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The Slumdog Billionaire 69. A Fraudster or A Drug Dealer?
Chapter Sixty-NineHenry chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, love. I’m not hiding anything from you. Have you noticed how hard I’ve been working these past few days?I’ve been staying up late, making deals, and trying to get everything in order. I’ll tell you everything soon, I promise.” He paused, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Besides, you need this car for work, and I don’t. It’s my way of saying thank you for all your support.”Jasmine looked at him, her heart swelling. “Thank you for providing for us when I had nobody. You stood by me even when my family was against us. I’ll always be grateful.”As he spoke, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I know you’ve been working hard, Henry,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I believe you’ll be blessed with a good job and a better position in society.”“But I have a question, though,” she added, her brows furrowing slightly. “What will I do with the Mustang that Prince gave me? The one from Dubai?”Henry sighed,
The Slumdog Billionaire 70. New Business Deal
Chapter Seventy Henry’s brow furrowed as he watched Damon’s face twist in frustration. Damon was pacing, clutching his phone tightly, his voice taut with anger and panic.“What do you mean there’s nothing here? The shelves are empty!” Damon shouted, his voice trembling. “I put my heart and soul into this opening. I can’t believe this… There was supposed to be enough stock to fill this place.”Henry stepped closer, his hand resting on Damon’s shoulder, grounding him. “What happened, man?”Damon’s eyes were wide, desperate. “The truck carrying the meds? It got into an accident on the way here. Logistics completely failed. And now? I’ve got nothing to show. Nothing, Henry.” His voice cracked, his frustration laced with the sting of near-tears. “They’ll cut that ribbon, and there will be empty shelves behind it. It’s humiliating.”Henry could see the weight of this moment bearing down on his friend. Damon had put everything into this launch; failure wasn’t an option. He was a man who pr
The Slumdog Billionaire 71. F1 Racer Douchebag
Chapter Seventy One Damon and Henry sat together on the patio, chatting like old friends. Damon’s wife, Jasmine, moved through the small gathering, offering drinks and food with a warm smile. The evening was going smoothly—laughter, the gentle clinking of glasses, the warmth of friendship filling the air.Suddenly, the peace was shattered by the roar of an engine. A sleek sports car’s rumble grew louder, turning heads. The Ferrari Turbo skidded to a dramatic stop at the end of the driveway, its tires smoking slightly, the metallic red paint gleaming in the fading sunlight. All eyes turned to watch.Henry frowned, recognizing the theatrics. Damon sighed quietly, sharing a knowing look with Henry. “It’s Alexander, isn’t it?” Henry muttered.“It’s always Alexander,” Damon confirmed with a resigned nod.Alexander stepped out slowly, as if each movement was a carefully crafted show. He wore a crisp designer suit, sunglasses perched on his nose even though the sun was nearly gone. His ch
The Slumdog Billionaire 72. Pathetic Son In-law !
Chapter Seventy TwoAlexander smirked, leaning back with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Oh, I’m sure of this bet. For certain, I’m going to win. I’ve spent more on my car than you could dream of in ten lifetimes, Henry. This isn’t just any Ferrari—it’s got power that car of yours couldn’t even handle. I’ll enjoy watching you eat my dust.”Henry met Alexander’s gaze, unwavering. “Alright, then. I’ll race you. But on one condition.” He paused, allowing the murmurs of the small crowd to die down as Alexander raised an eyebrow, curious.“Condition? What, you planning to chicken out already?” Alexander taunted, his grin widening.Henry’s voice was calm, steady. “Whoever loses,” he said, “drives their car into the river at the end of the junction.”A hush fell over the gathering, and for a moment, Alexander’s grin faltered. His eyes darted to his Ferrari, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. He knew precisely how much his custom-built Ferrari cost. It was no ordinar
The Slumdog Billionaire 73. The Cheater Lost
Chapter Seventy Three Henry who is now used to people insulting himJust ignored Alexander as he focused on the road while ignoring the way Alexander still tried to cheat him by bringing out exhaust smoke to cover his vision. Henry’s Benz, while not as loud, accelerated with a smooth power, gaining speed quickly and steadily. The car felt stable beneath him, its wheels gripping the road confidently as he leaned forward, focused entirely on the path ahead. He didn’t need Alexander’s flash or noise; he needed precision, control. Every turn, every shift was deliberate.The air was thick with the smell of hot engines, fuel, and the faint metallic scent of the road as both cars tore through the street. Alexander’s Ferrari glistened under the streetlights, a red streak of fury slicing through the evening. He glanced at his rearview mirror, his smirk widening as he saw Henry’s Benz a few lengths behind.“Come on, Henry,” Alexander muttered to himself, a laugh bubbling in his chest. “Is
The Slumdog Billionaire 74. Faceslap
Chapter Seventy Four Alexander shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the crowd as he tried to come up with an excuse. “Look, I… I think I’ve got some kind of stomach pain,” he stammered, clutching his abdomen and faking a grimace. “That’s why I let Henry win. I didn’t want him to feel too bad, you know. Figured I’d give him a little pity victory.”The crowd, seeing through his weak excuse, began to murmur and laugh. Someone shouted, “Are you scared of losing, Alexander? Can’t you keep your word?”Others joined in, their voices growing louder as they booed him. Alexander’s face turned a deep shade of red, and his jaw clenched in frustration. The taunts and jeers rang in his ears, each one a dagger to his pride.“Fine!” he snapped, throwing his hands up. “I’ll do it! It’s just a car, anyway. I’ve got several of them. Losing one is nothing.” But despite his words, his voice betrayed him, tinged with bitterness. His prized Ferrari was more than just a car; it was a symbol of his status, and the
The Slumdog Billionaire 75. Worst Gift Ever
Chapter Seventy FiveThe crowd stood transfixed, mouths agape, as the impossible unfolded before them. Jasmine’s Benz, which had sunk to the river’s depths just moments ago, was now rising steadily, supported by hidden floaters that popped out around it, keeping it buoyant. The car glistened under the lights, looking pristine, without a single scratch marring its surface. It bobbed gently on the water’s surface, gleaming like new, the only sign it had been submerged being the droplets sliding off and a faint coating of mud on the tires.Henry calmly pulled a sleek remote from his pocket, his thumb hovering over the control. With a slight, calculated movement, he pressed a button, and to everyone’s astonishment, the Benz responded, gliding smoothly toward the shore, its engine humming softly as it drove itself out of the water, guided by artificial intelligence.“This… can’t be!” Alexander stammered, his face pale as he stared in utter disbelief. His jaw dropped as he watched the car
The Slumdog Billionaire 76. Fake Gold
Chapter Seventy Six Damon’s wife turned her nose up in disgust, her lip curling as she caught sight of the tag on the clay pot. “Charlie’s name,” she muttered, her voice filled with disdain. “I’m not surprised.” She raised her voice so the entire room could hear, her tone dripping with condescension. “If you can’t afford a proper gift, kindly don’t bring any gift at all,” she sneered, rolling her eyes before tossing the pot aside. Alexander’s face lit up with renewed purpose, spotting his chance to get back at Henry for his earlier embarrassment. He stepped forward, crossing his arms and smirking. “I knew it. How stupid and insulting to bring a toy clay pot to a prestigious gathering like this,” he jeered, his laughter sharp and mocking. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Henry.” Alexander’s laugh grew louder, feeding off the gasps and curious murmurs of the crowd. Damon’s wife, feeling her own irritation rise, picked up the pot again, glaring at it as if it had personally of
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175. The Bastardized Heir
The penthouse was dimly lit, the warm glow of candles casting flickering shadows across the room. Jasmine walked in cautiously, her breath catching at the sight before her. The space had been completely transformed. A trail of red rose petals led from the entrance, winding through the living room and up the stairs, each step illuminated by soft tea lights. The faint scent of jasmine and vanilla filled the air, mingling with the sound of a slow, sultry jazz melody playing in the background.Her heart raced as she followed the trail, her bare feet brushing against the soft petals. At the top of the stairs, the double doors to their bedroom were ajar, and golden light spilled through the crack. She pushed them open slowly, her eyes widening as she stepped inside.The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow. More candles lined every surface, their light dancing against the silk-draped canopy of the bed. A bottle of champagne sat chilling on a nearby table, two crystal flutes waiting beside
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174. Passion
Jasmine stood in front of the large window of their penthouse, gazing out at the glittering city lights. The night was quiet, but her heart wasn’t. It raced with an unexplainable tension that had built over the evening. Her fingers traced the edge of the silk robe she wore, the fabric light against her skin, yet somehow carrying the weight of her anticipation.Behind her, she felt the faintest shift in the air—a presence. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Henry. She could feel him, his energy wrapping around her like an invisible tether. “I couldn’t find you in bed,” he said, his voice low and husky, sending a ripple down her spine. “Were you thinking about me?”Jasmine smiled, her reflection meeting his in the glass. “Always.”The sound of his bare feet on the hardwood floors was soft, yet every step he took made her pulse quicken. In moments, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chest pressing against her back. She let out a small gasp as his lips brushed against her shoulde
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173. The Passionate Son-in-law
Jasmine sat by the window, her legs curled beneath her as the late afternoon sun bathed her in its golden light. She gazed out at the city below, her heart still racing from the memories of the morning. Her fingers absently traced the edge of the glass, the coolness grounding her as her mind swirled with thoughts of Henry.She hadn’t known it could feel like this—so overwhelming, so consuming. Every touch, every kiss, had unraveled her, leaving her bare and vulnerable, but never more alive. Her chest rose and fell with a deep, steadying breath, but the longing that lingered in her heart was undeniable.The soft creak of the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, her eyes meeting Henry’s as he leaned against the frame, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. His dark eyes held a familiar intensity, one that sent a shiver racing through her body.“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, the kind of voice th
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172. Love Under the moonlight
Henry leaned against the kitchen counter, a glass of water in his hand as the cool liquid soothed his parched throat. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden rays across the marble surfaces. The house was silent, save for the faint hum of the city below, but his mind was far from calm. Thoughts of Jasmine—her soft laughter, the way her skin had glowed in the morning light—lingered like a heady fog.Jasmine appeared in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the soft light. She wore nothing but one of his oversized shirts, the fabric brushing just above her knees. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks still flushed from their earlier intimacy. The sight of her sent a wave of desire rushing through Henry’s veins, his breath catching as their eyes met.“You left me alone,” she said softly, her voice teasing but with an edge of vulnerability.Henry set the glass down, his gaze darkening as he took a step toward her. “I thought you were resting.”Her lips curved into a s
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171. Morning Heir Making
Henry stirred awake as the faint golden light of dawn streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The air was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the city waking below. His body was warm, wrapped in the comfort of the plush sheets and the softness of Jasmine nestled beside him.He turned his head slightly, his eyes landing on her serene face. Her dark lashes rested against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she slept peacefully. Her hair cascaded over the pillow like silk, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest made his heart clench with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years.Henry couldn’t resist reaching out. His fingers brushed against her cheek, featherlight, and she stirred at the touch, her eyelids fluttering open. Her sleepy gaze met his, and a soft smile spread across her lips.“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep.“Good morning,” Henry replied, his voice low, filled with affection. His hand moved to tuck a stray strand of hair
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171. My Darling Virgin Wife
The soft glow of the candles followed them as Henry scooped Jasmine into his arms. Her skin was still damp from the bath, warm and soft against his chest. She let out a quiet gasp, wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips brushing lightly against his jaw."Henry," she whispered, her voice a mix of nervousness and anticipation.He paused, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Are you sure, Jasmine?" His voice was low, filled with both tenderness and restraint. "I don’t want to rush this if you’re not ready."Her cheeks flushed, and she gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I’ve never been more ready for anything."The sincerity in her eyes made his chest tighten. With a soft nod, he carried her into the bedroom, the faint scent of lavender still lingering in the air. The golden light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, the shadows of the night dancing along the walls.Henry set her down gently on the edge of the bed, his movements careful, reverent. He knelt before her, his
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170. Sexy Shower Time
Henry staggered through the door of his penthouse, his body weighed down by exhaustion. The soft glow of the evening lights spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. He loosened his tie, his every muscle aching from the relentless grind of the last few weeks. His mind was fogged with exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the flicker of pride at what he’d accomplished.“Henry?” Jasmine’s soft voice floated from the bedroom. The sound was like a balm to his frayed nerves.“I’m here,” he called back, his voice rough. He dropped his briefcase by the door and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.Jasmine appeared in the doorway, her figure bathed in the warm light of the room. She wore a silk robe that clung to her curves, her eyes filled with concern as she crossed the room toward him.“You look like you’ve been through a war,” she said, brushing her fingers over his jaw. Her touch was featherlight, but it sent a spark of warmth through him.“It feels like
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169. The prodigal son
Henry stormed out of the estate, his steps heavy and purposeful as the night air hit him like a slap to the face. The faint hum of the helicopters above was drowned out by the pounding of his heart. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His grandfather’s words echoed in his head, their sharp edges cutting deep.“You’re not family,” Henry muttered to himself, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. “I’m just another asset to him. Another chess piece.”The guards standing outside the gates straightened as Henry approached, their gazes wary. He shot them a glare so fierce that one of them visibly flinched.“Open the damn gate,” Henry snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.The guard hesitated for a fraction of a second before obeying. The gates creaked open, and Henry strode out without sparing them another glance. The crunch of gravel beneath his feet was a harsh reminder of the cold reality he was leaving behind.Anderson caught up to him, his pa
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168. The Grand Commander Of War
The room seemed to shrink as Henry’s grandfather stood. His every movement was deliberate, exuding a power so commanding it felt like the very air was holding its breath. The sharp lines of his tailored black suit amplified his imposing frame, and the insignia of the Grand Commander gleamed on his chest like a badge of omnipotence. His presence filled the room, an aura so intense it was almost tangible, crackling like an electrical storm.The two guards by the door immediately bowed, their heads lowered so deeply that they nearly touched the floor. Outside the study, Henry could hear the shuffle of footsteps and murmurs as more people fell to their knees, as if in reverence to a god descending from the heavens.Henry stood frozen, his jaw clenched, refusing to bow. His fists tightened at his sides as he watched the scene unfold. The man before him wasn’t just his grandfather—he was a living legend, a shadow that loomed over every story whispered in corridors of power.“Grand Commander
