"The games of kings: Rise of the underdog"

chapter eight

"And why do you care?" I snapped, my eyes burning with fury as I faced Derek. His own face twisted in anger.

"Did you just talk back at me?" he barked, and before I could react, his hand flew across my face. A sharp sting spread across my cheek, but I refused to flinch.

I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Not yet.

The sales representative arrived, handing me my parcel. Selena caught a glimpse of the price tag and paled visibly. "Why are you surprised? Did you think you and your boyfriend were the only ones who could afford luxury?" I asked, watching the disbelief flicker in her eyes.

Derek chuckled darkly. "Says the errand boy for some cheap rich man in the city. I could buy ten of those without blinking."

I smirked. "We’ll see about that." Without another word, I turned and walked away. But my mind was already set.

Revenge.

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Tracy’s eyes widened as she stared at the parcel before her. "Did you steal this?" she asked, worry evident in her voice. "Jason, I know you want to make up for the past, but you don’t have to go this far. We have each other’s backs, remember?" She offered a soft smile, trying to reassure me.

"I got this for you because I wanted to," I said, my lips curving into a grin. "You'll make me happy by wearing it."

Tracy’s brows knitted together. "Are you… rich? Is this some kind of test?" She glanced around, searching for hidden cameras.

A laugh erupted from my chest, drawing the attention of nearby customers. "No, Tracy. I come from a humble background, but you…" My voice softened. "You were there for me at my weakest. You're the mother I never had."

A hush fell over the shop. Whispers swirled around us.

"Is she his mother?"

"I thought her son died?"

"Then who is he?"

Tears welled in Tracy’s eyes as she hugged me, resting her head on my shoulder. I patted her back gently, but my mind was already racing ahead—to school, to what awaited me. My punishment.

But things are different now. With my newfound wealth, I could change everything.

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[THE NEXT DAY]

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries stirred me awake. My eyes snapped open as the realization hit me—I was supposed to report to school by 8:00 AM.

I checked the clock. 7:30 AM.

Cursing under my breath, I jumped out of bed, rushed through my morning routine, and sprinted into the kitchen. Tracy was setting the table.

"You should have some coffee, Jason. I made it just how you like it."

I smiled but shook my head. "Thanks, Mum. But I have to go. I'm late."

The word slipped out before I could catch it.

Tracy froze, then smiled—a radiant, tearful smile that could brighten the entire café.

I stepped back, hesitated, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. "You'll always be my mother, Tracy. Thank you for everything."

She pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead in return.

Moments later, I was bolting down the street, flagging a cab, and soon, I was on my way.

---

The moment I stepped onto the school grounds, whispers filled the air.

"Isn’t he supposed to be here by 8:00 AM?"

"He’s late."

"I wonder what Mr. Harper will do to him."

"Probably kick his sorry ass out."

I ignored them. I had bigger things to worry about.

As I made my way to my locker to change, Derek appeared, blocking my path with a smug grin. "You know, I didn’t expect you to show up after what you pulled at the boutique. Guess you just confirmed you’re still broke."

I exhaled sharply, forcing my temper down. "Derek, I don’t have time for your games. I have business to take care of."

Derek smirked. "Ah, right. Your ‘business.’ Cleaning the entire school as punishment. But you seem to be missing someone."

My gaze snapped to his.

"What?"

"That wretched old woman," Derek sneered. "Why don’t you bring her along? She was dying to get you on Mr. Harper’s good side, when it’s me she should be bowing to."

Fury curled in my chest. My fists clenched involuntarily. I wanted to punch him. Hard. But I knew better. One wrong move, and I’d be expelled.

"Move," I said, voice tight with restraint.

Derek didn’t budge. Instead, he turned to Alex—a timid, bespectacled student passing by—and grabbed his collar. "You don’t mind if I borrow this, do you?" He yanked Alex’s water bottle away.

Alex glanced at me apologetically but said nothing.

Derek twisted off the cap and dumped the contents onto the floor. The liquid was deep red—God knows what he had in there.

"Get to work, dumbass. Make sure it’s spotless," he taunted, laughing.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Heat flooded my veins, but instead of reacting, I did something unexpected.

I removed my shirt.

Gasps echoed around me.

"What is he doing?"

"No way…"

"Is he really going to mop with his shirt?!"

Ignoring them all, I knelt and began scrubbing the floor with my shirt, dragging the fabric over the crimson stain. The noise around me grew louder as more students gathered.

"Jason is mopping the floor with his shirt!" Zee, the school gossip, shrieked.

By the time I finished, nearly every student was watching. The air was thick with tension.

I rose to my feet, my shirt now soaked and stained, and locked eyes with Derek.

"Why don’t we do this again?" I said coldly. "Name your price."

Derek scoffed. "What? You think you can pay for the damages?"

I didn’t blink.

Derek smirked. "Fine. Since you want to humiliate yourself further, I’ll help you out. Pay me twenty grand. Not that you have it."

Silence fell over the crowd.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash. The whispers turned into stunned gasps.

I smirked. "Will that be cash or transfer?"