The Poorest Rich Man Novels & Stories

"Stop crying, you idiot, we're going to have to serve the crazy rich Richard Smith world soon." Her words just now managed to make me laugh out loud. However, when I realized the name Natty had mentioned, I was hit by reality again. I was slapped by the fact that my life had been really miserable. The fact that there was a family named Richard Smith who was nicknamed crazy rich, as well as a woman named Sara Smith who chose to live a miserable life with an asshole man for years, made me shed tears again with my chest feeling very tight.

If I was poor, I would have considered it as the only option because I want to make my mother comfortable but because I am made, I can't just accept it. They keep raising their shoulders high but I am comfortable already. Chris is indeed rich with his father's position but it can't be compared to Armando who has established a lot on his own without the help of anybody.

"Amara, I've been thinking a lot these past few days. I know I was wrong. "You know what my life was like before. My family was poor. I never understood what it meant to have money. When a poor man becomes rich overnight, he loses himself. That's how I ended up doing something so foolish that everyone turned against me."

“For five whole years, we lived under the same roof. We were husband and wife, and I know you better than anyone. For five years, I monitored every cent that entered your bank account.” A cruel smile appeared on his face. “And not once did your balance exceed fifteen hundred dollars. In fact, the only reason it ever reached that amount was because I was the one sending money to you.” Several people gasped. Richard folded his arms and looked at her with undisguised scorn. “You are poor, Bianca.” “You are broke. You are wretched.” Then he delivered the question everyone was waiting for. “So tell me... How does a woman as poor and miserable as you suddenly come up with one point five billion do

I joked. He didn't laugh. He just stared dead faced at me. “That was a joke,” I bit my lips as the awkward silence stretched. “Sorry.” “Darien Luxe is no joke, okay? He is the second richest man in the world. In the entire world. Can you even begin to fathom how much wealth that is?” “A lot?” His face contorted. “A whole lot?” I asked as if adding the word whole was supposed to change anything. To my surprise, he chuckled.

My husband, whom I had just met yesterday, was the richest man in America and the 8th richest in the world. What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

He had no one; no one to console him, no one to encourage him to man up and be strong. He was all alone, submerged in great pain, melancholy and heart ache and pitifully, he was wallowing in it all. It was unlike him. It was unlike the legendary Rowan Cannon, the first and youngest man to singlehandedly build an empire in his generation and also, the wealthiest, hottest and hunkiest young bachelor –no one knew he was married– in the society. He was every woman's fantasy, every woman's dream. He was not just who he was, he was not just the crème-de-la-crème in the high society. He was the society himself, the bluest of the blue, the second richest man on planet earth, right after a mid-sevent

He looks at me sadly. - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... - It's nothing, none of us had planned it. You come, let's eat! I said smiling to lighten the mood. Dinam and I go to the restaurant where we sit at the table where Dinam usually eats. It is a table that is reserved for him, surely because of the privilege he has of being the son of the big boss. So far I can't believe that Dinam has become so rich and famous. He is now one of the wealthiest men in our country and the rest of the continent. And to think that a year ago, he criss-crossed houses and restaurants to even get a job as a garbage collector. Truly, the wheel turns and this life is like a boomerang. Overnight, everyone can find t

The people, who were mostly farmers, owners of small lands, and small businesses, were amazed by this information. “Yeah, I'm so rich that, modesty aside, I'm considered one of the richest men in the entire world,” Jensen shrugged, looking at those people as if they were nothing but ants. “So if I want you to leave this shitty town, you will leave even if you don’t want to.”

I, on the other hand, turn to walk away wearing my worn down shoes that look older than me. As I dump my empty coffee cup into the bin, I listen to the sounds from Main Street. They drift down the dark alleyways to the forgotten backstreets I live on. The sounds are adrenaline pumping, dance-worthy beats that suggest the kind of life the more wealthy live. The poor demographic in this Pack is low, with every one person living in poverty, there are five wealthy. I just happen to be one of the few who don't have enough money to survive. I make it to my small apartment by the time the sun falls. It's a modest little thing I bought with the funds from father's death. The moment I am rich enough,