The Blacklist The Good Samaritan

"Shut down for rectification, fined $500,000, plus $300 compensation per customer. That’s the penalty from the Food Safety Bureau. Let’s see if you dare serve us gutter oil again!” Yves Larson, a part-timer at a construction site, sends me a provocative text purposefully, as though he's worried that I don't know what's going on. I just stare at the sign that says "closed for renovation", which is hung on the front door of my eatery. Never would I expect that the budget eatery that I've opened for the sake of the workers will be transformed into a blade that's aimed at me, thanks to the very same workers. That night, I sit in the apartment that my dad has left to me before his death. There, I spend the whole night smoking. Early the next morning, I head over to the bank and withdraw the money left behind by my dad, which is 260 million dollars. Half a month later, my eatery is open for business again. Work resumes at the construction site as well. Yves leads the construction workers to the restaurant at lunch. "I've taught him a good lesson last time. This time, I'm very sure that he won't have the guts to serve us cheap food made of shitty ingredients!" What he doesn't know is that the original eatery is already demolished. In its place stands a luxurious five-star restaurant. I stand in front of the main entrance as I perform a welcoming gesture to the workers. "This is a five-star restaurant that offers a private dining experience to you. The minimum bill for each table is 4000 dollars. You're welcome to dine here."

My girlfriend found out that my water bottle cost $30,000. She then demanded I buy her father an $8 million luxury apartment in the city center. I politely refused. She said furiously, “Don’t be so stingy! He’ll be your father-in-law someday. What’s wrong with getting a head start on being a good son-in-law?” She even compiled all of our expenses during our relationship into a PowerPoint presentation and demanded we split everything. “If splitting everything equally is too much trouble for you, then just cover it all. You can afford it! “My family and I have already discussed it. I’ll give you a one-dollar gift. It means you're my only one. How perfect is that?” When she noticed I was silent, she played her final card. “If you can’t agree, then let’s forget about getting married. “You’ll never see me, your darling baby, ever again!” I looked at the detailed list of expenses on the screen. It even included $2 she had spent on a bus ride to see me. I smiled and said, “Sure. I’ll give you a $143-million gift, with more romantic meaning. And I’ll buy that apartment for your father right now.”

After I bought my new home outright, my relatives organized a housewarming party to celebrate. During dinner, my nephew Leo suddenly said, “You’re just a spinster living alone in a huge apartment. What do you need all that space for? I happen to be getting married soon. That’s a huge deal. You should transfer the place to me. I’ll even cover the transfer fee.” I was stunned. “Are you out of your mind?” His mother Linda said, “How can you be so ungrateful? Him using your place for his newlywed life is doing you a favor. It’ll bring you good luck! Other people would jump at the chance!” The son and mother were united against me. “Anyway, tomorrow’s a great day. Grab the property deed and come with us to transfer ownership!” I rejected them without hesitation and called them crazy. Who knew they would get so furious that they would storm into my brand-new apartment and go on a rampage, smashing everything in sight. They even said smugly, “We need to show you our family doesn’t get pushed around! Go ahead and call the police! What proof do you even have that it was us?” What they did not know was that I had installed surveillance cameras on the day I moved in.

I'd barely been welcomed back into the inner circle when the fake heir tried to pull me into his little crew. The other rich kids, of course, couldn't resist messing with me. They pushed me to smoke and drink, treating me like some obedient stooge. I was pissed—steam practically coming out of my ears. He, meanwhile, put on this innocent act and said, "Hey, go easy on my brother. He just moved back from the middle of nowhere and doesn't know how things work around here. I'll take this one for him." Everyone ate up his "loyalty," and just like that, my reputation as some clueless hick was sealed. That day, he was set on dragging me to another rich-kid party. I was about to put my foot down when, out of nowhere, the steward from one of the capital's old-money families showed up at our door. He said it was a special order from the lady's father—an extravagant gift. My parents' faces lit up instantly. They clapped the fake heir on the shoulder, practically glowing with pride. "Ryan, you've made us proud! Looks like Sophia's family is more than pleased with you. This engagement—well, it's as good as done!" Ryan straightened his tie with practiced charm, shooting me a smug, taunting look. But when I glanced at the label on the gift box, I couldn't help but laugh. Every new hire at Harrington Group gets the same welcome package. If the Chairman of Harrington Group knew someone was mistaking it for an engagement gift for his daughter, he'd be furious enough to lose sleep.

After my best buddy, Jack Hughes, certified my 20th girlfriend as 'another gold digger', I finally agreed to an arranged marriage to the wealthy heiress Cyndi White. My family was delighted. Later, at a gathering with friends, Jack snatched Cyndi’s half-eaten cake and said like he was her real husband, "Cyndi, this cake is too sweet. Eating too much won't be good for you. I'll eat it for you." I stopped him, but he did not just think he was in the right. He even let his guard down and said, "I was just testing your wife's character. Why all the fuss? We've been bros for over a decade. Do you think I've got my eye on your wife?" If it were in the past, I might have believed him. However, I had been reborn. I grabbed the cake from the table and slammed it into his face. "What kind of character do you have, testing other people's character like that? You're just my late driver's son! Why are you pretending to be some wealthy heir? I bet you've not only got your eye on my wife, but you've already planned how to get into her bed!"

What a small world. As Elaine Johnson was checking in at the hotel front desk, she happened to bump into Jasper Carter's young mistress —a girl who looked like an innocent college student. She was dressed in a simple white cotton dress, pure and demure, with a shy, sweet smile. "Hello, here's your room key. You'll be staying in the executive suite on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Thank you, miss," the girl replied softly, taking the key. Just then, her phone rang. Elaine overheard her speaking bashfully to the person on the other end: "Mr. Carter, I... I'm already here. When will you be coming?" Her tone was soft, a little nervous, filled with affectionate anticipation. A moment later, Elaine heard her add, "Mhm, I'll wait for you. No rush. Please drive carefully, Mr. Carter." The girl's voice was so sweet and tender, it could have melted anyone's heart. Elaine could not help thinking that her husband had good taste — the girl was young and beautiful, gentle and thoughtful, the kind of woman any man would find hard to resist.

The housekeeper deliberately reveals her busty chest when I'm out of the house. She says coquettishly to my husband, "Oh, my. This is an accident, Mr. Houston …" My husband looks like he's focusing on his drink, but he keeps sneaking looks at her. I see all of this from the housekeeper's livestream.

I had not asked my mother for money in three months. She thought I had finally learned to be a good, obedient son and, in a rare act of mercy, sent me a message. "I already had Calvin pay the registration fee. Learn to be more sensible from now on. Stop thinking about scamming money from the family. "I know your dad is having a hard time right now, but since you chose to stay with me, you need to be on the same side as me." When she said this, she did not yet know that I had already transferred my in-state residency out. No one believed that I, Miles Hart, who appeared on the surface to be the young master of a wealthy family, had a closet filled entirely with clothes bought before my parents’ divorce. For three full years, there was not a single new piece of clothing. Every dollar I spent privately had to be submitted through an internal approval system, with a written application and justification. Even fees for school activities required screenshots of official notices and formal quotations. All expenses had to pass the review of my stepfather, Calvin Pierce. Just because my mother constantly suspected I was siding with my father and was afraid I would secretly funnel money to him. A month ago, I needed $500 for a math competition registration fee. Calvin rejected the request again and again. "There isn't enough justification. "Why do you have to participate in this competition? "Wait until the end of the month for unified approval." By the time approval finally came through, the registration window had already closed. Mom did not know that I had endured these three years for only one reason: an in-state residency, which would make college admissions easier. Now, I was officially recommended for admission to a top university. This family was no longer a place I needed to stay in.

After my son’s surgery, I stayed overnight at the hospital. While keeping watch, I scrolled through my phone and came across a post. [What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?] An anonymous user replied. [I used the senior who sponsored me as a stepping stone.] [My sponsor was rich and clueless. He paid for my entire college education, and after I graduated, I slept with his wife. She even had my child.] [The best part is that he treats my son like his own. He works himself to exhaustion just to set that kid up for life.] [By the way, his family just received three million from the relocation compensation. My lover will be here soon. She’ll pretend we need it for a school district apartment and trick him into giving it to us.] [Once the cash is in hand and the villa is bought, I’ll have my son acknowledge me as his real father and then throw my sponsor out of the house.] A blurry photo of a little boy was attached. My heart skipped a beat. On his wrist was the safety charm I had given my son. Just then, my wife pushed open the hospital room door. “Honey, Xeno is starting elementary school soon. Let’s take your mom’s compensation money from the relocation and use it to buy a place in a good school district.”

I lucked out, securing a guaranteed admission spot at Westbridge University—the one the real heiress throws away. Nicole Stewart drops out for love and runs off with the school's bully, shattering what should've been her perfect life. Meanwhile, I'm branded a thief, accused of stealing her place. However, I fight my way up to become a powerhouse in business and even marry her childhood sweetheart, Spencer Lowe. Yet, at the peak of it all, I open my eyes to find myself back to graduation day of senior year, right when I'm filling out my choices of colleges. A live barrage of comments flashes before my eyes. "That fake heiress, Gloria Stewart, is nothing but a thief. She stole Nicole's life!" "In her last life, Nicole actually dropped out of school to start a business with some school bully. She even gave her childhood sweetheart, who was her fiance, to someone else! Ugh, she's so stupid and pathetic." "Good thing Nicole gets a second chance. This time, the real heiress has awakened, so let's just see how miserable that fake heiress who stole her life becomes!" I just smile at the scrolling insults. Sorry, but I carve my own path. Nicole can be reborn a hundred times, and she still can't stop me from rising to the top.