Piss Off, This Is My Money

13

Oh, wait… this is fucking bullshit. Pure bullshit. How the fuck could Maya even do this to him? He loved that woman. She was the first person he ever really fell for. Fucking real. He was ready to screw his life over for her—drop out of the school he bled to get into—if she gave birth to the kid he thought she was carrying.

And he was a fucking game to her? Fuck, no! He wouldn’t end it here. He’d make her see the pain she caused, the fire he carried.

If she had just loved him with half the honesty he gave her, he wouldn’t be standing here like a demon.

Fuck everything she ever thought mattered.

One of the men in suits stepped forward with a folder, his hands shaking slightly.

“That’s everything she’s ever purchased with her money, sir,” he said, bowing. The others didn’t dare look at Jace. He looked like a storm about to swallow the world whole.

A few men were starting to worry he might hurt himself. But what the fuck was hurt? What Jace felt…was pure, unthinkable shit.

He flipped through the documents, fingers trembling. She had a garden downtown, bought and tended with her money. Life was already bullshit—he wouldn’t waste his anger on some measly plants.

Then his eyes caught something. He snapped his fingers at the men.

“Call me the owner of this store,” Jace said, tossing the document back at them and pointing to the name of the store where Maya had been buying her luxury shit for months. All of it, just to fool her followers into worshipping her bullshit life. Big money, fake vibes.

The men moved in sync. Minutes later, the car screeched to a stop in front of the store.

It was 4:00 a.m., but thanks to twenty-four-hour service, the place was wide open.

Yeah, he should’ve gotten some sleep after yesterday’s chaos. But how the fuck could he? How the fuck could he ever shut his eyes again after five months of being watched by total strangers?

And, hell, he snores. He has fucking snores! Rage boiled inside him. He clenched his fists and stepped out as one of the men opened the car door.

He stormed straight into the mall. A few workers rushed forward, startled by the fleet of men following Jace.

“Welcome, sir,” two of them chorused, bowing in perfect sync.

At a corner, one of the fuckers who’d never stopped livestreaming her life was already setting up a tripod, hanging her phone like she’d been waiting for this moment forever.

“How can we help you, sir?” one worker asked again, but Jace ignored him.

He turned to his men. “Where’s the founder?”

“We contacted him. He said he’d be here in a few minutes,” one of the men said, head bowed.

“Don’t you think it’s time to stop all this shit you’re doing?” a voice called out.

Maverick strolled forward, hands in his pockets, wearing that annoying face that begged to be rearranged.

“You should’ve been satisfied after selling her house, right?” he added.

Jace looked him up and down. “I’m fucking surprised you’re still walking around. I had a date with your girlfriend a few hours ago.”

“That’s natural,” Maverick said with a careless wave. “I don’t go back to my vomit. Use ’em and—” he made a stupid dramatized gesture, “pizzz.”

Jace’s lips curled into something that wasn’t even close to a smile.

“Should I show you to the door, or can you find your way?” Maverick said, stopping right in front of him. “My friend’s father owns this place. I’m about to call him and tell him not to bother coming.” He raised his phone higher, as if he needed applause.

“You don’t want to embarrass yourself again, do you? Honoring that shit we used to call friendship.”

“Hey, Jace, come to your senses,” Maverick sneered. “I was never your friend. Remember the day you told me your mother did some drug? I laughed my ass off on the livestream while you were crying. You were the only fucking one crying. The sounds from me were laughter. Take the hint and go and die.”

Something familiar twisted inside Jace’s stomach. His hand almost came up—to rearrange this bastard’s mouth permanently.

But no.

Fuck that.

That was too predictable.

“What happened between us was fucking real to me,” Jace said, and he couldn’t even stop the emotions crawling up his throat with the words.

“That’s why I told you to piss off with…” he motioned toward the men behind Jace, “they’re no match for me—or my family.”

“Give him a punch,” Jace said flatly. “Just one. Right in his fucking chest. He thinks you’re one of those cheap steroid-pumped muscle idiots he keeps around.”

One of the men stepped forward and bowed slightly at Jace before turning toward Maverick.

Of course Maverick was uncomfortable—any dumbass could see that—but his ego? That shit was screaming for CPR. And with someone livestreaming right there, this was his fucking chance to prove to the world he wasn’t weak… that he only slipped earlier on the staircase.

Maverick forced out an ugly laugh he hoped sounded confident. “You’re going to regret this if I don’t feel your punch. Think well before listening to this idiot,” he told the man.

He didn’t even finish talking before—

“ARGGHHH!!!”

The sound ripped out of him like a dying animal.