "Yes I am aware the "Nasty Billionairs" are they name,I am hoping I do not see them because I am terrified what can I do? I need the money." She laughed

he asks me. “I want to do something big,” I tell him. “I have the money. I need the advice.” “Well,” he says before clearing his throat, “there’s a lot that we can do. I like to suggest investing in stocks. Blue-chip stocks. Growth stocks. These are great because there’s always a guarantee that you’ll get your money back. These companies are well-established and are only expected to grow in the near future.”

Ruby gasped, "Are you for real?" " Yes darling, the thing is, the more you invest, the more your profit, so. I'm on my way to making billions ", " You want to invest your gain again? Don't invest everything, Patricia ", " I'm investing more than my gain, imagine if I invest five hundred billion dollars, how much do you think I'll get, sweetie I'll be swimming in money " Ruby chuckled, nodding her head, "Okay, but where did you plan to get that huge amount of money?".

"And Richard?" "Uncle Richard is even worse. He's greedy without being smart about it. He sees opportunities where there are only risks. He convinced my father to go in on investments together...real estate developments that never broke ground, tech startups with no viable products, schemes that looked good on paper but crumbled under scrutiny." "And they lost everything."

No one would have expected someone of that age to invest so much. His respect for Caddaric wasn’t because of his family background but rather, the intelligence and smartness he carried. The man knew that the man before him did not only own clubs and casinos but also hotels, jewelry shops, restaurants, and real estate. He invested everywhere the opportunity presented itself and without his family, he was still worth billions at twenty-five. In a few years, he would be swimming in trillions. “Before we start? What can I offer you?” The manager asked politely. Caddaric was flipping through pages of the documents carefully and spoke casually,

“I’m sorry about what my brothers did to Alex. The whole . . . arrest thing.” She waves it off. “He got what he deserved. Besides, he’s made more money off that stupid video in two days than most people make in a year. The ‘skit’ story is everywhere. He’s trending like crazy.” I smile, remembering the first time I saw one of Alex’s investment reports scroll across his laptop screen. It was millions in daily turnover from all his global portfolios. I hadn’t even flinched at the numbers. My dad’s money works the same way. I grew up watching numbers like that accumulate. Alex had stared at me, stunned, when I didn’t react.

My father—a Beta's salary, a modest pack house, a man who drove the same truck for fifteen years and grew his own vegetables because he said store ones tasted like cardboard—had been quietly building a fortune since before I was born. Not from nothing. From careful, consistent, unglamorous investment. Index funds. Small business partnerships. A piece of land outside pack territory purchased thirty years ago that had tripled in value. Reinvested returns, compounded across decades. He hadn't spent it on himself. Hadn't spent it on the house or the truck or anything visible. He'd been saving it for me.