After my billionaire grandfather died in a tragic accident, his lawyer read the will and left me with the one thing my family had already decided was theirs: everything. Seven billion dollars. The mansion. The companies. The authority. When I refused to hand it over, they threw me out that same night. By sunrise, I was standing inside my grandfather’s front hall with a brass key in my hand, and when they came to throw me out again, they stopped cold at the sight of the man waiting beside me.
After my billionaire grandfather died, they told me the fortune belonged to the family—then they threw me out for saying no. Six weeks before everything changed, I was living in a second-floor apartment over a dry cleaner and teaching piano to children whose mothers apologized too much. My life was small in the way some…
