Home Sweet Billionaire

Chapter 1

Raymond

I stride down the cracked sidewalk, my Italian leather shoes a stark contrast to the worn concrete beneath them. The neighborhood's decay doesn't repel me; it excites me. Every peeling storefront and boarded-up window is an opportunity waiting to be seized.

"This place is a goldmine," I mutter, a smirk playing on my lips.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Ethan, my best friend from college, and my unwelcome dependant, flashes on the screen. I answer with a chuckle.

"Raymond, my man! How's the concrete jungle treating you?" Ethan's voice crackles through the speaker.

"Like a damn buffet, Ethan. You should see this place." I pause to kick a piece of broken glass out of my path. "It's perfect."

"Perfect? You're walking through a war zone, dude. You're gonna get your ass handed to you one of these days."

I scoff. "Please. I've been in worse. This? This is nothing."

"You're insane, you know that?" Ethan's laugh is tinged with something else. Envy, maybe? "Only you would see a shithole and think 'jackpot'."

"That's why I'm out here scouring potential, and you're stuck in the office filing papers, buddy." I eye a dilapidated building, already mentally tearing it down and replacing it with a gleaming tower. "Fear's for other people. I see potential."

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Big Shot Developer. Just watch your back, alright? I don't want to have to come ID your body in some alley."

"Fuck off," I say, but there's no heat in it. "I'd haunt your ass if that happened."

"Great, just what I need. A ghost criticizing my life choices." Ethan pauses. 

A group of rough-looking guys eye me from a nearby stoop. I meet their gaze, unflinching. They look away first. That's right, boys. This is my turf now.

I continue my walk, the wheels in my head turning. This neighborhood doesn't know it yet, but it's about to get one hell of a makeover. 

I chuckle, Ethan's voice pulling me back to our conversation. "You still there? Or did you get lost in your grand visions again?"

"Fuck off, I'm multitasking," I retort, my eyes still scanning the dilapidated buildings around me. "Someone's gotta have ambition around here."

"Oh yeah? Like back in college when you swore you'd own half the city by thirty?" Ethan's laugh crackles through the phone. "Remember that shitty apartment we shared? You'd spend hours drawing up plans on napkins."

The memory hits me like a shot of expensive whiskey – warm, familiar, with a hint of bite. "Christ, that place was a dump. Pretty sure our couch was ninety percent duct tape."

"And a hundred percent stolen from the dorm lounge," Ethan adds.

"Borrowed," I correct him, grinning despite myself. "Indefinitely borrowed."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, man." There's a pause, and when Ethan speaks again, his tone's shifted. "You really made it happen, didn't you? All those big dreams..."

I straighten my shoulders, feeling the weight of my tailored suit. "Dreams are bullshit without follow-through. I just refused to settle."

"Yeah, well, some of us didn't have much choice in that department," Ethan mutters.

I ignore the bitterness in his voice. It's not my problem if he couldn't keep up. "Listen, I've got work to do. We'll grab a beer soon, yeah?"

"Sure, sure. Just don't forget us little people when you're king of the concrete jungle."

I end the call, pocketing my phone with a shake of my head. Ethan's always been all talk, no action. But me? I'm the guy who makes shit happen.

Taking a deep breath, I let the acrid city air fill my lungs. It tastes like potential. Like power. A group of locals huddle near a graffitied wall, eyeing me suspiciously. I stare right back, daring them to make a move.

They won't be here much longer anyway. None of this will.

I turn slowly, drinking in the decay around me. Where they see trash, I see treasure. This isn't just another development project. It's my fucking masterpiece.

A smirk plays on my lips as I envision gleaming towers rising from the ashes of this urban wasteland. 

I stride away from the gang, their eyes burning holes in my back. But I don't give a fuck. Let them look. Let them wonder who the hell just walked through their turf like he owned it. Because soon enough, I will.

A grin spreads across my face as I replay Ethan's words in my head. Poor bastard. Still stuck riding my coattails, just like in college. 

"King of the concrete jungle," I mutter, chuckling to myself. "Damn straight."

I pause at a crumbling brick wall, running my hand over its rough surface. In my mind's eye, I see it transformed. Sleek glass and steel rising from the ashes of this urban decay. My fingertips tingle with the thrill of possibility.

"You have no idea what's coming," I whisper to the neighborhood around me. The words taste like victory on my tongue.

I pull out my phone, dialing my assistant. She picks up on the first ring.

"Melissa, clear my schedule for the next month. I want all hands on deck for this new project."

"But sir, the board meeting-"

"Forget the board meeting. This is priority number one now. Got it?"

"Yes, Mr. Night. Right away."

I hang up, satisfaction coursing through my veins. This is what I live for. The thrill of the hunt, the rush of conquest. And this neighborhood? It's my next big game.

My phone buzzes again. A text from Ethan: "Forgot to mention. I need the totals from the last quarter to put together that spreadsheet you needed for the board."

I snort, typing back: "Fuck the board, i’ll deal with them later. I’ve got more important things to do."

As I pocket my phone, I catch my reflection in a grimy storefront window. My tailored suit stands out like a beacon in this sea of decay. But that's the point, isn't it? I'm the harbinger of change. The fucking Midas of real estate.

"Forbes, here I come," I mutter, straightening my tie. This neighborhood doesn't know it yet, but it's about to become my masterpiece. And the world? They're going to sit up and take notice.

I take one last look around, drinking in the scene. Soon, all of this will be transformed. And I'll be the one holding the brush, painting my vision onto this blank urban canvas.

Let the games begin.