Slumdog Millionaire Book Novels & Stories

I feel so helpless right now. "What if I told you I heard about a job opportunity as a house cleaner, and the pay is catchy, and it could cover up for your sister's surgery f*e, you know? Besides, I heard he is a Billionaire, and who knows? You might even meet someone important.” as she leaned closer. Isabella's hope sparked. “A billionaire? That sounds too good to be true." Mia hesitated. "Well, I heard he expects perfection, and his staff works long hours. But if you're willing to take the challenge, I can set up an interview."

she said simply. I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, I laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Is this some kind of joke?" "Not at all," she said in all seriousness. "The man in question is a billionaire. He needs a wife, and we need someone desperate enough to take the deal. And Y-O-U, my dear, fits the bill perfectly." The words stung, but I couldn’t deny the truth in them. I was desperate. Homeless. Heartbroken. Seeking revenge.

You can talk about squalor all you want, but until you’ve actually smelled it for yourself, you’ll never really get it. We walked past a yard where people sat around a fire, roasting squirrels. They smiled politely at us, but I knew they were embarrassed—embarrassed and angry. That’s how I’d always felt when someone from the packhouse had come into the slums. It was hard not to be angry, knowing that the royals had so much and we had so little. Jax tossed them a little wave, but they didn’t wave back. He cocked his head to the side.

“Hey. Pretending to be deaf, are you?” Mud covered Sylvia—it stuck to her hair and her clothes. Breathing hurt. Every movement hurt. But she still met Uno’s gaze and casually grinned. “Fuck off, orphan bastards.” Her biggest bully froze for a moment. Orphans were a dime a dozen in the slums. Everyone had their own story. But the triplets’ story was well-known in these parts. They were born by a foreign woman believed to be a slave and abandoned the moment they came into the world.

“You didn’t just go out with a rich guy. You went out with internationally rich, possibly bulletproof, definitely too-hot-to-be-safe kind of rich.” I groaned. “Clara, this is bad. Really bad.” “Maybe not,” she said, scrolling further. “Listen, it says he lived in London for years, working legit finance stuff. No scandals, no shady charges. The press loves him. Calls him ‘the civilized Moretti.’” “Yeah,” I muttered, “because ‘civilized’ screams mafia prince with a conscience.” Clara shrugged. “Still beats your last man, the amnesia-ridden CEO with a psycho wife.”

Long seconds later, the doors rolled open to reveal the penthouse—a vast expanse of black granite, faintly lit and lavishly furnished. The walls, which could have been covered in crisp bills, screamed of an opulence as loud as the owner’s net worth. The walls were adorned with art that cost more than the apartment that Elizabeth currently shared with her brother. To a mortal, this place seemed as inaccessible in price as the man himself was claimed to be in character.

“Say a word, beg me, June… Maybe I can rent out my doghouse to you.” I shut my eyes tight. Anger welled up inside me, but I lacked words. I had a lot to tackle, a lot to think of. My feet clicked once, but her hand grabbed my wrist, pulling me back to my spot. “I'm not done speaking to you, slum girl.” The smile on her face had disappeared. “You thought you could fool everyone by acting like you're better than us and by having boys fight over you, huh?” My eyes fell to the floor. She was right again. It was so stupid of me to think I could stop being a “slum girl”. And now? I was begging to return to the slums, and even the slums seemed to be… too expensive right now.

Hungry, tired, I've cried for hours, I have been humiliated, I feel ashamed, I just wanted to die. I moved away from the door and sat down at one corner. The room was dark, not entirely. It had this weird smell like something died here, it was so cold and I could hear water dripping from the ceiling. I could hear some voices... I think. ‘It's probably just in my head’, I said. My mind went back to that handsome devil who had me locked up in here. I was so foolish to think he actually cared when he bidded 50 million on me, I wasn't even worth that amount.

Life is really becoming unbearable with every breath we inhale and exhale out. The landlord was so shameless and desperate that he even wanted to rape my sister all because of money why? Ya Allah why is every one treating us bad just because of money why? A knock from the door jolted me out of my reveries. Behold it was Khalid at the door side. I smile and ask him to come in. I introduced him to Reedah and also told her, he was the good Samaritan that help us with everything including the hospital bills and other necessary things.

“Boss, how on earth did you find this place? None of us has ever been to the slum before!” “That's right, Boss. Please tell us what happened so we can admire your heroic act!” Megan was embarrassed by her subordinates’ praises. She had no idea how to explain this to them. “Although we don’t usually come to the slum for no reason, it doesn't mean that I don't pay attention to what happens here. The homeless people in the slum are human beings too. "Although they have a lowly status and our guys always encounter danger here, it doesn’t mean I’ll give up on these pitiful people!”