The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking the cracked pavement of Brookside City, turning its narrow alleys into rivers of filth and forgotten dreams. In a world teeming with billionaires, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds, and people with lives glittering like gold, Evan Cole was nothing more than a shadow—a face in the crowd no one cared to notice.
The classroom smelled of damp paper and stale sweat. Flickering fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow on chipped desks and faded walls. Evan sat hunched in the back corner, his head bowed over a torn notebook, trying to disappear. His clothes were a patchwork of cheap fabric, washed so many times the colors had given up. His shoes—if they could still be called that—had holes big enough to let the cold seep in.
The teacher's voice was a distant drone, easily drowned out by the snickers and whispers that slithered through the room.
"Hey, Cole the Charity Case," sneered Derek Finn, the son of a local real estate mogul. His perfectly styled hair and designer watch gleamed under the flickering lights—a stark contrast to Evan's worn-out appearance. "Dropped your lunch money again? Oh wait—my bad, you don't have any."
The classroom erupted in laughter, sharp and cruel. Evan clenched his fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms until it hurt. But he didn't look up. He never did. What was the point?
The bell finally rang, releasing everyone except Evan from their prison of boredom. He stayed behind, gathering his few belongings with mechanical precision. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since yesterday. Not that it mattered. Hunger had become an old friend.
As he stepped outside, the cold wind slapped him in the face, mixing with the sting of humiliation still burning in his chest. He walked the cracked streets of the city, dodging puddles and pretending the world wasn't crumbling beneath his feet.
Then, his cheap phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: "Your life is about to change. Pier 17. 8 PM. Come alone."
Evan stared at the message, his heart racing. A prank? A setup? Maybe another cruel joke from Derek and his gang. But something about the simplicity of it—the absence of mockery—felt…different.
Curiosity outweighed fear. What did he have to lose?
---
8:00 PM – Pier 17
The docks were deserted, shrouded in fog and silence, except for the rhythmic lapping of waves against rotting wood. Rusted cargo containers stood like silent sentinels under flickering streetlights. Evan's breath came out in white puffs as he stepped cautiously onto the pier, his heart pounding like a war drum.
A black car was parked at the edge, sleek and out of place in this forgotten part of the city. Its tinted window rolled down slowly, revealing a man with sharp features, wearing a tailored suit that screamed wealth and danger. His cold, piercing eyes locked onto Evan's.
"Evan Cole," the man said, his voice smooth as velvet but carrying an edge that made Evan's skin crawl. "You're late."
Evan frowned. "Who are you?"
The man stepped out of the car, unfazed by the cold. He was tall, his posture relaxed yet dangerous, like a predator that didn't need to prove itself.
"My name doesn't matter. What matters is who you are." He tossed Evan a thick envelope. "Open it."
Evan's fingers trembled as he tore it open. Inside were documents—legal papers, bank statements, and a letter written in elegant handwriting. His name was printed boldly across them: Evan Cole—Sole Heir to the Estate of Victor D. Grayson.
His heart nearly stopped. Victor Grayson? The billionaire whose face had been on every news channel six months ago after his mysterious death. A man Evan had never met.
"This is a mistake," Evan whispered. "I don't know this man."
The stranger's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, it's no mistake. You've been chosen. Grayson left everything to you—his fortune, his assets, and…" He paused, stepping closer until his face was inches from Evan's. "…his enemies."
Evan's throat went dry. "Enemies?"
"There are people who'd kill to stop you from claiming what's yours. They already stole one thing from Grayson—his empire. But you…" The man's voice dropped to a whisper. "You're the real threat now."
Evan stumbled back, his mind spinning. Yesterday, he was a nobody, starving and humiliated. Now, he was supposedly the heir to an empire—and hunted because of it.
"Why me?" he croaked.
The man's smile widened slightly. "That's a story for another time. For now, just know this: You're the richest person in the world, Evan. But if anyone finds out…" He glanced around the empty pier as if expecting shadows to move. "…you won't live long enough to enjoy it."
The man turned to leave, his car door creaking open. Then he stopped, glancing over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Evan?" His eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Try not to get bullied anymore. You have people to rule over now."
The car roared to life and disappeared into the fog, leaving Evan standing alone—heart pounding, mind reeling, and destiny wrapped in shadows.