The Instant Billionaire

“Another round, please,” said Jake Turner. He pushed his empty shot glass toward the middle-aged barman, Sam.

“Yeah. Right after you pay for the ones you already drank,” came the reply.

“Come on, man. Cut me some slack here. Didn’t I tell you that I just got laid off from the factory?”

“How’s that my business?”

“Ok, you know what. I’ll pay everything I owe once I get another job and that will be very soon.”

“Very soon doesn’t pay the bills here, Jake. Pay what you owe and get out of my bar.”

Jake sighed. Why did his life s*ck this much? He couldn’t even afford to drown out his sorrows with a few shots of cheap whiskey.

He ran a hand through his thick wavy brown hair and sighed again. Since he left the orphanage at 18, he’d spent the past ten years struggling to survive. Jake was tired of living like that, but it didn’t seem like there was anything he could do to turn his life around. He felt stuck.

“Come on, man. Pay up,” Sam growled at him.

Whatever Jake was going to say next was silenced by the loud crash that happened behind him followed by a man yelling, “Stupid b*tch!”

He looked back to see what the commotion was about and he saw a sleek guy in a suit, towering over a lady who was sitting in front of an upturned table. She looked terrified.

“I’m trying to do you a favor here, fat girl!” The man yelled at the lady again.

Everyone in the bar was watching the scene with fascination, except Jake. He narrowed his hazel eyes at the unpleasant scene as fury slowly rose inside him. He hated bullies because he’d been a victim of bullying throughout his childhood in the orphanage.

“That’s no way to speak to a lady,” Jake said to the man.

He stared at Jake and his already hard face became stone-cold with fury. The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, with dark hair, a strong jaw and deep-set eyes which were now pinned on Jake.

“What did you say?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“I said, that’s no way to speak to a lady,” Jake repeated, rising to his feet. “Didn’t your mother teach you good manners?”

“You wanna come closer and repeat that?” The man growled dangerously. He flexed his fingers and curled them into fists.

“Sure, why not?” replied Jake, accepting the challenge.

As he strode toward the guy, he heard Sam mutter, “Oh, sh*t.”

He probably thought that the suited guy would beat up Jake because he was more muscular than him, but Jake was taller and younger.

He stopped a few feet away from the guy and rolled his shoulders suggestively.

“You were saying?” the suited guy asked.

“I said, didn’t your mother – oof!”

The rest of Jake’s response was punched away as the guy’s fist connected with his jaw. He staggered backwards but quickly regained his balance.

The guy came back to deck him a second time but Jake dodged the blow and planted his fist in his opponent’s stomach, making him double over in pain. The lady screamed and scrambled away from the fighting men.

“I’m going to kill you, you dirty scum!” the guy screamed angrily.

He kept swinging his fists at Jake but they never managed to connect because Jake was doing a good job of dodging them. He slammed his fist into the guy’s abs again and this time, he fell and landed on a table, breaking it to pieces.

“All right, that’s it. You two, get out of my bar right now or I’ll call the cops,” Sam threatened.

“I’m out already,” said Jake, stepping away from the man who was struggling to get up.

“You f*ck*ng b*st*rd!” he snarled and marched out of the bar.

To Jake’s surprise, the woman ran after the man. He followed them outside to see what would happen next.

“This is all your fault,” the guy was saying to her when Jake got outside. “You made that b*st*rd disrespect me in public!”

“I’m so sorry, Martin,” she apologized.

“And you, scum. I’m going to deal with you in this town,” he said to Jake. “I’ve marked your face and I will find you, and end you!”

He got into his black BMW and zoomed off, leaving the distraught lady behind.

“Hey, are you ok?” Jake asked her softly.

She nodded and looked up at him. She was a curvy petite lady with honey-blonde hair and baby-blue eyes. She reminded Jake of those dolls that his foster sister used to play with when they were little.

“I’m Jake,” he said and extended his hand to her for a shake.

She looked at his hand but didn’t accept it. It was dirty and blackened with soot. He hadn’t had time to wash his hands or take off his dirty overalls before coming to the bar.

“Sorry,” he said and withdrew his hand.

“No, don’t be,” she said with a shy smile. “I’m Morgan.”

“Morgan? Isn’t that a dude’s name?”

She chuckled. “My dad wanted a son. Thank you for defending in there. That was very brave of you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I hate bullies, so I couldn’t just stand back and watch that one disrespect you like that.”

“That’s very sweet of you. The world needs more people like you.”

His head swelled with the compliment. The only thing he ever received every day was insults. It felt good to be complimented for once.

“Where are you headed?” He asked her.

“Home. That’s if I can get a taxi. I don’t even know how to find one.”

Jake laughed, but then he realized that she was serious. What sort of grown woman doesn’t know how to get a taxi for herself?

“I’ll hail one for you,” he said and went to stand by the edge of the road. Within two minutes, he flagged down a taxi.

“Thank you,” she said when he held the back door open for her, but she didn’t enter. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Can you escort me home?”

Well, that was an odd request, but Jake understood why. She was probably afraid of going home alone and maybe running into that bully again.

“Yeah, sure. But you’re paying for the ride.”

“Of course,” she said happily and got into the taxi. He followed her in and closed the door.

“Pearly Hills, please,” she said to the driver.

Jake’s eyes widened. “Is that where you live?”

“Yes.”

“So what are you doing in this dingy side of town?”

“It was Martin’s idea. He said he wanted to show me how the other half of the population lived.”

“Why?”

“Because he thinks I’m living inside a bubble that is different from reality,” she said with a shrug.

Jake was intrigued. This lady lived on the side of the city that was reserved for the richest of the rich, and here he was on a taxi ride with her. Cool!

“What do you do for a living?” Morgan asked.

“Until this evening, I worked in a factory that produced heavy-duty machinery. I got laid off today without pay.”

“Why?”

“They claimed they’re downsizing. All I got was a meal ticket for dinner, which I’ve already used.”

“Oh, that’s sad. What about your family?”

“I don’t have any. I’ve been on my own since I left the orphanage when I turned 18. That was seven years ago.”

“Aww…”

“Yep.”

“Where do you live?”

“I share an apartment with some of my buddies in Shaw Town.”

“I heard that’s a very tough place to live in.”

“It is. That’s the headquarters of gang violence, robbery, druggies, and every kind of evil you can think of. But that’s been my home for a while now.”

“We’re here, Miss,” said the driver. “Do you have a gate pass?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll speak to the security at the gate,” she replied.

The taxi driver moved forward and rolled down the back window so that the security men at the estate gates could identify Morgan.

When they saw her, they stood at attention and greeted her politely.

“Good evening, Miss Sherwood. Welcome back.”

“Thanks, guys. This is Jake. He’s going in with me.”

“Ok, ma’am.”

The gates swung open, and the taxi drove in. Jake felt as if he was entering paradise. The houses in this estate were mansions. Huge, towering mansions that looked like mountains.

They drove past an avenue of palm trees and street lights. He couldn’t get enough of the beauty of this place; the manicured lawns, the exotic cars, and the spotless streets.

“Wow…” he gushed. “This is where you live?”

“This is where I grew up,” she replied with a smile.

Jake stared at her. “Who are you?”

“You’ll see,” she said mysteriously. “Please, pull up here.”

The driver parked in front of a fenced compound with a huge intricately designed gate. There was a large S carved into the middle of the gate.

Morgan paid the driver, and they got out of the taxi. Once the car drove away, she focused her attention on Jake.

“Thank you for escorting me home,” she said. “In the last few minutes, I’ve learnt a lot about you.”

“And I still don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s true, so let’s begin with a proper introduction. I’m Morgan Sherwood, heiress of the Sherwood Empire.”

Jake’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Yes, Jake. My father is Richard Sherwood, President and CEO of Sherwood Holdings. As you may already know, my father’s businesses encompass freight shipping, construction, oil and gas, consumer goods, and pharmaceuticals.”

“Get. Out,” said Jake in disbelief.

“Listen, Jake. Last month was my thirtieth birthday, and my parents are getting desperate. My father is old, and he’s ready to retire and hand over the reins of his empire to me.”

“Ok…”

“But there’s a condition that I haven’t met yet. Once I hit that milestone, everything my father owns will become mine.”

“Oh, boy. You’re about to become a very wealthy lady,” said Jake in awe.

“Yes, and that’s where you come in.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Jake. I want you to marry me.”

“There he is! The man of the hour,” said Brian as Jake entered the tiny apartment he shared with him and two other guys.

“What’s up, bruh?” Jake greeted him.

“Cut the crap, pretty boy. Where’s your rent?” Freddie asked. He was a short, bulky guy with a mean streak and a foul mouth.

“Chill out, man,” said Paul. “At least, let him sit down first.”

“He can sit after he pays,” Freddie growled.

“So, where’s your cut, bruh?” Brian asked.

Six pairs of eyes focused on Jake. He realized just then that this was a gang-up against him. He’d walked into an ambush.

“Look, I got laid off from work today,” he explained.

Paul laughed and said, “I won!”

He stretched out his hand towards Brian and got a $20 bill in return.

“Wait, you guys bet on me?” Jake asked, embarrassed.

“Yeah, because all you ever come up with are stories,” said Freddie. “You never pay your share of the rent and hardly contribute to buying the groceries.”

“An