Slumdog Millionaire Book Novels & Stories

I once did, but I'm glad that I've gone past that miserable kind of life together with my best friend, Emily. But what about the poor people that were still in the slums? They were suffering. If only I could do something...but was there something I could do? Asking Xavier for more favours would only drain him. It might be too early. Perhaps I should wait for the right time before I offer a suggestion. The people in the slums are not animals, they are omegas like me and they deserve a good life at the very least. I bit my bottom lip as my jaw tightened at the mention of the slums. The memories were horrid and they were still fresh in the recess of my mind. It was a life that I can never forg

"It's just that my life has been so horrible of recent." "Look, girl-" "I got scammed by a cute asshole. Eli Hardy wasn't even really his name." I said. "I don't want to know ab-" "And my bakery is gone. And I'm homeless. In debt and homeless. And my oven is going to sit in storage, wasting away. It was my dream oven. It's really pretty, I swear. I-" the man untangled my arms from his body and held me away. "Stop crying." He said.

I knew him—it had been a long time coming. I had often caught glimpses of them conversing in hushed tones, packing up hastily afterward, moving to a new place without explanation. I had stopped questioning it long ago, but now I was stunned to find the tables turned. My father, a billionaire, was not someone I had expected my mother to seek help from. **Third Person P.O.V** Ice's mother wasn't actually ill. The story was fabricated as part of an arrangement. Martin Santiago was one of the country's billionaires, inheriting the family business after numerous conflicts. His managerial prowess had significantly grown the company over five years. Despite his success, his greatest sorrow was his

If you are the type of person that likes to leave hateful comments for sport, then kindly exit the book. Thanks. Skylar's POV 150 million people. There's 150 million homeless people in the entire world and sadly, I'm one of them. Nearly a decade ago, my family of 5 (not including me) was killed in a bombing while I was sent out to the market to retrieve our Saturday breakfast of fresh, chocolate, croissants. When I came back, our small apartment building was just dust and ashes on the once beautiful street we lived on.

another sneered leaving me in shame. I glanced around and saw some people stare and chuckle, "Hey you girls, won't you stop being stupid!!" I swallowed hard as they laugh mockingly.. One of them flung a dollar note to me, "Go get something to eat!" they mocked and made fun.. I breathed and turn away leaving the money, can't believe I just did a mistake of coming here where the rich lives, I just left the slum and got myself here, now I was just insulted!!

Who would have known that behind those shining, large, pretty high-rise buildings in the mega city, there were slums like these? They stopped when they noticed a group of gangsters on the side of the road, they were drinking, gambling, smoking weed and speaking mandarin, all at the same time. They were the perfect target. Joana saw them, their minds were so easy to read, some were drug addicts, some were murders, some were even alcoholics. You could tell that these people didn’t have much of a life. It felt really bad to use them, as they were easy targets, and no one would care in case any of them died mistakenly by their hands, but they didn’t have much of a choice.

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.