Rise Of The Ill-treated Michael Wayne

THE HEIR

In a moment of uncertainty, Charles reassured Michael, "Relax, Michael Wayne. Meeting Mr. Gareth Winchester will clear things up."

"He has the answers to all these questions you've asked. He wants to see you," Charles said to him with a calm smile on his face.

Caught between nervousness and curiosity, Michael hesitated. 

"Sir, look at me. I can't meet someone important in these clothes."

Michael glanced down at himself, seeing how bad he looked in the ragged clothes he wore. 

The clothes were washed, but it didn't look presentable to him. 

Charles waved it off, saying, "Don't worry about how those clothes look on you anymore. It's just a temporary, only a matter of time and everything will change so quickly."

"What do you mean everything will change? I just lost two of my jobs, and I have no other source of income to get new clothes for now," Micheal murmured.

Mr. Charles only smiled to whatever he said. Although he didn't explain that which was behind his smile. 

"Just come with me, boy. A word with Gareth Winchester will solve everything," Charles said and Micheal's brows drew together.

As they hopped into the fancy black car, Michael mulled over Charles' mysterious words. The ride to their destination unfolded quietly, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts.

At the grand mansion, Michael was awestruck. It looked like a castle built on the clouds.

"Is this place even real? Are we still on earth? Wow!" Micheal mumbled, his eyes roaming the fantastic features of the Multimillion dollar mansion through the car glass.

"Oh, Micheal, you're so funny. Of course, it is real, and this isn't heaven yet," Mr. Charles chuckled.

Charles, sensing his hesitation, nudged him, "Don't let your appearance stress you; it's only for a little while that you're going to look this way."

Micheal tried to understand Mr. Charles' statement but he couldn't.

The car glided to a stop in front of the extravagant entrance of the mansion. As Michael stepped out, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight.

"In you go, Michael," Charles gestured toward the imposing entrance, an encouraging smile on his face.

Michael hesitated, his eyes scanning the luxurious surroundings.

"I still can't believe all of this is happening, I'm getting to meet the richest man in the country," he muttered to himself.

Charles assured him, "Believe it, Michael. Today is a turning point for you."

They entered the mansion, and Michael was immediately greeted by the breathtaking interior, and his eyes widened in awe. 

Two impeccably dressed ladies hurried towards him, each linking their arms with his. Their sky-blue gowns and badges hinted at their role as household staff.

"Welcome, Mr. Wayne," one of them chimed, her voice a melody of hospitality.

"We're at your service," the other added, their faces beaming with warmth.

Their barrage of questions overwhelmed him. 

"What would you like to eat, sir? A manicure and pedicure, perhaps? A change of clothes, or maybe a short nap? We can arrange some entertainment for you as well."

Michael, bewildered by such attention, stammered, 

"I...I don't know. I've never been asked these things before."

Mr. Charles chuckled, "Take your time, Michael. They're here to ensure you're comfortable."

As the staff continued their inquiries, Michael turned to Charles, seeking an explanation.

"What's going on here?"

Charles grinned, "You're about to experience a lifestyle you never thought possible. Enjoy it, Michael."

"What do you mean, Mr. Charles?" 

"It is not in my position to answer that question. That is why you are here, to meet Mr. Gareth Winchester himself," Mr. Charles said.

Micheal nodded.

The ladies took Micheal through ornate corridors, their every step echoing luxury. Michael couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this world of extraordinary wealth.

Once they reached a spacious room, the ladies insisted he sit.

"We'll take care of everything, Mr. Wayne. Just relax," they assured.

Alone in the lavishly decorated room, Michael felt like a prince, even as he was still conscious of his bad clothes.

He couldn't fathom why he, a struggling university student, found himself in such a place.

Just as confusion threatened to engulf him, Charles entered the room.

"Feeling overwhelmed, Michael?"

"I don't understand any of this. Why am I here?" Michael confessed, his voice filled with uncertainty.

"Mr. Gareth Winchester, the owner of this mansion, has taken an interest in you. He sees potential in you, Michael."

"Potential? In me?" Michael's disbelief resonated.

"Yes, and he wants to offer you an opportunity. But first, we need to ensure you're at ease."

As Charles spoke, the ladies returned, offering Michael refreshments and ensuring his comfort. Their attention to detail was astounding, and Michael couldn't shake the feeling of being in a dream.

The door creaked open, and Charles announced, "Mr. Gareth Winchester will be back later this evening. Until then, enjoy the hospitality, Michael Wayne."

The ladies continued to pamper him, and he found himself torn between gratitude and bewilderment.

* * * * * * *

"Wake up, Michael," the soft voice in Micheal's head echoed, pulling him from his deep slumber. 

He found himself lying on a luxurious bed that felt like a cloud, accompanied by the gentle touch of two beautiful ladies massaging him.

Glancing at his phone screen, Michael was surprised to see it was already 6:00 pm. 

"It's evening..." It registered in his head.

Before he could attempt to put on his shirt, the door creaked open, revealing Mr. Charles.

"Mr. Winchester is back," Mr. Charles announced, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. 

"He wants to see you, now."

"Alright," Michael responded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"Just give me a moment to put on my t-shirt."

"No need for that," Mr. Charles interrupted.

"Mr. Winchester is already here."

As Mr. Winchester walked into the room, Michael's eyes widened in awe.

The all-time richest billionaire of the country stood before him, and nervousness gripped Michael. 

Before he could offer a greeting, he stammered and stuttered, drawing laughter from Mr. Winchester.

Mr. Winchester, with a briefcase in hand, began by acknowledging the urgency of his schedule.

"I have another meeting to attend shortly, so I'll be brief," he explained.

"My secretary forwarded me a viral video, a recommendation for my new project focused on aiding the less privileged."

Intrigued, Michael listened attentively as Mr. Winchester continued, "The video showcased you enduring harsh conditions imposed by your college mates, including being pushed into mud water and subjected to insults for your financial status."

Expressing genuine concern, Mr. Winchester revealed, "Watching that video pained me. No one should go through such hardships, especially for circumstances beyond their control. I've decided to help you rise out of poverty."

The billionaire then disclosed his plan, saying, "I want to support you with $500,000 to start your own business. Consider it an investment in your future, Michael."

Michael's eyes widened in disbelief, frozen by the staggering sum Mr. Winchester had mentioned.

Overwhelmed, he felt a wave of dizziness. With less than $50 in his account, the idea of $500,000 seemed almost unfathomable.

Stumbling to his feet, Michael approached Mr. Winchester, gratitude filling his eyes. Without waiting for words, Mr. Winchester smiled and reassured him, "You don't have to say anything."

Instructing Michael to grab his shirt, Mr. Winchester added, "Follow me to my car; I have something for you."

As Michael turned around to grab his shirt from the bed, exposing his back, Mr. Winchester's eyes narrowed at the birthmark close to Michael's right shoulder. 

Stammering, Mr. Winchester questioned Michael about the mark, shock gripping him as memories of a dark past flooded his mind. He gripped his chest, trying to process the unexpected sight.

"Michael, where did you get that mark?" Mr. Winchester asked, his voice betraying a mix of urgency and uncertainty.

Michael, sensing the tension, replied, "In the orphanage where I grew up, they told me I shared it with my mother."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Mr. Winchester struggled to absorb this information. 

His eyes, once stern, now reflected a turbulent storm of emotions. His breath caught, and he hesitated before speaking, "Mary..."

Michael, puzzled by the reaction, questioned, "Do you know her? Mary? I was told that was my mother's name."

Tears welled up in Mr. Winchester's eyes, and he nodded.

"Yes, Mary... That's the name of someone very important from my past."

Unable to contain his emotions, Mr. Winchester continued, his voice breaking with a mixture of sorrow and astonishment, "She had a son, and they disappeared years ago. I've been searching for them ever since."

Michael, astonished, replied, "I never knew my mother. Could she be the one you're looking for?"

In a heart-wrenching revelation, Mr. Winchester spilled the painful truth to Michael.

"They lied, Michael. That birthmark isn't from Mary; it's your father's," he confessed, his voice heavy with sorrow.

Perplexed, Michael responded, "But I don't know anything about my father. The orphanage never mentioned him."

In a sudden surge of realization, Mr. Winchester swiftly shrugged off his coat, revealing the same mark on Michael's back mirrored on his chest. Both Mr. Charles and Michael stood frozen, gripped by the intense moment.

Micheal pointed at the birthmark on Mr. Winchester's chest, unable to speak out of shock.

"H-How do you have that—" 

Micheal stammered halfway...

"You—you're my son, Michael. The son I've been desperately searching for for 24 years," Mr. Winchester declared, his voice quivering with a mixture of disbelief and elation.