Bride Asimov
1 Published Story
Bride Asimov's Book and Story
Boyfriend for Sale
Modern My girlfriend's name is Tricia. She has fair skin, beautiful features, and long legs, standing at about 170 cm tall. She has long, wavy hair that reaches her waist and wears different styles of white shirts and gray suit skirts throughout the year, giving her a very unique vibe.
She works in real estate sales. Three years ago, during a sales event at her company, I was somewhat confusedly dragged along by a colleague who was looking to buy a house. My colleague was interested in buying from her, but I found myself drawn to her instead. Eventually, after my persistent efforts, it naturally led to us starting a relationship. You might like
Mighty Super-rich Heir
Claudette Ever since I was a child, I had always been poor. Every time I came home from school, I would be met with the sight of my father busying himself in the kitchen.
From my earliest recollection, I would always remember my father wearing his old factory uniforms in the house. His hair was snow-white and he had very dark skin. He would usually smoke cheap cigarettes and the car he drove around was a Santana which was a real wreck.
Despite all our hardships, my father threw himself into his work for 18 years and raised me to his best abilities, and I ended up not disappointing him as I managed to get into a very good university.
Because I came from poverty, I had to work a part-time job in order to pay the high tuition fees. I knew my classmates must’ve looked down on me because I was so poor, but I did my best to not let that bother me.
On the day of my 18th birthday, my father announced that he was going to give me a birthday present and that he would bring it to me in person.
That day I saw my father in a new light.
My father’s coarse snow-white head had turned shiny black. He had replaced his tattered clothes with expensive Givenchy suits, and he even wore a Patek Philippe watch around his wrist. The old Santana was now a limited edition Rolls Royce.
I stared at my father with bewildered eyes and asked him in an incredulous voice, “Dad, is our family really the richest in the world right now?”
My father took out a Mayan Sicars cigar worth $500,000, lit it, and blew out a smoke ring. “Son, I know you’ve suffered a lot for the past 18 years, and I feel ashamed that I couldn’t have provided more for you. I want you to take this ten million as pocket money first. You can ask me for more later if it’s not enough!”