Born to Be Wealthy

Shadows of Consequence

Nathan left Willems Group with his mind buzzing, his thoughts tangled like threads in a storm. The grandeur of the company, the sheer scale of its operations, had overwhelmed him. Towering glass walls, endless corridors filled with executives, the hum of power vibrating through every floor—it was dazzling, intoxicating. Yet beneath the awe, there was unease. He was now the heir, the director, the hidden young master. But inside, he still felt like the boy who once rode a battered scooter through the streets, selling cakes to survive.

Selena Stone walked him to the exit, her voice gentle, almost protective. “Director, shall I escort you home?”

Nathan waved his hand dismissively, though his tone carried warmth. “No need. I’ll take a taxi. If you truly want to help me, find a safe place to store my uncle’s scooter. It’s precious to me.”

Selena nodded, her eyes soft with understanding. “Consider it done.”

At home, Aunt Dasy greeted him with anxious eyes, her hands wringing the edge of her apron. “How was the company, Nathan?”

Nathan smiled faintly, though his mind was still spinning. “It’s impressive, Aunt. Enormous. Willems Group is beyond anything I imagined.”

Relief washed over her face, her shoulders relaxing. “Of course. Willems Group is the largest enterprise in Beethoven Hills.”

Beethoven Hills lay just beyond Reymore Vile, a hub of wealth and influence. Willems Group was one of the crown jewels of the William family empire, generating staggering profits. Nathan now held a black platinum card with a balance of one hundred billion dollars—an amount so vast that even second-tier directors could never dream of earning it in a lifetime.

The William family’s reach extended across the nation, their companies scattered like constellations. In Beethoven Hills, Willems Group reigned supreme. In Reymore Vile, the family’s main headquarters commanded respect. The Williams were the most influential family in the land, admired and feared alike. Yet whispers persisted: why did they hide their young master from the public eye?

The following day, Nathan prepared to leave for his old office. He had forgotten that his uncle’s scooter was ruined. As he stepped outside, Aunt Dasy appeared, her voice tinged with sorrow. “Nathan, where is your uncle’s scooter?”

Nathan froze, then forced a calm reply. “It was struck yesterday at the company. I’ve stored it somewhere safe.”

Her eyes dimmed, sadness pooling in them. “Who would do such a cruel thing?”

Nathan’s jaw tightened, his voice firm. “Don’t worry. He’s already received his karma.”

He kissed her hand gently. “I’m heading to work now.”

She frowned, confusion etched across her face. “Work? But aren’t you a director now?”

Nathan chuckled softly, his smile tinged with melancholy. “Yes, but I must keep my identity hidden. Besides, Selena is there to handle things.”

“Be careful. How will you get there?”

“I’ll take a taxi.”

Outside, the neighborhood buzzed with gossip. Groups of residents huddled together, their voices hushed yet urgent.

“I can’t believe it,” one man whispered. “The Snowden family went bankrupt overnight.”

Another replied, “It’s true. Who did they offend to bring such wrath upon themselves?”

“They deserved it,” a woman interjected. “Their arrogance, their cruelty—it was only a matter of time.”

A middle-aged lady added, “I heard Willems Group has taken over this complex. Perhaps the Snowdens angered someone high up.”

Nathan listened quietly, his face unreadable. He knew the truth. Edward Snowden’s arrogance had collided with his own destiny, and the consequences had been swift.

Nathan arrived at his old workplace, only to find chaos. The building was in disarray, employees milling about with boxes in hand, faces twisted with anger and despair.

Mass layoffs had struck. Contracts had been severed. The company was collapsing.

“This is all because of the manager’s daughter!” one employee shouted. “That scandalous video spread across the province, and every contract was revoked!”

Nathan’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t anticipated the ripple effect of his actions. What he thought was a small act of defiance had ignited a storm.

Suddenly, a finger pointed at him. “There! That’s the one who posted the video! He ruined us!”

Dozens of eyes turned, burning with fury.

“It’s him! That loser! Not just a loser—he destroyed our future! Get him!”

The mob surged forward.

Nathan’s instincts screamed. He bolted, weaving through the crowd. Heavy hands grabbed at him, pulling him back. A group of burly men swung fists, but Nathan ducked, countered, and broke free. His karate training gave him an edge, but the numbers were overwhelming.

He sprinted, lungs burning, heart pounding. The mob chased him relentlessly, weapons in hand—sticks, stones, pitchforks, knives. Nathan’s courage faltered. He could fight one, maybe two, but dozens armed with rage and steel? It was suicide.

He stumbled into an empty parking lot, chest heaving. Desperation clawed at him. He pulled out his phone, dialing Dylan with trembling fingers.

“Ha… hello, Dylan! Help… help me!” His voice cracked, breath ragged.

Dylan’s tone sharpened instantly. “Where are you, Young Master?”

“I’m… I’m at the empty lot near my old office. Hurry! They’re chasing me—dozens of them!”

“Hold on. Five minutes.”

Nathan collapsed against a wall, sweat dripping down his face. Fear gnawed at him. He was strong, yes, but he was human. And humans bleed.

The mob drew closer, their shouts echoing like a war cry. Nathan’s pulse raced. He braced himself for the worst.

Then—engines roared. Sleek black Bentleys screeched to a halt at the edge of the lot. Doors flew open, and men in suits poured out—elite guards, trained like soldiers, their movements precise and lethal.

They descended upon the mob like a storm. Blows landed with brutal efficiency. The attackers faltered, stumbling back under the sheer force of professional combat. Within minutes, the mob was scattered, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground.

Nathan sagged in relief, his body trembling.

Dylan rushed to his side, eyes wide with alarm. “Young Master! Are you alright? Forgive me—I was late.”

Nathan’s vision blurred. Exhaustion overwhelmed him. He collapsed, nearly unconscious.

Dylan barked orders. “You fools! Carry him! Take him to the William estate immediately. Call the best doctor. Now!”

“Yes, sir!” The guards lifted Nathan gently, placing him into the Bentley.

The estate loomed like a fortress of wealth, its gates opening to reveal manicured gardens and towering halls. Nathan was carried into a lavish bedroom, its silk sheets and golden drapes a stark contrast to his battered state.

His parents rushed in, panic etched across their faces.

“What happened, Dylan?” David William demanded, his voice trembling with fury and fear.

Dylan bowed, his voice grave. “Young Master was chased by a mob. They sought to kill him, blaming him for their dismissal. They accused him of posting the scandalous video of the manager’s daughter. He was nearly beaten to death.”

Hilda William gasped, clutching her chest, tears brimming in her eyes.

Dylan continued, his tone firm. “But he is not guilty. He was insulted, provoked. He found the flash drive by chance. He uploaded the video without realizing the consequences. The blame lies with those who mocked him, not with him.”

David’s face darkened, his fists clenching. “He didn’t know it would spread so far. He didn’t know it would destroy lives.”

Silence hung heavy, the weight of guilt pressing down on them all. Then David barked, “Call Doctor Sykes! Immediately!”

Doctor Sykes had served the William family for twenty-five years. His hair was silver, his back bent, his steps supported by a cane. Yet his eyes remained sharp, his hands steady.