Uriel gulped down his entire drink, slamming the cup on the table with such force that it shattered. The bartender, unperturbed, suggested he pay for the damage. Uriel coolly handed over his black card, telling the bartender to swipe it. But before the bartender could, Jerome, from a nearby table, called over a stripper. "Go pay for the cup and bring me that black card," he ordered.
The stripper walked over, handed a wad of cash to the bartender, and then subtly palmed Uriel's black card. She returned to Jerome, who rewarded her with two wads of cash.
"What did I do to them?" Uriel muttered to himself, his words slurred. "To deserve their hatred? I only loved them, sent them gifts on their birthdays, anniversaries, even when they didn't ask. But they always saw me as an illegitimate child." He continued, his voice heavy with self-pity. "Even when they were dying, I was the only one who visited them at the hospital, against Catherine's wishes. But they never acknowledged it. I watched them die, and instead of their love, they willed their entire fortune to me, do they think I want money?
This was punishment for my father's mistake, but making me a partaker of his punishment? That wasn't necessary." He added his voice low and sad. "But never again! I'm going to leave my life the way I want and how I like it.
The bartender, who had been listening to the rant, leaned in. "You want people to love you?"
"No," Uriel replied, shaking his head. "No one loves me. I've always been trouble for everyone."
The bartender looked stunned. "No one is unloved. Especially not a rich kid like you."
"I am," Uriel insisted, his voice rising. "You don't understand what it means to be a Jefferson in my shoes." He slammed his fist on the table. "Get me more drinks!"
"You've already had three bottles of brandy," the bartender pointed out, "You'll collapse if you have any more."
Uriel grumbled, "I'll buy this bar in a snap of a finger if you don't serve me."
Jerome watched from the side, ready for any trouble. As Uriel continued his rant, a group of thugs approached his table, pushing him off his stool.
Uriel's butt connected with the cold floor. With a great roar, he connected his fist to the face of one of the thugs, knocking him out cold. The remaining thugs, shocked, prepared to attack but were suddenly hit by a flying table, sending them sprawling.
The thug leader slowly rose, rubbing his head. "Who did that?" he snarled. "Don't you know I'm from the Black Mercenary Gang?"
Jerome stepped out of the shadows, a lit cigarette in his mouth, his fists clenched. "That was me," he admitted. Before the thug leader could reply, Jerome's fist connected with his face. An intense fight broke out, scaring everyone in the bar, who fled in terror. The bartender, remarkably, stood still, continuing to serve drinks as Uriel, having righted himself on the stool, watched the brawl as if it were a movie.
The thugs, though numerous, were quickly schooled by Jerome's fighting prowess. In less than a minute, they realized they had no other option but to resort to armed combat. The thug leader moved swiftly, a poisoned dagger glinting in his hand, aiming for Jerome. But before he could strike, a sniper shot rang out. The leader dropped.
Jerome, shocked, instinctively pulled Uriel to the ground in a swift dive. The remaining thugs turned to see where the bullet came from, but they were shot one after the other. Immediately, Sadiq walked into the bar, calmly taking an unfinished drink from a table and sipping it.
"Peacefully hand over Uriel, mate," Sadiq stated. "My boss is looking for him."
Jerome refused, bracing himself for a fight, but he was shot with a tranquilizer dart and fell with a soft thud.
Uriel, meanwhile, had passed out on the floor from his excessive drinking. Sadiq ordered his men to carry Uriel out of the bar. He turned to the bartender, handing him a black card to cover the damage, and left without another word.
Once outside, Sadiq called Zack. "I've secured Uriel," he reported. "Sending him to the villa now."
"Approved," Zack replied. "I'll be there any minute."
THE NEXT MORNING
Megara arrived at school in Hugo's car, the usual morning chatter replaced by an unsettling silence. She could feel the students' eyes on her, sharp and hostile, a stark contrast to their usual indifference. She knew why. The fight. The one where Uriel had beaten a player from the enemy team for molesting her during the school football match. It had been brutal, public, and now, it was clearly unforgivable in the eyes of many.
She kept her head down, not from shame, but to avoid Uriel. The last thing she needed was his drama piling onto the already heavy atmosphere. Then, she heard them – Laura and Jane's voices, calling her name, running towards her. A small smile touched her lips as she hugged them.
"How are you holding up after the post yesterday?" Laura asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
Megara's smile faltered. "What post?"
Jane hesitated, then reluctantly pulled out her phone. The screen displayed a picture of Megara and Uriel in the bathroom hallway, from when he had pressed her against the wall. The caption, damning and cruel, labeled her a "whore" and a "jinx."
"Don't even think about it, Megara," Laura said quickly, "It'll be forgotten in a day or two."
Megara's shoulders slumped. "No worries," she mumbled, "I'll just watch it die down."
Hugo, who had been silently observing, pulled out his own phone and logged into the school forum. His eyes landed on the same picture. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Uriel isn't going to steal my Megara, he fumed inwardly.
"Jane, put your phone away," Hugo commanded, his voice tight. Jane quickly complied, patting Megara's shoulder. "I'll be joining your class starting today," Hugo announced, his gaze fixed on Megara. "Consider me your new shadow."
Jane and Laura were happy Hugo was joining their class but Megara wasn't pleased with the idea and she asked him if he had a fight with his friends but he replied no and that he wanted to change scenery as it was already boring just staying in their private classroom away from the rest of the students.
Megara shook her head but wasn't convinced. She told him to not regret his actions once he found out how noisy the classroom can be. Hugo smiled and nodded in agreement holding her hand as they walked into the school building until she stopped in front of her locker.
Jane and Laura's faces lit up. "That's great, Hugo!" Jane exclaimed, high-fiving him.
Megara, however, wasn't as thrilled. She turned to Hugo, a questioning look on her face. "Did you have a fight with your friends?"
Hugo shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that. I just want a change of scenery. It's getting boring staying in our private classroom all the time, away from everyone else."
Megara wasn't convinced. She shook her head. "Don't regret it when you find out how noisy this classroom can be."
Hugo just smiled and nodded, taking her hand as they walked into the bustling school building. They stopped in front of Megara's locker.
"We'll catch up with you at the classroom door!" Jane called out, waving as she and Laura headed to their own lockers.
Megara and Hugo nodded, watching them go. Then Megara turned to him again, her voice hushed. "Seriously, what's wrong with you? Did you dump your team for me?"
"No," Hugo replied, his brow furrowing slightly. "Don't you trust me anymore?"
"I do trust you," Megara insisted, "but something just feels... off."
After wrestling her bag into her locker, she slammed the door shut and secured it with her padlock. They continued down the hallway, chatting idly, until they spotted Jane and Laura at the classroom entrance. They weren't alone. Mr. Armani, the principal, stood beside them, his face grim. Megara's heart sank. She knew, then, that she was about to pay the price for yesterday's scene.
Hugo gave her a reassuring pat on the back. Taking a deep breath, Megara straightened her shoulders and walked with a newfound boldness towards Mr. Armani. His voice, sharp and unapologetic, cut through the hallway noise. "Megara, my office. Now. No delays."