Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

66. Jail

Never in my life had I been in jail.

I will not lie, there was a pretty stupid phase in my life when I wanted to be a bad boy. I might have been about twelve at the time, and thought being a thug while riding motorbikes and smoking cigarettes was just so cool. It might have been because of my daddy issues meeting up with my looming puberty, it might have been because I was simply bored of how my life was going and wanted something to shake it up, and like most twelve-year-old boys I was utterly stupid and thought everything dangerous was cool.

I was also under the impression that bad boys got all the girls.

My mom got wound of this fantasy of mine because I was gullible enough to write it in my journal and keep it lying open on the kitchen table. While my mother swore that she deliberately did not read it and was just intrigued by my trying to draw skulls all over the page. After that, she made me watch documentaries over and over again about the downsides of crime, which was mostly