A beggar who became a billionaire

Chapter 1: The Man Who Lost Everything

Andre stood outside his own house.

He was not allowed to knock. Not anymore.

Rain fell on his shoulders. He did not move away from it. He did not care.

Inside that house, his wife was sitting with her parents. Andre could hear their voices through the window. Low voices. Angry voices.

"He cannot even pay for electricity," said Claire's father. "How long do you want to suffer for a man like this?"

Andre closed his eyes.

Three years ago, this house was full of laughter. Claire used to run to the door when he came home. She used to kiss him before he even took off his shoes.

Now she would not even open the door.

The door opened anyway. But it was not Claire who opened it. It was her mother.

"Andre," she said, her voice cold. "You need to leave."

"I want to see Claire," Andre said. "Just for a minute."

"She does not want to see you."

"Please."

"Andre." Claire's father appeared behind his wife. His face was hard, like stone. "You lost the company. You lost the money. You lost the house. What exactly do you think you still have?"

Andre did not answer. He had no answer.

"My daughter deserves a man who can take care of her," the father continued. "Not a man who begs at doors."

Those words hit harder than the rain.

"Where is Claire?" Andre asked again.

Footsteps came from inside. Claire appeared behind her parents. Her eyes were red. She had been crying.

"Claire," Andre said softly.

She looked at him. For one second, Andre saw something in her eyes. Something that looked like love. Something that looked like regret.

Then her father put a hand on her shoulder.

"Tell him," the father said.

Claire took a breath. Her voice shook when she spoke.

"I want a divorce, Andre."

The rain seemed to grow louder.

"Claire, wait"

"I already signed the papers," she said. She could not look at him now. "My lawyer will send them to you tomorrow."

"You cannot mean this," Andre whispered. "We promised each other"

"Promises do not pay bills," her father cut in. "Promises do not buy food. Andre, it is time you understand something. This marriage is over. Go find your own way. Leave my daughter to find hers."

The door closed.

Andre stood there for a long time. The rain washed over him, but it could not wash away what he had just heard.

He turned and walked away from the only home he had known for five years.

He had nowhere to go.

That night, Andre slept under a bridge near the old market.

He had one bag with him. Inside it, a few clothes, an old photograph of him and Claire from their wedding day, and nothing else.

His stomach growled. He had not eaten since morning.

Around midnight, he got up and walked toward the restaurant behind the market. The workers there sometimes threw away food that was still good. Andre was not proud anymore. Pride could not fill an empty stomach.

He searched through the trash bin behind the restaurant. His hands moved fast, ashamed, hoping nobody would see him.

That was when his fingers touched something hard and smooth.

He pulled it out.

It was a phone.

Andre almost laughed. Of all things to find in a trash bin, a phone was the last thing he expected. He wiped it against his shirt and looked closer.

The phone was strange. It had no brand name on it. No logo. No visible scratches, even though it had clearly been thrown away. The screen was black glass, smooth like water.

He pressed the side button.

The screen lit up.

Andre froze.

There was no lock screen. No apps. No signal bars. Just a single line of glowing white text in the center of the black screen.

WELCOME, ANDRE.

His hands started shaking.

"That is impossible," he whispered.

He had never touched this phone before in his life. Nobody knew he was standing behind this restaurant right now. Nobody could know his name.

He almost dropped it. Instead, he gripped it tighter.

The words on the screen changed.

YOU HAVE LOST EVERYTHING.

YOU WILL GAIN MORE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE.

WATCH. WAIT. CHOOSE WISELY.

Andre's heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears.

"Who are you?" he said out loud, feeling foolish for talking on the phone. "What are you?"

No answer came. The screen went black again, as if it had never lit up at all.

Andre pressed the button again and again. Nothing happened. No matter how many times he tapped the screen, it stayed dark.

He sat down on the wet ground, staring at the phone in his hands.

Maybe he was losing his mind. Maybe hunger was playing tricks on him. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing.

But the phone was real. He could feel its weight in his palm.

He put it in his pocket and walked back to the bridge, his mind racing with questions he could not answer.

He did not sleep that night.

Just before sunrise, while Andre sat with his back against the cold concrete wall, the phone in his pocket buzzed once.

He pulled it out with shaking hands.

The screen was glowing again. But this time, it was not a welcome message.

It was something else. Numbers, letters, a time, a date. All of it lined up like a code.

GAME: CITY LOTTERY

DATE: TOMORROW

TIME: 8:00 PM

CODE: 04 — 17 — 29 — 33 — 41

POTENTIAL WIN: $250

Andre stared at the numbers until his eyes hurt.

A lottery code. Tomorrow night.

It had to be a joke. A glitch. Some strange trick.

But as he stared at the screen, something cold moved through his chest. A feeling he could not explain.

What if it was real?

What if this broken phone he found in the trash was about to change everything?

Behind him, footsteps crunched on gravel.

Andre quickly hid the phone in his pocket, his heart racing.

A figure stepped closer through the grey morning light. Tall. Slow. Careful with every step, like a man who did not want to be heard.

"I saw that light," the stranger said quietly.

Andre froze.

The man stopped a few feet away. His eyes were not on Andre's face.

They were in his pocket.

"Where did you get it?"