Mr. Nobody: Owns It All

Gigolo

The city lights blurred into streaks of neon as Shane-Leo wandered the streets, the sting of betrayal a constant dull ache in his chest. 

Sleep evaded him, the events of the previous night replaying on a relentless loop in his mind. 

Every harsh word, every cold glance, felt like a fresh wound.

One moment, anger flared, hot and raw, at Norah's betrayal. The next, a wave of despair washed over him, threatening to drown him in a sea of self-doubt.

The memory of his past, a stark contrast to his present reality, surfaced. At the age of eighteen, banished from his wealthy family.

He rested his head back and closed his eyes. Flashbacks from the day he left, flooding his mind.

The air crackled with nervous anticipation as 18-year-old Shane-Leo stood before his parents, Theodore and Eleanor Mirano. 

The grand mahogany study, adorned with portraits of stern-faced ancestors, felt suffocating despite the cool evening breeze wafting through the open windows.

"Shane-Leo," his father, Theodore, began, his voice a deep rumble. "You've reached the age of passage. The time has come for you to fulfil the Mirano family tradition."

A familiar knot of apprehension tightened in Shane-Leo's stomach. The family tradition, a cruel custom shrouded in secrecy, was the bane of every Mirano heir's existence. 

It mandated five years of exile, forced to fend for themselves with nothing but their wits and a small allowance.

Eleanor, her usually gentle eyes holding a flicker of sadness, reached out and squeezed his hand. 

"We are incredibly proud of you, Shane-Leo. You possess a keen mind and a strong spirit. These next five years will test you, but we have every confidence you'll succeed."

"Succeed in what?" Shane-Leo blurted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Why do I have to leave? Where will I even go?"

Theodore sighed, a hint of frustration flickering in his gaze. 

"The details are unimportant, Shane-Leo. The purpose of the exile is to build resilience, to understand the value of hard work and resourcefulness. It's a test of character, a rite of passage that every Mirano heir has endured."

Shane-Leo felt a surge of rebellion. To be cast out, to be forced to live like a commoner - it seemed barbaric. "But why? Can't I prove myself here?"

Eleanor knelt beside him, her touch a soothing balm on his simmering anger. "The world beyond these walls, Shane-Leo, is a harsh teacher. It will strip away privilege and force you to rely on your own strength. When you return, you'll be a stronger, more capable man, ready to take your rightful place as heir."

Looking into his mother's earnest eyes, Shane-Leo saw a flicker of something else - a hint of longing, a veiled understanding of the pain he was about to endure. Perhaps, he thought, they too had endured this cruel tradition.

Despite his reservations, a spark of determination ignited within him. He wouldn't let his family down. 

He would prove himself, not just to them, but to himself.

"Alright," he said, his voice firm. "I'll do it. But when I return, I expect to be treated with the respect I deserve."

Theodore smiled, a rare sight that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "That, my son, depends entirely on you." He clapped Shane-Leo on the shoulder, a gesture both formal and strangely paternal. "Now, pack your bags. You leave for your exile tomorrow."

The crisp autumn air swirled around as he stood on the cobblestone driveway, his gaze fixed on the imposing iron gates of his family's estate. A knot of apprehension tightened in his stomach. Today was the day he left.

His parents stood beside him, their faces etched with a mixture of pride and sadness. Eleanor, reached out and squeezed his hand. "Remember, Shane-Leo," she said, her voice soft, "this is just a test. A chance for you to prove your strength."

His father, a tall man with a firm jawline and a mane of silver hair, placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "We have faith in you, son. You've always been resourceful. You'll find your way."

Shane-Leo swallowed hard, forcing a smile. It wasn't easy leaving the only home he'd ever known, especially for the unknown that awaited him. 

"Five years," he muttered, the weight of the family tradition settling on him like a heavy cloak.

For generations, every Mirano heir had been exiled for five years at the age of eighteen. It was a harsh but necessary tradition, designed to test their resilience and resourcefulness, and also to ensure they valued the privileges they had. 

They would be stripped of their wealth and forced to build a life from scratch. Only upon their successful return would they be welcomed back and deemed worthy of inheriting the family legacy.

He looked back at the mansion, its grandeur a stark contrast to the plain backpack he carried. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked away, determined to prove himself worthy of the Mirano name.

The following years were a whirlwind. Shane-Leo, armed with his sharp mind and an unwavering determination, poured his heart and soul into building a company. 

He started small, offering his services as a consultant, his knowledge of business gleaned from years of listening to his father's conversations, proving invaluable.

His company, aptly named "Resilience," took off like a rocket. 

His innovative ideas and astute business sense attracted investors and clients alike. Within a year, Resilience was a top ten company in the city, a feat accomplished by a college student with nothing but borrowed office space and a dream.

He'd clawed his way back up, building a company from scratch, all while juggling college. But the family rules were unforgiving. 

The fruits of his labour remained out of reach. As per the family rule, all profits were channelled back to the Mirano estate, leaving him with just the necessary amount of money he needed to survive. It was a constant reminder of his exile, a bittersweet taste of success.

Despite the hardship, he found solace in a chance encounter at a local coffee shop. A young woman with bouncy red hair and eyes that sparkled with ambition caught his attention.

Norah.

 And she too harboured dreams of starting her own business. They bonded over shared aspirations, their conversations filled with ideas and plans for the future.

Love blossomed between them, and they eventually got married, bright light in his otherwise challenging life. When Shane-Leo graduated from college, his parents, to show their support in the alliance, gifted him a small, run-down house. 

But true to his nature, Shane-Leo saw a different opportunity. He sold the house, the only "gift" he'd received in five years, and gave Norah the money. 

Norah, initially shocked by his decision, was touched by his unwavering support. With his secret help, her company flourished. Within three years, it was ranked among the top hundred in the city. 

She was a ray of sunshine in his bleak world. 

Their love story had bloomed amidst shared struggles, a love that had promised forever. Now, the memory felt distant.

His phone buzzed, pulling him back to the present. He fished it out of his pocket, the familiar image of Blake's face on the screen. 

With a sigh, he answered.

"Master Shane-Leo," Blake's voice, crisp and formal as ever, filled his ears. "There's a grand celebration tonight. The official announcement of your return as the family heir." He paused, a tinge of happiness in his tone as he continued. “The family is expecting you and your wife.

"There's been a change, Blake," he said, his voice rough. "I'm divorced."

Silence hung heavy on the line for a moment. Then, Blake spoke, his voice laced with concern. "Oh dear, Master Shane-Leo. Are you alright?"

"I'll manage," Shane-Leo replied, his voice stronger than he felt. The truth was, he wasn't sure how he was managing, but anything was better than wallowing in self-pity.

"But the announcement… "

Shane-Leo hesitated. The idea of facing the family, of pretending he was fine, was daunting.

Yet, the thought of sitting alone in his misery was somehow worse. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off the gaping hole in his heart.

"Alright, Blake," he sighed. “I'll be there.” He hesitated before adding, 

“Send a driver to come pick me up.” 

"Alright young master," Blake replied, a hint of relief in his voice. "I'll make the necessary arrangements for your arrival."

Ten minutes later, the driver came to where he was and drove him to his Family’s Mansion. 

The familiar route to his family's mansion stretched before him, each turn etched with memories. He remembered the day he left; his trial having begun. 

He smiled, recalling nights spent dreaming of returning, and times when the fear of failure and uncertainties will gnaw at his insides. They were all over now. Except, Norah was missing.

The imposing iron gates of the Mirano estate swung open without a murmur, granting him access to the place he'd once called home. 

The grand foyer, bathed in the warm glow of crystal chandeliers, not much had changed, just a few renovations here and there.

Warmth flooded his heart as the memories came crashing, 

‘It’s crazy how time flies.’

The next day passed in a blur. Evening came and he had to force himself to be up to it. He was in no mood to party, he just lost his favorite person in the world, it felt so surreal.

His thoughts raced as he showered, the hot water failing to wash away the chill that had settled deep within him. He was really divorced; it had not been a bad dream.

He entered his closet, A stylist already waiting for him. Everything was already taken care of, he wished he could take pleasure from his present, but Norah’s words kept playi

ng in his mind.

‘A gigolo, really? That’s what she thought of me?’