I've Become Rich And I Want Revenge

09. Poor little rich boy

Two days after the incident with Brittany, Leon felt something change in the world.

A kind of strangeness took hold of his heart; what many would call an ill-feeling.

He no longer believed in such things, however. After all, the boy had seen with his own eyes that nonsense like that meant nothing. Money was the only thing that mattered.

But the strange feeling didn't go away when, discreetly and subtly, his ex-girlfriend and now servant handed him a letter.

"You've only just arrived, sir," she murmured, looking down.

Without even glancing at her, Leon tore open the envelope and read the contents of the letter.

"Dismissed, Brittany."

The girl went off to find something to do while the man continued to read the invitation.

For that was what the letter contained: a formal request for him to attend a business event of a company that rivaled him in financial terms.

A trap? Or a desperate way to make them prosper as much as his own company?

Leon stood up. Those old bastards might like things that way, but he didn't have to submit to it.

So he turned on his computer and wrote them an e-mail.

.............................................................................

There were more than thirty people gathered, all older and all more insufferable than the rich people Leon had had the displeasure of meeting.

The meeting place was elegantly decorated, with sparkling chandeliers and tables covered in immaculate linen tablecloths. People murmured among themselves as they waited for the event to begin. 

Leon walked through the hall, ignoring disapproving glances and discreet whispers. He held his chin high, his face carefully arranged in an indecipherable expression.

The host of the event, an elderly man with gray hair, approached Leon with a fake smile.

"Leon, what a surprise to have you here. I hope you enjoy the event," said the man with a hint of irony.

The young man tilted his head to one side and replied in the same ironic tone:

"You can be sure I'll enjoy every second of it, dear sir."

The old man laughed, a laugh that echoed through the room like a silent challenge. Leon felt the penetrating stares of the other participants, all curious to see how he would react.

During the initial presentation, he noticed that the atmosphere was imbued with something he didn't quite understand. The event was a front for something bigger, something he still couldn't decipher.

The conversations were full of veiled insinuations, and the smiles were sharp as razors. Meanwhile, Leon remained impassive, responding courteously when necessary, but always with a hint of disdain.

As the night wore on, the tension grew. Leon began to feel the siege closing in, as if every word spoken was planned to hit him. It was a dangerous dance, but he showed no weakness.

It was then that the gray-haired man, the host, proposed a toast in honor of the future of business. 

Leon raised his glass, carefully observing every face around him. 

Hostility. 

However, the tension reached its peak when the host, with a mischievous smile, proposed a game. A game that was clearly intended to humiliate Leon in front of everyone present.

"We're going to test everyone's skills. Whoever manages to answer a series of business questions correctly will have the opportunity to close an exclusive deal with us," said the man, casting a meaningful glance in the boy's direction.

Visibly embarrassed, Leon said nothing, but he noticed the whispers and disguised giggles.

Then he understood.

That invitation had never been something for him to be praised or even recognized by one of those old men, but rather something cruelly contrived to humiliate him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "But I think there's something going on here in this meeting, something I deeply dislike."

Some of the chuckles fell silent, but Leon didn't look away from the old man.

"Pardon me?" the man made a point of taking a sip from his glass of water, which had remained untouched until then.

"I don't think I should be here. My presence in this place is such a waste."

To Leon's enormous surprise, the old man laughed. He couldn't seem to contain himself in front of that scene.

"Indeed. But I thought you'd never notice with your own eyes how useless you are, boy."

The boy's cheeks burned with anger.

The host of the event continued:

"I have to admire your courage, though. Few are able to admit reality to themselves, let alone to others. I despise you, make no mistake. But still, I'm glad you managed to understand."

Leon went to the stage; a small elevation where there was a microphone and a band playing pleasant music. With a sharp gesture of his chin, the musicians stopped immediately.

"What do you think you're doing, you idiot?", one of the other businessmen shouted at him.

As soon as he was sure that everyone was watching him, Leon gave a little smile before starting:

"I don't think you understand what I mean, you fucking losers."

Protests and shouts erupted immediately. He ignored them.

"It's a waste for me to be here in this place, at this event, which is obviously full of beginners and incompetents who obviously don't understand what's right in front of them. A boy, you say, who was born in a poor cradle and is not on your level. How silly."

The shouts died down to a murmur.

"Do you know what the greatest truth of all is? It's that the poor kid here has as much power or more than you. Don't think you're above my eyes. I just turned eighteen, and for the next five years, you idiots will have to pay tolls to continue existing in the city that will be MINE!"

He pointed at the host of the event, who was impassive:

"And you'll be the first to see your own empire crumble. Measure your words when you speak to me and of me."

Then, after giving the middle finger to everyone present, Leon dropped the microphone on the floor and walked out.

No one followed him.

The boy was already near the last doors of the huge building when he heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him.