'Hey, Mr Man! Don't come this way…a beggar is not allowed here!’ shouted a security man at Real Bank of London when Jones was approaching in his poor and humble dress. Jones didn't react as if he was being addressed.He entered the surroundings of the bank, moving towards the entrance. The security man yelled again, ‘Has your poor life deafened your ears? I said a beggar is not permitted to come here…’With confidence and calmness, he voiced out, ‘I am not a beggar, Mr Janitor! Mind your tongue; it is not every book you judge by its cover or do you know who I am?’‘Erm…No! But you look like a pauper in your unmatched dress; wearing a worn-out suit on jeans. This speaks of nothing about you but a homeless beggar.’‘You have to be very careful with your tongue, Mr Janitor, so that you will not be hanged by it. Anyway, I don't have time for gibberish.’ said Jones, trying to enter.‘Where do you think you are going?’ said the security man forcefully.‘I want to see someone inside.’ He ret

He nearly went mad for what he had seen; his sorrow and depression hid, and the pains he got from the robbers' punches and kicks departed him. He looked around to see if nobody had seen him, but he couldn't see anybody and the guy was out of sight. He repacked and tied the pieces of gold. He hid it under his jacket and staggered out of the place so that nobody would rob him again. Before it was morning, he had been gripped by hunger. The elation of the gold and the pains of his nice night visitors were fighting for dominance in his body. Splash!A splash of water landed on his head, and he shook his head in shock at one corner in front of a shop he sat and cuddled before, ‘Who is this again?’ that was the question left in his.‘Stand up, poor head. If you want to die, go and die at home, not at my shop.’ said the shop owner. He stood up looking embarrassed. He hesitated to go, but he faced the lady. ‘I’m sorry. Please can you help me with some dollars until I return?’'Return from wh

What a horrible message and a disgracing experience waking a man of pomp and prowess on his soft suiting bed and furnished mansion. Saying the night was good was a form of mockery for Jones. The tension of his being chased to be killed and the embarrassment given to him by Lana hung to his heart like a sword that was ready to pierce the conquered. Lana and her parents were pretending that nothing had happened to them though many had gone wrong. Being duped by the guy had affected them so much including Lana's business. They, her parents who owned their house before, had become tenants. But instead of learning from their fall, shamelessness made them look and behave more erroneously. Then, he was the right heir to his family, but some people didn't want that to happen. They want him killed. When he was like a beggar, nobody tracked him. Jones was puzzled.He was looking around the room of his mansion as if the building could hear and relieve him of his grief. The mansion was designed w

While Jones was winning the hearts of some members of the Mackin family, some members’ hearts were being shattered. After a tough discussion about Jones’ being the heir of the family and the challenge faced by Drake from Jones’ entourage, the family decided to give every member some days to think about it and come back to a conclusion. Jones was happy to rejoin the family, but Drake was also giving him a tough time. Drake decided to visit his father at the hospital and relay the situation on the ground.‘Jones has risen beyond our capabilities. But there is only one way to find his end…death!’ Said Bruno with a sickly and palpitating voice on his sick bed. Bruno had been crippled by the stroke. Except for everything that makes up his head to the neck and his left hand, his body was totally paralyzed. The doctor said he had eaten a toxic substance which was not detected exactly because it had been crushing him for a long time without notice. Bruno couldn't accuse anybody of his ailment

“Yes, Lana.” Jones answered as they came out to the cars.“That's the only temporary choice I have for now.”“Understood, master.”They waited for him to enter hIs Lamborghini. When he was about to close his car door, Lambo got a message from the Penultimate Investment Company (PIC).“Sir, Penultimate Investment Company has agreed to sell their company to us but…”“But what Lambo!” He frowned.“My apologies, Sir. It's the selling price that concerns… $1 billion, Sir.”“Hum! Do you think I can't pay that or what?”“Never will I say such. I just don't think Penultimate Investment Company is worthy of that price - my suggestion, master.”“Pay them now and make arrangements for their papers before the end of the day. Whether it is worthy of it or not, you shall see when we take over.”“As you please, Sir.”Lambo waved at others to enter and closed the Jones' door. They left Mackin’s mansions.***The news of the wealthy man who saved the Mackin family from the brink of shame and ordered