Alexander Kane Is Not a Poor Bastard!

Chapter Eight Six years Ago

(Flashback to 6 Years Ago)

Alexander’s hands trembled, his heart racing as he stared at the phone in his hand. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and despite being in the comfort of his own home, there was no air cool enough to ease the suffocating feeling in his chest. His eyes were fixed on the recent news update: “Sheet Coins will not be launching.”

The news hit him like a ton of bricks. He had bet everything on this cryptocurrency, pouring in all his hopes after the devastation of Foot and Mouth Disease (FMD) had decimated his farm. His livelihood, his future, had crumbled to dust with his livestock, and now this investment had been his final shot at rebuilding—his last thread of hope.

Now, that hope was gone. What was he supposed to do now? How could he tell Jeruel that he had gambled their entire life savings on a failed crypto launch?

His chest tightened as panic surged through him. This was a disaster. How could he explain this to her? Jeruel, his wife, had trusted him. She had trusted him to make the right decisions. Which wife could understand this kind of failure? Which one wouldn’t lash out at the sound of such devastating news?

Still, he knew what he had to do. He had to tell her. The thought of facing her anger filled him with dread, but he couldn’t avoid it. Jeruel deserved to know the truth.

“I have something to tell you,” Alexander said, his voice hollow as he walked into the bedroom. His steps felt heavy, his heart pounding in his chest with each one. The weight of the moment pressed down on him.

On the bed, Jeruel lounged in luxury, her feet being pampered by housemaids who were manicuring her hands. Jeruel was the epitome of comfort and wealth, and she had married him because she believed he could provide that life for her. She was no fool. She knew exactly how to pick her men—the ones who could give her everything she wanted.

Alexander had never been wealthy, but he had ambition, and he’d worked hard to create the life Jeruel craved. Four years ago, she had two suitors: one wealthy and one struggling. She had chosen him, not just because she loved him, but because she saw potential in him. Now, it was all slipping away.

“What is it, babe?” Jeruel’s voice was soft, but she could sense something was wrong in Alexander’s tone. But when she saw that the housemaids were still in the room, she waved them off. “Leave us,” she instructed, and within moments, they were gone, leaving just the two of them alone in the room.

“You can talk now, babe. What is it?” She asked again, but her voice now carried a hint of impatience. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him, noting the sadness in his posture.

Alexander sat on the edge of the bed, his back slumped under the weight of what he was about to say. He turned to her, but he couldn’t meet her gaze. His throat was tight, the words caught behind his lips. He was afraid.

The seconds stretched out like an eternity. Finally, barely above a whisper, he muttered, “Sheet Coins isn’t launching.”

Jeruel blinked, her face unreadable for a moment. “What do you mean? Won’t launch? Won’t launch?” She repeated, confusion clouding her words. Her mind struggled to process what he was saying.

To her, cryptocurrency was a foreign concept—something her husband had promised would make them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. She had trusted him. She had believed in his vision of a secure future, a future that would be theirs to shape. And now that future was crumbling.

The truth took a moment to sink in. Jeruel studied Alexander’s face, his expression full of regret, and the knot in her stomach tightened. This was it. Everything they had worked for—everything she had imagined—was falling apart.

“What do you mean, it’s not launching?” She repeated, her voice rising, now tinged with frustration. “How could you not know this was a possibility? How could you put all our savings into something like this without being sure?”

Her anger began to boil over. She had trusted him with their future, and now it was slipping through her fingers. The bitterness and fury swirled in her chest. How could he have been so careless?

“I knew this wasn’t going to work. How could a reasonable man invest all his savings in something nobody even understands?” she snapped, pacing angrily around the room. “How could you be so reckless, Alexander?”

The frustration in her voice pierced him, but he didn’t have the energy to defend himself. The damage was already done.

Jeruel stood up from the bed, her emotions churning, her face flushed with rage. “I regret the day I said yes to you,” she said, her voice shaking with fury. “Now what? Are we going to go broke? How do we survive with no savings, no investments, and nothing left?”

Alexander opened his mouth to respond, but the words failed him. He didn’t have an answer for her. What could he say? That he had tried? That he was trying to rebuild their lives?

“I’ll work harder, Jeruel,” he pleaded, his voice low, desperate. “I’ll fix this. I promise I’ll get us through this.”

But Jeruel wasn’t listening anymore. Her anger had completely clouded her judgment, and she wasn’t interested in promises.

“Get out, Alexander,” she said coldly, her voice firm as ice. “Get out of my house.”

Alexander stood frozen, the sting of her words cutting deep. Even though he paid the rent, Jeruel controlled the house. It was a tradition in their culture—men didn’t have ownership over their homes. Jeruel locked him out without hesitation, her gaze unwavering.

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

He stood there in the yard, staring at the door that had just closed on him. He had never felt so small, so utterly helpless. How would they survive this? His farm had been destroyed, and now the investment he had gambled everything on had failed. What was left for him? What could he possibly do now?

Meanwhile, Jeruel, emotionally spent and unable to face the mess she had found herself in, walked out of the house. She needed a break, a way to numb the raw, biting pain that gnawed at her. The bar down the street was a refuge from her spiraling thoughts.

“Two shots of whiskey,” she ordered from the bartender, her voice slightly slurred from the emotion of the evening.

“Two shots for you, ma’am,” the bartender replied with a polite smile, sliding the glasses in front of her.

Without hesitation, Jeruel grabbed the first shot and drank it down quickly. The bitter burn of the alcohol hit her throat, but it didn’t matter. She grabbed the second shot, swallowed it just as fast, and then demanded more.

“I think you’ve had enough, ma’am,” a voice interrupted. Jeruel looked up and saw a man in a sharp suit, his appearance polished, sitting beside her at the bar.

Jeruel’s gaze was unfocused as she swayed slightly, the warmth from the alcohol making her feel momentarily light-headed. “Mind your fucking business,” she slurred, but without warning, her head fell onto his shoulder, and she began to snore lightly, a strange, drunken peace momentarily washing over her.

The next morning, Jeruel woke up in an unfamiliar bed, her head pounding, the sunlight streaming harshly through the window. Her body ached—and as her blurry eyes adjusted, she realized she was naked. And beside her, naked as well, lay the man from the bar. Her mind raced as the haze of the night before started to clear. What had she done?

The weight of her actions hit her with crushing finality. What had she become?