Jackson Hart: The Student Billionaire

Chapter 7: No Guilt in Truth!

Jackson walked out of the club immediately.

Nancy, James, and Andrew hurried after him, their voices laced with concern.

“Jackson, wait—come on, man. Don’t let that idiot get to you.” Andrew caught up first, grabbing Jackson’s arm.

James joined in. “Jonah’s just being Jonah. You know how he is.”

Nancy hesitated, looking at Jackson’s unreadable expression. She sighed. “Please, don’t let them ruin your night.”

Jackson shook his head and gave them a small smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I really do have something to do.”

He wasn’t lying. He had plenty to think about.

The way they had looked at him—Claire, Jonah, even Nancy…

They still saw him as the broke, struggling Jackson.

And honestly, he understood.

He never flashed his wealth. Never tried to prove anything to anyone. Why would they think differently?

But what stung the most wasn’t the way Jonah mocked him. It wasn’t even the way Claire had sneered at his gift.

It was Nancy.

Even though she had defended him, deep down, she had doubted him too.

She really thought he had given her a fake Birkin bag.

And that? That hurt.

But Jackson wasn’t mad.

They simply didn’t know.

Nancy and the guys eventually let him go, though Andrew looked like he wanted to punch Jonah before heading back inside.

Back in the Lounge… 

Jonah swirled his drink, smirking as Nancy and the others returned without Jackson.

“So, the pauper really left?” He drawled, his tone dripping with mockery.

Andrew snapped.

“Why do you always target Jackson?” His fists clenched. “Do you have nothing better to do than make his life miserable?”

Jonah chuckled, completely unfazed.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m just stating facts. He brought this on himself. Buying a fake Birkin? Come on, that’s laughable. He would’ve been better off getting nothing at all.”

Claire, who had been silently sipping her drink, smiled wryly.

“I think I just dodged a bullet,” she murmured under her breath.

Nancy felt uneasy. Something about the way Jackson had left didn’t sit right with her.

But she pushed the thought aside. The party must go on.

Jackson walked down the street, his hands tucked into his pockets, his face unreadable.

There was no guilt in truth, so he wasn’t emotional about what happened.

What was there to be upset about?

Once he was broke, but now—he has ten million dollars sitting idly in his account and a hundred billion waiting to be cleared by morning.

He had just spent over $100,000 on gifts for his friends—luxury watches for James and Andrew, an ultra-rare Birkin bag for Nancy…

Yet Jonah and his gang still looked down on him.

That was fine.

For now.

At least he knew who they all were.

And soon?

They’d know who he was too.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pushing all thoughts of the party out of his mind.

Where should he go?

Then it hit him.

Evergreen Lounge.

A high-end spot, one of the best in the city.

He had always wanted to go but never had the money. Now?

He could walk in and buy the whole damn place if he wanted.

Jackson turned in that direction, hands tucked into his pockets, ready to enjoy the rest of his night.

That was when his phone rang.

Mr. Copper.

Jackson hesitated for a second before answering.

“Mr. Copper.”

The older man’s voice came through, steady and professional.

“Jackson. How was the party? Did they appreciate the gift?”

Jackson forced a chuckle.

“They had an… interesting reaction.”

Mr. Copper picked up on the unspoken words but didn’t press.

Instead, his tone shifted.

“There’s something I need you to do tonight, if you’re available.”

Jackson frowned. “What is it?”

“Go to Sky Tower and renew the contract for the 72-floor mixed-development skyscraper owned by your father.”

Jackson stopped walking.

“Sky Tower?” he echoed.

“The contract with some of the management teams is due for renewal,” Mr. Copper explained.

Jackson’s mind raced.

Who doesn’t know Sky Tower?

The most iconic building in the city. A marvel of engineering.

A place that combined business and pleasure—home to the city’s best hotels, luxurious nightclubs, restaurants, and corporate headquarters. 

Home to Evergreen Lounge—he was heading there already.

A place he had once admired from afar, dreaming of building something like it someday.

Now, he owned it.

Jackson felt dizzy.

“Okay?” He managed to say.

“I’ve informed Jerry, the head of management,” Mr. Copper continued. “He’s expecting you.”

Jackson barely heard the rest of the conversation.

When the call ended, he took a deep breath and hailed a taxi.

“Sky Tower,” he told the driver.

Minutes later, he stood in front of the massive skyscraper, staring up at the glowing structure.

This is mine now?

He inhaled deeply and stepped inside.

The moment Jackson stepped out of the transparent elevator on the 66th floor, a heavy slap landed across his face.

The sharp sting made him turn instantly.

His gaze landed on a man in his late twenties, dressed in an expensive tailored suit, his wrist flashing with diamonds.

Next to him stood a tall, stunning woman in a tight red dress, her thigh peeking through a high slit.

They were clearly wealthy.

And pissed.

“Are you blind?!” the man snapped, his voice sharp with irritation.

Jackson’s face remained unreadable.

He had barely brushed past them coming out of the elevator.

And for that, this guy slapped him?

The woman scoffed, looking him up and down. “Honestly, people like you don’t belong in places like this.”

People like you.

Jackson’s fingers twitched.

He wanted to laugh.

A few days ago, they would’ve been right.

Now?

He could buy them.

But instead of reacting, he simply tilted his head slightly, amused.

His lack of response seemed to irritate the man even more.

“Don’t just stand there,” he snapped. “Apologize.”

Jackson glanced at them one last time before walking away.

The woman gasped. “Did he just—”

“Walk away?” The man clenched his jaw. “That little—”

At the lounge’s front desk, Jackson was met with four young women in form-fitting uniforms.

Receptionists.

One of them, a blonde with sharp eyes, smiled politely—until she took a closer look at him.

Her expression shifted.

Her gaze flicked over his casual clothes.

He didn’t look like the typical VIP guest.

“Do you have a reservation?” She asked, her tone neutral but slightly doubtful.

Jackson shook his head. “I’m here to see Jerry Haas.”

The other girls exchanged looks.

Jerry Haas?

Their boss’s boss?

They stared at him like he had just claimed to be royalty.

“You want to see… Mr. Haas?” The blonde repeated, barely containing a scoff.

Jackson nodded.

The girls looked at each other again.

This guy had to be a joke.

Before they could dismiss him, however, a voice interrupted.

“Ladies.”

The man in the suit from earlier strolled up, smirking.

It was him.

Mr. Tusk.

He glanced at Jackson, then turned to the receptionists.

“Be careful with this one,” he said smoothly. “He’s a pickpocket.”

Jackson stilled.

The girls gasped.

One of them took a step back.

Another instantly grabbed the security radio.

Jackson exhaled slowly.

He should’ve seen this coming.

Mr. Tusk’s girlfriend put on a dramatic expression of fear.

“I felt him try to reach into my purse,” she said, her voice trembling. “We were lucky to catch him before he could steal anything.”

Complete lies.

Jackson’s patience thinned.

Mr. Tusk smiled lazily. “I suggest you call security before he slips away.”

The blonde receptionist nodded and pressed the emergency button.

Guards were on their way.

Jackson slowly cracked his knuckles, his gaze darkening.

These people had no idea who they were messing with.