Roger roamed the vast spaces of his luxurious home, marveling at the grandeur, the wealth, the style, the lavishness of it all. He congratulated himself for having made it, for proving his childhood tormentors wrong. He had laughed in their faces one by one as he had amassed his wealth at their expense. He had taken perverse pleasure out of grinding them under his well polished, very expensive, loafer heel. They had said he would never amount to anything. They had said he had no potential. He laughed, and it echoed throughout the place to return to him as a haunted rasping croak, at the thought of the misery on their faces as he’d toppled them. Hooking a hand beneath his coat breast, he turned to wind his way up the grand staircase.
Roger smiled all the way to the top. All in all, life had been very good to…
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