POOR GIRL FINDS A DRUNKEN MILLIONAIRE IN THE TRASH. WHAT SHE DID NEXT WILL LEAVE YOU IN CRYS

Lena had just finished her shift at the local diner, her shoes soaked from the unexpected rain, her spirit heavy from life’s endless battles. Walking home through the back alley to save time, she almost tripped over what she thought was a pile of rags. But upon closer inspection, her eyes widened. It wasn’t trash.

It was a man. A well-dressed man, unconscious and smelling of alcohol, lying among broken boxes and shattered bottles. She hesitated. He didn’t fit in; his coat was expensive, his shoes were spotless, his watch gleamed in the streetlight.

“Who faints in a place like this dressed like that?” she whispered.

Instinct screamed at her to get away. But something, perhaps his heart, which had hardened from the struggle but not broken, made her kneel and check his pulse. He was alive, barely. Lena pulled a half-dry blanket from her bag, which she used to cover herself on cold nights, and wrapped it around him.

“Hey, mister, can you hear me?” she asked softly, shaking his shoulder. He groaned but didn’t move. His mind was racing. No one was around. No one was coming. She didn’t know his story, but she couldn’t leave him there. Without thinking twice, she tugged on his arm, determined to drag him to safety. Dragging him back to their small shared apartment took all her strength.

His neighbor looked at her but said nothing. Gossip was the currency in their building. She gently laid him down on the worn mattress on the floor and covered him with the only thick blanket she had left. He didn’t wake up. He was just shivering. In the dim light, Lena studied his face. He had a strong jaw, thick eyelashes, and a stubble of hair that didn’t match his clean clothes.

Something about him seemed familiar, like a face on a billboard or a glossy magazine. But she dismissed the thought. “Whoever you are,” she murmured, “you’re lucky I found you.” She made hot tea and left it beside him, then sat on the floor by the door. She didn’t sleep. She just watched him, unsure if she’d done the right thing.

Was he dangerous? Would he wake up angry or, worse, violent? But something inside her told her this man was running from something, and somehow, she was now a part of it.

In the morning, Lena heard moans. The man sat up, holding his head as if it were splitting in two. He looked around in confusion, his eyes bloodshot and wide with panic.

“Where? Where am I?” he murmured.

“You were passed out behind the restaurant.” “I dragged you here,” Lena said cautiously. “Don’t freak out. You were in bad shape. I didn’t want you to die in the trash.”

His eyes rested on her, softening for a moment, as if trying to understand what kind of person would do that to a stranger.

“I don’t remember anything,” he murmured. He noticed the tea, touched the warm cup, and looked at her with an expression that oscillated between gratitude and embarrassment.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Lena nodded, but remained alert. Something about this man didn’t add up, and her instincts were rarely wrong. They fell into an awkward silence.

Part 1: The Beginning of a Story

The following morning, the rain had stopped, but the fog remained. Lena had left the man lying on her floor, under her thickest blanket. She had to work again that day, of course. The diner wouldn’t run itself, and she needed to earn what little money she could to make ends meet. Her rent was overdue, and she had barely enough to buy food for the next few days.

As she left the apartment, she glanced back at him, his silhouette still sprawled on the mattress. He looked completely out of place in her humble room—his expensive suit wrinkled, his shoes polished but carelessly kicked off.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she muttered under her breath, pulling her coat tighter around herself as she stepped out into the cold.

But something nagged at her. Something felt wrong about leaving him alone. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his face, or the way he looked when he woke up, dazed and confused, his eyes searching for answers that probably didn’t exist anymore.

But Lena had her own battles to fight. She had to pay bills, keep a roof over her head, and push forward in a world that had long since stopped offering her kindness.

That evening, when Lena returned from the diner, her heart dropped as she saw the apartment door slightly ajar. Her fingers fumbled for the key, her breath quickening as she entered cautiously. Had he stolen something? Or worse, had he gotten violent and left?

Her anxiety melted when she entered and found him sitting at her small, round table. His disheveled appearance was a stark contrast to the pristine man she had seen earlier in the day.

“Hey,” he said, without looking up. He was sipping from the cup of tea she had left him. His posture, usually so rigid and sharp, was now relaxed, but there was an undeniable weariness in his eyes.

“You’re awake,” Lena said, her voice cautious. “I didn’t expect you to be up already.”

“I’m not a baby,” he replied quietly, his tone a little sharper now. “I didn’t ask for this. But here I am.” He looked at her finally, his gaze piercing. “I know I owe you an explanation.”

Lena frowned, crossing her arms. “I don’t need an explanation, really. You didn’t ask for help, but I gave it. You don’t owe me anything.”

But her words felt hollow. Her instincts told her that this man was more than just a stranger who had stumbled into her life. His presence felt too… out of place, like a mark on a page that didn’t belong. How could someone so clearly out of his element end up here, in this dingy apartment in this quiet town?

He looked down at his hands, now gripping the edges of the mug. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Lena stared at him, confusion and suspicion creeping up inside her. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice tinged with impatience. But then, she caught herself. “Wait, let me guess: you’re some rich guy who got so drunk he ended up on the street. You think I’m stupid?”

He chuckled, a humorless sound that echoed off the walls. “I wasn’t expecting you to trust me, but no… that’s not the full story.”

Lena felt her breath catch. “What do you mean?”

His voice became quieter, more strained. “My name is Oliver Stone. I’m the CEO of Stone Enterprises.”

Lena froze. “Stone Enterprises?” she repeated, trying to make sense of his words. The name rang a bell, but she couldn’t place it.

He nodded. “Yes, I know. I look like the kind of man who never ends up in places like this. But here I am, stumbling through a night I’ll never remember, at the mercy of a woman I don’t deserve.”

For a moment, Lena was silent. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts—questions, doubts, and disbelief. The name Stone Enterprises was well-known. Her cousin worked for them, in fact. But she had never heard of him. Why would a man of such wealth end up on the street, drunk, and in a place like this?

Lena felt her breath quicken, and her voice came out softer now, more tentative. “You… you’re a millionaire?”

“I was,” he said bitterly, “Until I lost everything.”

“Everything?” she repeated, her heart slowing as the curiosity grew.

He looked at her, his expression one of exhaustion and grief. “I had everything, Lena. Money, power, prestige… and then I threw it all away. But that’s not why I’m here.” He paused, taking another sip of tea, his hand shaking slightly. “I’m here because I need someone to help me remember who I am. Or… who I used to be.”

Lena watched him, unsure of how to respond. Her instincts told her there was more to this man’s story than met the eye. And the strange connection she felt, the inexplicable reason she had gone out of her way to help him, made her feel vulnerable. Yet, it was clear that he was hiding something. The tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched, told her that he wasn’t just drunk; he was carrying a burden far heavier than anything she had seen in the likes of her everyday life.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Lena said, though there was an edge to her voice. “But I can’t just help you figure out your life. You’ve got to face your own demons.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze heavy on her. “You’re right. I should face my demons. But for once, I want someone who doesn’t know me to help me through this. Someone who isn’t judging me.”

Lena’s mind whirled as she took in his words. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask. But instead, she simply nodded, as if something in him had broken down the barriers of her initial mistrust.

She couldn’t help but wonder, though—How had he ended up here? What was the truth? Was he really the man he claimed to be, or was he hiding something darker?

Part 2: Secrets in the Dark

Days passed. Lena continued to go about her life, working the diner shifts, keeping her head low, trying to ignore the growing sense that the man she had taken in wasn’t just some drunken rich guy. Oliver Stone wasn’t just trying to make sense of his life. There was something darker in his past—a darkness that had followed him here, to this small, forgotten town.

Despite his obvious wealth, he never once mentioned his past life in detail, preferring to stay in the background, avoiding the glare of anyone’s eyes. He insisted on staying in the small room Lena had given him, and each day, he seemed more and more withdrawn. But when he did talk, it was always cryptic. He would make offhand comments about a ‘failed marriage’ or ‘lost love’, but he never gave specifics. His bitterness seemed to drip from his words, but there was always something more—something unsaid.

One evening, as Lena prepared dinner, she heard him moving around the apartment. He was pacing again. He had taken to walking in the small space, back and forth, as though trying to work through a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

Lena set down the plate she had been preparing, wiped her hands on her apron, and walked to the living room. She found him by the window, his hands pressed against the glass, his gaze distant.

“Oliver, what’s going on?” she asked softly, taking a tentative step toward him.

He turned, his eyes darker than usual, as though he were hiding something. “I’m sorry, Lena. I’m sorry for dragging you into all this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have asked you for help. It was selfish of me.”

Lena shook her head, her voice firm. “You didn’t ask for help. I offered it. And I don’t mind helping you. But I need you to trust me, Oliver. Whatever it is you’re running from, I need you to be honest with me.”

He took a deep breath, his fingers trembling as they gripped the edge of the window frame. “I can’t, Lena. You wouldn’t believe me. You wouldn’t understand.”

Lena stood still for a moment, waiting for him to continue. But when he didn’t, she stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’re wrong. I can understand. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be real.”

Oliver turned back to the window, his face grim. The silence stretched between them, thick with anticipation. Finally, he spoke.

“I was married before,” he said, his voice low. “To a woman I thought I loved. But I was wrong. She was everything I wanted, until I found out that everything about her was a lie. She was involved in something I couldn’t escape. And when I tried to leave her, I lost everything. My business, my reputation, my home.”

He paused, his voice heavy with guilt. “But I didn’t leave her… not entirely. And now I’m paying the price.”

Lena stood there, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt an overwhelming need to reach out to him, to comfort him, but she held back. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just about a failed marriage. There was something darker here—something dangerous.

“Why did you come here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oliver didn’t answer immediately. He stared out the window for a long time, his eyes lost in the night. Finally, he spoke.

“Because I had nowhere else to go,” he whispered. “And because I thought you could save me.”

Lena’s heart clenched in her chest. The sincerity in his voice was raw, and it tore at her. But she knew she couldn’t save him—not without knowing the full truth. She needed to know everything.

“I’ll help you,” she said softly. “But you need to trust me, Oliver. You need to tell me everything.”

For the first time, Oliver met her gaze, his eyes filled with both fear and gratitude.

“I will,” he whispered.

To be continued…

Part 3: The Truth Unveiled

The days following their conversation seemed to stretch on forever. Gabriel felt like he was walking in a fog, unsure of where he was heading. The weight of Oliver’s confession hung in the air, thick and suffocating. He wanted to believe that Oliver was just a man who had been broken by life, but there was something gnawing at him, something in the back of his mind telling him that the truth wasn’t as simple as it appeared.

Lena had offered him a chance to start over. She had opened her home, her life, to a man who had lost everything. She didn’t ask for much, just honesty. But the more Gabriel thought about it, the more he realized that honesty wasn’t something Oliver could offer, not yet. He had been hiding too much, for too long.

Every morning, Lena would go to work at the diner, and Oliver would spend his days in the small apartment, pacing, writing in his journal, and staring out the window. He had told her little about his past, but every now and then, he would drop a cryptic comment that made her stomach tighten. There was a darkness there, something far beyond a broken marriage and lost wealth. Something more sinister.

One evening, as Lena returned home from work, she found Oliver sitting at the kitchen table, his face pale and drawn. There was a wild look in his eyes, like someone who had seen a ghost. Her heart dropped. Something had happened—something that had shaken him to his core.

“Oliver?” she called out softly, unsure of what she might find. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He just sat there, staring at the floor, his fingers digging into the edge of the table.

“I… I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Something I should’ve told you before.”

Lena walked over to him, her concern growing. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me anything.”

Oliver took a shaky breath, looking up at her. “You won’t believe me. But I need you to know the truth.”

Lena sat down beside him, her mind racing. The truth? What truth?

“I’m not just some millionaire who lost everything,” he began, his voice shaking. “I didn’t just make bad business decisions. I was involved in something… something terrible. It’s not just about my ex-wife, either. It’s about what happened after we separated. What I did after I left her.”

Lena leaned in, her heart pounding. “What are you talking about, Oliver? What happened?”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear. “I became involved in something… in a group, a cult. They promised me power, success, everything I wanted. But there was a price. I paid that price, and now… now they want it back.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat. “A cult? What kind of cult?”

Oliver’s face twisted with anguish. “They’re not just a cult. They’re a secret society—an ancient group that believes in blood rituals, in sacrifices, in gaining power through dark means. They gave me everything I ever wanted, but the cost… was my soul.”

Lena recoiled slightly, her mind reeling. “What are you saying? You’re telling me you joined a cult? After everything you’ve been through, you still—”

“I didn’t know what I was getting into,” Oliver interrupted, his voice desperate. “At first, it seemed harmless—just meetings, just talking about success and power. But then it got darker. They wanted more. And when I tried to leave, they threatened me, my family. I couldn’t escape.”

Lena was silent, her mind grappling with the gravity of his words. It didn’t make sense. How could someone like Oliver, someone so seemingly charming and grounded, get mixed up in something so dangerous?

But the more she listened, the more she realized that Oliver wasn’t just broken. He was lost, entangled in something that had consumed him, something that had left him hollow inside. But why had he come here? Why had he come to her?

“I left the group, but they don’t let you leave, Lena,” he whispered. “They’ve been watching me, and now they want something from me. And I’m afraid it’s too late.”

Lena’s pulse quickened. “What do they want from you? What do you mean?”

Oliver hesitated before speaking again, his voice barely audible. “They want to finish the ritual. The one that involves blood. They need me to complete it. They need my blood, and they need someone else’s.”

Lena stood up abruptly, her mind racing. “Someone else’s? What are you talking about?”

But Oliver didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down at his hands, his fingers trembling. “I’ve been trying to protect you, Lena. I didn’t want you to get involved. But now… I can’t protect you anymore.”

Lena’s breath caught in her chest. She backed away, her mind spinning. “Protect me from what?”

Oliver’s voice was barely a whisper. “From them.”

The Revelation

The days following Oliver’s confession were filled with a palpable sense of dread. Lena couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was coming, something that neither of them could escape. She stayed close to him, but the tension between them was unbearable. Every moment felt like a countdown, like the clock was ticking toward something inevitable.

It was late one evening when the phone rang. Lena glanced at the screen. It was an unknown number. A chill ran down her spine.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice shaky.

“Lena,” the voice on the other end was distorted, deep and chilling. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Her blood ran cold. “Who is this?”

“You already know,” the voice hissed. “It’s time for you to make your choice. We’ve been patient with you, but now, it’s time to fulfill the promise. Your blood, or his.”

Lena’s grip tightened on the phone. She turned to Oliver, who had been sitting on the couch. His face had gone white, his eyes wide with fear. “What is this?” she whispered.

Oliver stood up, moving quickly toward her. “They’ve found us,” he said urgently, his voice thick with panic. “They’re coming.”

Before Lena could respond, the door to the apartment burst open. Standing in the doorway were two men, their faces obscured by hoods, their eyes gleaming with cold malice. Behind them stood a tall figure—Milana.

Lena’s heart skipped a beat. Milana? Why was she here?

“I told you it wasn’t over, Oliver,” Milana said with a dark smile, her voice cold. “You never should have left. You never should have tried to run. Now, the ritual will be completed. And you… you will give us what we want.”

The men stepped forward, their movements calculated, precise. Oliver backed away, his expression one of defeat.

“This is what they’ve been waiting for,” he whispered to Lena. “This is why I had to protect you. They’ve been watching us for years.”

Milana stepped closer, her cold eyes fixed on Lena. “You don’t have a choice now, Lena. You’re already part of this. You always have been.”

Lena felt a surge of panic, but something deep inside her—something she didn’t even know existed—flared. “No,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “You won’t have him. You won’t have either of us.”

The men lunged forward, but before they could reach her, Lena grabbed the nearest object—one of the heavy metal candlesticks from the table—and swung it with everything she had. It struck one of the men in the head, knocking him to the floor. The other man hesitated, but Milana held up her hand, stopping him.

“Enough,” Milana said, her voice firm. “Let her see the truth.”

Lena’s heart raced as Milana stepped forward, her dark eyes burning with purpose. “What do you want from us?” Lena demanded, her voice hoarse with fear.

“I want what you’ve already promised,” Milana said coldly. “You were chosen, Lena. From the moment you met Oliver, you were chosen to complete the ritual.”

Lena’s mind was reeling. This wasn’t just a coincidence. This wasn’t just about Oliver’s past. It was about her too. She had been part of this plan all along. From the moment she had helped him, from the moment they had gotten close, she had become tangled in the web that Milana had spun. But why? Why her?

Milana smiled, sensing Lena’s confusion. “You’ve always been a part of this. The blood—your blood—is the final key. You don’t get to walk away.”

Suddenly, Lena understood. She wasn’t just caught in a web of lies and manipulation. She was the final piece of something ancient, something terrible. And now, the price for her involvement was about to be paid in blood.

The Shocking Conclusion

In that moment, Lena made a choice. She grabbed Oliver’s hand, pulling him toward the door. The men tried to stop them, but Milana raised her hand again, signaling for them to let go.

“Go ahead,” Milana sneered. “Run. But it won’t change anything. You’re already part of it, Lena.”

Lena didn’t stop. She dragged Oliver through the apartment, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let Milana win.

The door slammed shut behind them as they fled into the night.

The End.