Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

I get fired.

Rain fell from the skies, splattering loudly on the warm asphalt of the road. It mixed with the stench of burned rubber and garbage stocked on either side of the alleyway. The alleyway is empty except for the lonely cat who had taken shelter inside a garbage can under an upturned cardboard box. The cat’s glistening amber eyes stare at me, and I stare back, unwilling to get up from where I lay even though the rain is making my clothes all soggy. My whole body hurts from the beating I took, and I’m pretty sure there are cuts on my face, given how it fucking hurts when I try to move my mouth a little. The water flowing down the road is dangerously close to rising to be leveled with my mouth.

Because I did not fancy taking a gulp of road-washed water, disregarding the pain in my body from the blossoming bruises, I shake myself and get up.

Each step I take toward the direction of the road hurts. The rain gets harder and harder as I trudge towards the miserable building my studio apartment was situated in so I could change and get to my job.

I did not anticipate constant bullying being part of my university life when I moved to Empire city in order to attend King’s College University. I had been so excited when I got the final acceptance letter. King’s College was the most prestigious academic organization in the country, and its acceptance rates were very low. Their graduates were guaranteed to be much-sought experts in their relative fields, and being chosen was an honor.

I confess I was idyllically naïve when it came to university. I thought all the students would be respectable and good-mannered, polite and friendly.

How wrong had I been.

Kings’ College students were instead snobbish and arrogant, snotty and privileged. I’d rather eat rocks than be friends with them given how much they tend to backstab each other for their own advantage. So, rest assured, I did not gain many friends in my first year.

However, I gained many enemies. And Stone Jeffreys was the worst of them all.

He was a football player, a star athlete, and an academically gifted student. And he was also a bully of the worst kind who seemed to be especially targeting me.  

And today was one of those days where I was caught in his rage.

Showering was torture, and I get dressed in clean, dry clothes in my apartment as fast as possible. My whole body aches, but I can’t afford to call in sick.

I make my way to the café where I do a part-time job. My boss barks at me to get my ass to serve the tables immediately before I can even say, “hello”. I exchange a short greeting with the floor supervisor and my fellow waiters before donning the mandatory apron with the café logo, grabbing a pen and a notepad, and making my way to the tables to start my job as a waiter.  

I try to immerse myself in my job, but the pain is too much. Stone had made sure to target my ribs when he punched me as two of his friends held me by the arms, and now breathing itself was difficult. As time goes on, the ache in my side heightens to a point where I have to crouch when walking. I pray that no one notices my discomfort.

“Hey, waiter,” One of the ladies at a table calls me as I lean over a counter to take a breather, “I need a refill. Hurry up.”

She taps her glass with her fork, getting some of the sauce on the glass as well as the table. Oh, great, she’s one of the messy customers who get everything dirty. I am so not going to enjoy cleaning that one up.

“Yes, ma’am,” Taking a glass jug of water, I make my way to the table.

Just as I’m only a step away from her, the pain in my side flares up, blinding me for a moment. But that moment is more than enough for me to lose my footing. My hand goes up, and a shriek comes. Water splashes on the woman who called me.

Oh, shit.

The woman begins to scream immediately as I apologize, but it’s too late. The manager comes to see what had happened. And just as he gets closer, the woman gets up and slaps me hard across my face.

Fuck.

“This dress cost me ten thousand dollars, you idiot!” She starts to scream, “Who is going to pay it back?!”

That dress is so not ten thousand dollars, it was most likely thrifted.

“I’m so, so sorry, I did not mean to do it, I just slipped,” I try to apologize again, my face burning from humiliation, but it’s not enough.

“What the hell did you do now, Jace?!” My manager gets in my face.

“I’m so sorry, sir, it was a mistake, I sincerely apologize…”

The manager’s eyes narrow on my face, “Is that a bruise on your cheek, Greyson?”

Oh, crap, there’s a bruise on my cheek? I didn’t know Stone got me there.

“Is this how you expect to work here, Jace?” The manager blows up on my, “Sporting bruises like some criminal, being negligent and spilling water on our customers? What kind of a server are you? Do you think we pay you to come and act like thugs?”

God, make it stop!

“No, sir,” I murmur, knowing that arguing with him is pointless.

“I demand to be compensated for my dress,” the woman declares, “Otherwise, I will sue this place!”

She is clearly bluffing; nobody can sue a café over a mistake like mine. She was being ridiculous.

“We are so sorry, ma’am,” the manager apologizes again. “We will compensate your loss, of course. And your meal is on the house.”

Then he turns back to me

“You’re fired.” He speaks. My eyes widen.

“But-“

“You’re fired! Get out of here, now! I’m docking your pay to compensate for her dress. Now get out!”

***

And now I am jobless.

I scuttle back home, sorrow heavy in my mind. It wasn’t the best job, but it paid my bills. And now I have to look for another.

As I get closer to the apartment, my phone rings. It’s a familiar number, and my heart skips a beat.

“It’s Jace,” I answer the phone, and a familiar voice comes.

“Young master,” Gerald said, “I’ve been trying to contact you for ages.”

“Hello, Gerald. I was busy. How are you?”

“I am fine, master, but your father is asking for you. He misses you very much,” I scrunch my eyes shut. It’s the same plea over and over again, “Please come back. It’s been a so long already. It is time.”

“I’m sorry, Gerald, but for the last time, no. I will not come back to Clandestine city, that part of my life is over. I start the new school year tomorrow. Have a good night.”

With that, I end the call.

No matter what happens, I need to find a way.