Born to Be Wealthy

The Mask Falls

The mocking voice that had pierced the cheerful gathering belonged to none other than Edward Snowden—the young heir of the Snowden family. The Snowdens were the overseers of Lotus House Paradise, the residential complex Nathan and Aunt Dasy had just moved into. It was no surprise that Edward strutted around the area as if he owned it; in his mind, he did.

Edward’s eyes gleamed with arrogance as he stepped closer, his tone dripping with disdain. “Why do you all fawn over this poor boy? Shouldn’t you admire me instead—the one who actually has wealth?” His gaze swept over Nathan, lingering on the battered scooter parked outside. “Look at him. He owns nothing but a rusty scooter. Meanwhile, I drive an Audi A6.”

The neighbors exchanged uneasy glances. One of them, a kindly middle-aged man, spoke up. “Young Master Snowden, we’re simply welcoming our new neighbors. They’re polite, respectful, and kind.”

Edward cut him off with a sneer. “I am the heir of the Snowden family. He’s just some nobody who moved here. For all we know, he lived under a bridge before coming here.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. A woman scolded him gently, “Young Master, that’s cruel. Don’t insult them like that.”

Edward’s face flushed red with anger. “I am the son of the owner of this complex. If any of you dare cross me, I’ll have my father evict you. Remember that.”

One of the neighbors muttered under his breath, “Spoiled brat. Always running to his father. Just last week, he had a family thrown out because they accidentally brushed against him.”

Nathan, listening quietly, shook his head. He had endured insults before, but Edward’s arrogance was suffocating.

Edward jabbed a finger toward Nathan’s house. “If you don’t leave soon, I’ll make sure you’re gone.” With that, he stormed off, his Audi’s engine roaring as he sped away.

The neighbors, unsettled, quickly excused themselves. “Mr. William, thank you for greeting us. We should go.”

Nathan tried to stop them. “Please, stay. Aunt Dasy can make tea.”

But they shook their heads nervously. “We’re afraid Young Master Snowden will see us here. Forgive us.”

Nathan sighed. “Thank you for visiting. I’m sorry we couldn’t host you properly.”

They smiled kindly. “No need. Meeting you was enough.” Then they dispersed, leaving Nathan and Aunt Dasy alone.

Nathan’s mind churned. Edward’s words had cut deep, not because of the insult itself, but because of the arrogance behind it. He remembered his father’s warning about the Snowdens—wealthy, but second-class among the elite. They managed Lotus House Paradise, but the property ultimately belonged to Willems Group.

Nathan mounted his scooter, preparing to head to Willems Group headquarters. He dialed Dylan’s number, scribbled earlier on a scrap of paper.

“Dylan,” Nathan said sharply, “send me everything you have on the Snowden family. I want it in five minutes.”

“Yes, Young Master. I’ll find it immediately.”

As Nathan rode through the city streets, his phone buzzed. Dylan’s voice came through. “The Snowdens are considered second-tier among the wealthy. Their business is managing Lotus House Paradise, but they don’t own it. It’s part of Willems Group. Their heir is Edward Snowden.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. “I’ve heard they abuse their power—evicting families for trivial reasons. And Edward… he’s insufferably arrogant.”

Dylan hesitated. “Did Edward insult you, Young Master?”

Nathan’s voice was cold. “Yes. He mocked me and the neighbors. I want the Snowden family to face consequences. Do you understand?”

“I understand perfectly,” Dylan replied.

“Good. Make it happen.”

Nathan arrived at Willems Group headquarters, his scooter rattling to a stop in front of the towering glass building. He straightened his shirt and walked toward the entrance.

Immediately, a security chief blocked his path. “Excuse me, sir. Do you have business here?”

“Yes,” Nathan replied calmly. “I’m here to meet Miss Stone.”

The guard’s eyes flicked over Nathan’s plain clothes, his worn shoes. Disdain curled his lips. “Do you have an appointment? Miss Stone only meets important clients. Today she’s expecting the new director.”

Nathan frowned. “Appointment? What do you mean?”

The guard chuckled cruelly. “This is Willems Group. You don’t belong here. Leave, or I’ll have my men throw you out.”

Nathan’s patience thinned. “Do you judge people solely by their clothes?”

“Of course,” the guard sneered. “Your outfit looks like it cost twenty dollars. You’re poor. You don’t belong here.”

“So because I look poor, I can’t meet Miss Stone?” Nathan asked.

“Exactly. Willems Group is for the elite. Not for peasants riding rusty scooters.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Who made that rule?”

“I did,” the guard boasted. “That’s why I earn fifty thousand dollars a month. Unlike you, loser.” He laughed, pointing at Nathan’s scooter. “That junk should be in a scrapyard.”

Nathan’s voice was icy. “Who pays you that salary?”

“My manager, of course. Manager Han.”

The guard dialed his superior. “Manager Han, there’s trouble. Come deal with this man.”

Nathan quietly messaged Dylan: Does Miss Stone have my number? If so, send it to me. His old phone couldn’t store contacts, so he scribbled numbers manually.

The guard noticed and mocked him. “Look at that phone. Ancient junk. Only a pauper would still use it.”

Moments later, Manager Han arrived, dressed in a sharp suit. He looked Nathan up and down, sneering. “This is the troublemaker? He looks like a farmer. Probably here to beg for money.”

The guard added, “He claims he wants to meet Miss Stone.”

Han laughed. “Ridiculous. Miss Stone is waiting for the new director. And you? You’re nothing. Leave before you embarrass yourself.”

Nathan’s patience snapped. “You’re the ones embarrassing yourselves.”

Han’s face darkened. “Careful. I’ll call my men to throw you out.”

Nathan smirked. “Do it. And when you lose your job, remember this moment.”

Han barked orders. “Guards! Throw him out!” Two burly men stepped forward.

Before they could touch him, Nathan dialed Miss Stone. “Hello, Miss Stone? I’m downstairs. Your staff are blocking me. Two fools who don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

Her voice was urgent. “What? Forgive me, Young Master. I didn’t realize you’d arrived. I’ll come down immediately.”

Nathan hung up. Han scoffed. “Pretending to call Miss Stone? Clever trick. But it won’t save you.”

“Watch,” Nathan said coolly.

Moments later, a woman in a tailored suit rushed out of the building. Selena Stone—graceful, poised, yet fierce.

Han bowed quickly. “Miss Stone, forgive us. We were dealing with a troublemaker—”

SLAP!

Her hand cracked across his face. The sound echoed. Han staggered, stunned.

“What was that for?” he stammered.

Selena’s eyes blazed. “Are you blind, you fool?”

Han tried to recover. “Surely there’s a misunderstanding—”

“Misunderstanding?” she snapped. “Do you know who you just insulted?”

Han scoffed weakly. “He’s just a farmer, isn’t he?”

SLAP! Another strike, harder than the first.

“You i***t!” Selena shouted. “He is the new director—Young Master Nathan William, twin brother of the late Mac William.”

The words hit like thunder. Han and the guard froze, their faces draining of color. Their arrogance crumbled into terror.