Fortune Nexus: My Wealth, My Rules, My Harem

Ryan Cole sat in the dimly lit diner, his fingers wrapped around a cup of cheap black coffee. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting a dull glow over the chipped table. It was well past midnight, and the city outside was still alive—cars whooshing by, distant laughter echoing from the sidewalks. But inside, Ryan felt like time had frozen, trapping him in this moment of quiet frustration.

He checked his phone again. 1:37 AM. No new messages.

Across from him, his ex-girlfriend, Emily Carter, scrolled through her phone, barely paying attention to him. She looked effortlessly polished—long brown hair tied back neatly, nails perfectly manicured, her blouse something that screamed "expensive." She didn't belong in a place like this, and she made sure he knew it.

"I don't even know why you asked me to meet you here," Emily sighed, finally looking up. Her tone wasn't angry—just tired, like this was an unnecessary inconvenience.

Ryan exhaled, trying to keep his frustration in check. Why had he asked her to meet? Maybe part of him still hoped for some closure, some sign that what they had meant something. Maybe he just needed to see her one last time before fully letting go.

"You left so suddenly, Em. I never really got an explanation." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

Emily rolled her eyes and set her phone down, crossing her arms. "Ryan, we've been over this. We were going nowhere. You're still stuck in the same dead-end job, living paycheck to paycheck. Meanwhile, I have a future to think about."

There it was. The thing he didn't want to hear but already knew deep down.

She had left because he wasn't enough.

Ryan clenched his jaw. He worked hard—pulling extra shifts at that damn convenience store, scraping by just to afford rent. He wasn't lazy. He wasn't some loser with no ambition. But Emily never cared about effort—only results.

"So, what?" he asked, leaning back. "You just move on to someone richer? Someone who can afford the kind of life you want?"

Emily didn't even flinch. She just sighed like he was being dramatic. "I moved on to someone who knows where he's going. That's not a crime, Ryan."

Ryan felt a bitter laugh bubble up in his chest. Of course. She had upgraded.

"Let me guess," he said, his voice sharp now. "Some finance guy? Drives a BMW? Talks about 'investment portfolios' and 'networking opportunities' like it's his personality?"

Emily didn't deny it. If anything, she smirked. "His name is Adam. And yes, he's doing well for himself. Maybe instead of being bitter, you should take notes."

Ryan stared at her, feeling something inside him snap. He had spent years with this woman—years supporting her, being there when she needed him. And the moment things got hard, she left. No second thoughts. No regrets.

"Right," he muttered, standing up. He threw a few crumpled bills onto the table—enough to cover both their coffees.

Emily looked up at him with mild surprise. "Ryan—"

"Thanks for the closure," he said, cutting her off. "Enjoy your new life."

Then, without another word, he walked out of the diner, stepping into the cold night air.

Outside, the city lights blurred as frustration burned in his chest. He was sick of being looked down on. Sick of struggling just to survive.

Something had to change. He had to change.

And he had a feeling this was just the beginning.

Ryan Cole walked through the city streets, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his worn-out jacket. The cold night air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was still stuck in that damn diner, replaying Emily's words over and over.

> "We were going nowhere."

"Maybe instead of being bitter, you should take notes."

He clenched his fists.

She made it sound so easy. Like success was just something you picked up at a store if you had enough money. As if he hadn't tried. As if he hadn't worked his ass off to survive in this overpriced city, grinding at a soul-crushing convenience store job that barely paid rent.

He stopped in front of a closed storefront, the reflection of his tired face staring back at him from the dark glass. Messy black hair. Slightly sunken eyes. A guy who looked like he hadn't slept well in weeks.

> Is this really all I am? A broke guy who just got dumped for someone richer?

Ryan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. No. He refused to believe this was it.

He pulled out his phone and checked his bank app. $73.42.

That was all he had to his name. Not even enough for next month's rent.

His job at the convenience store was killing him. Minimum wage, insane hours, and a manager who acted like giving bathroom breaks was an act of charity. The only reason he hadn't quit yet was because he had nowhere else to go.

Ryan kept walking, his feet leading him toward his tiny apartment—a one-room space with paper-thin walls, a leaky faucet, and a landlord who acted like fixing anything was a personal favor.

As he reached his building, his phone buzzed.

A message from his landlord. "Rent is due in 3 days. No extensions."

Ryan swore under his breath. Three days. Seventy-three bucks. No plan.

He climbed the stairs, unlocking the door to his tiny apartment. Inside, the dim light flickered slightly as he tossed his jacket onto a chair and collapsed onto his bed.

His gaze drifted to the ceiling.

Something has to change.

He couldn't keep living like this. Scraping by, getting walked over, watching people like Emily move forward while he stayed stuck.

But how?

How the hell was he supposed to change his life when he had no money, no connections, and no opportunities?

As exhaustion pulled him toward sleep.