THE HEIR OF FORTUNE

Rain pelted the cracked sidewalk like the sky itself wanted him gone, Aiden Cole stood there, soaked to the bone, clutching a thin paper envelope that now dripped with as much despair as it held unpaid bills. The city didn’t care. The people rushing past him didn’t care. And neither did the man standing smug in the lobby behind him.

“Let this be a lesson in humility,” barked Mr. Griggs, the regional manager of Dynatek Solutions. “You think hard work is enough in this world? Grow up.” Aiden’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white. His jaw trembled, but not from the cold.

“I gave everything to this company,” he said through gritted teeth. “I pulled double shifts, cleaned up messes you caused, handled clients you couldn’t”

Griggs waved him off with a sneer. “And yet, here you are. Fired. Useless. Disposable.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins quarters, nickels, a few rusted pennies and flicked them at Aiden. They clinked on the wet ground like tiny gongs of shame.

“For the bus,” Griggs added with a twisted smile. “Or maybe a meal, if you’re feeling lucky.” Laughter echoed behind the lobby’s glass doors. Aiden turned slowly, his soaked sneakers squishing with each step as he walked away without picking up a single coin, That was the last straw. The final nail. The collapse of everything he’d fought for. The rain never let up. Neither did his thoughts.

That morning had started badly enough. He’d woken up late in his run-down apartment no power, no hot water, no food in the fridge. His phone lit up with a text from Melissa, his girlfriend of three years: “I deserve better. Don’t contact me again.” The message came with a photo of her smiling arm-in-arm with Jason, Aiden’s cousin the one who never stopped calling Aiden a loser at every family dinner.

When he showed up to work barely ten minutes late, Griggs had been waiting with a pink slip. Just like that, after five years, The day should’ve ended with him curled up in bed, defeated, But the universe had one more twist in store.

Aiden sat on the edge of a crumbling fountain near the city square, water from the rain mixing with his tears, not that anyone would notice. His body trembled, not from the cold but from the storm inside him. He pulled his hoodie tighter, staring at the ground. That’s when he noticed them. Black cars.

Four of them. Identical, matte finish, engines humming like lions at rest. They slowed to a crawl and parked at the curb in front of him. Aiden blinked, confused. From the lead car, a man stepped out.

Tall. Mid-forties. Tailored charcoal suit. Polished shoes that splashed not a drop as he approached. He held something in one gloved hand a sealed envelope, Aiden stood halfway, ready to run. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” The man stopped before him and, to Aiden’s shock gave a respectful bow. “Mr. Aiden Cole?” the man asked.

“…Yeah?” he answered hesitantly. “My name is Mr. Whitmore. I represent the Remington Consortium.”

“The… what?” The man extended the envelope, sealed with a golden wax crest. “Your presence is required immediately. You are the last living heir of the Remington family fortune. Effective today, you own seventy-eight percent of the world’s largest private consortium.”

Aiden stared at the letter. Then at the man. Then back again. “What kind of joke is this?”

“It is no joke, sir. In fact…” Mr. Whitmore glanced back as the second car door opened. A woman in a black coat stepped out, holding a tablet. “There are urgent security matters involved. Your life may already be in danger.”

“…Danger?” Aiden frowned. “From who?” Whitmore paused. “From those who want your inheritance. And those who swore you’d never rise.” Thunder cracked. The city seemed to hush, Aiden reached out, took the envelope in shaking hands, and cracked the seal Inside: a single sheet of thick parchment with elegant script. “To Aiden Cole,

By bloodline, fate, and legacy, the Remington Consortium, its assets, holdings, and power now belong to you, Should you accept, your life will never be the same again. C. Remington” His knees gave way. But Whitmore caught him, Aiden looked up at the sky, the rain washing away the day’s filth, Suddenly, he wasn’t just another man in the crowd. He was a king in waiting.

Aiden is escorted into the car, As they pull away from the curb, a sniper's red dot briefly appears on his chest… then disappears. Whitmore doesn’t flinch. Neither does the driver. “Welcome to your new life, sir,” Whitmore says coolly. “We’ll need to move quickly. The board already suspects something. And your cousin… is making moves.”