CHAPTER FOUR
1830 Words
Just two days after getting the money, it was mostly gone—burned through like it was never even there. They’d spent it on girls, drinks, and parties, living like kings for exactly forty-eight hours before reality came knocking. Now, they were left with a couple thousand bucks, a hangover, and a gnawing sense of regret that neither of them would ever admit out loud.
Wes stood on the balcony, cigarette between his fingers, staring up at the cloudy sky like it had the answers to his financial stupidity. He exhaled slowly before saying, “Let’s invest this. I know a great company.”
Carter, sprawled on a cheap plastic chair, let out a dry laugh. “Oh, this should be good.”
Wes ignored him and took another slow drag. “It’s a medical company,” he continued, flicking ash over the railing. “They treat unique illnesses and s**t. Could be a great opportunity.”
Carter side-eyed him. “You sure it’s not a scam?”
“100%.”
“Bullshit.” Carter sat up and rubbed his temples. “You got scammed twice already.”
Wes waved a hand like that was irrelevant. “Yeah, but this time I ain’t getting scammed.”
Carter snorted. “That’s what you said last time.”
“This is different.” Wes exhaled a stream of smoke and leaned against the railing. “Besides, I need the money for a lawyer.”
That got Carter’s attention. He paused mid-rub and narrowed his eyes. “What lawyer?”
“For the court hearing,” Wes said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I need one, or I’ll do time.”
Carter just stared at him.
Then he let out a long, pained groan and covered his face with both hands. “Jesus Christ, Wes.”
Wes smirked and took another drag. “So… you in?”
Carter peeked at him through his fingers. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.”
Carter sighed, dropping his hands into his lap. “Fine. But if we get scammed again, I swear to God, I’m gonna start charging you for emotional damages.”
Wes grinned. “Deal.”
Wes finished his cigarette, flung it over the railing like a man who had never heard of fire hazards, and stood up, grabbing the money from Carter’s hands without so much as a please.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Carter muttered, watching Wes march over to his computer like a man possessed.
As soon as Wes logged in and saw the numbers steadily rising, his face lit up like a kid in a candy store. Green lines, profits, percentages—it was beautiful. Without hesitation, he dumped the rest of their money into his stocks.
Carter, who had been watching with the cautious skepticism of a man who had seen Wes make many terrible decisions, leaned over the screen. His mouth slowly fell open. “Holy shit.”
“Told you. This isn’t a scam.” Wes grinned, leaning back in his chair like a king surveying his kingdom. “Look at my earnings. If we got double this amount, I bet you we’d make a fortune.”
“Yeah.” Carter nodded, eyes still locked on the screen. “But where would we get it?”
Wes’s smug expression dropped. He slumped in his chair, drumming his fingers against the desk.
Then—his gaze snagged on something in the corner of the room.
A safe.
His boss’s safe.
His lips curled into a smirk. “The boss wouldn’t mind if we, y’know, borrow some of his money, right?”
Carter snapped his head toward him so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “The— the what?! Hell, no! You’re not planning on stealing from your own boss, right?”
Wes waved a dismissive hand. “Relax, it’s not stealing. We’re just borrowing.”
Carter stood up, panic written all over his face. “Dude. Your boss is a scary man. He’s gonna chop you up into fine pieces if you ever betray him.”
“We’ll pay him back, I promise.” Wes gestured at the screen. “It’s not like my stocks aren’t going up.”
Carter ran a hand down his face. “That’s exactly what you said before you lost five grand in crypto.”
“This is different.”
“Yeah, that’s also what you said.”
Wes just grinned, already scheming. “C’mon, Carter. What’s life without a little risk?”
“C’mon, Carter. What’s life without a little risk?”
“Safe. And calm.”
Wes scoffed. “Tch.”
Carter crossed his arms. “Do not touch that, I swear to God.”
“Oh, please. It’s not like—”
“I said don’t touch it!”
Wes sighed dramatically, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Geez.”
Satisfied, Carter gave him one last warning glare before heading to the kitchen. As soon as the door swung shut, Wes’s smirk made a glorious return.
Amateur.
He moved quickly, crouching in front of the safe like a man on a mission. The thing about working for a criminally loaded boss was that security got lax after a while—especially when you were considered a loyal employee. The code? Easy. He’d seen it punched in a hundred times.
A few turns, a soft click, and bingo.
Stacks of cash sat inside, practically begging to be borrowed. He grabbed a couple grand, shoved them into his pocket, and closed the safe right before Carter came back into the room, a beer in hand.
Carter squinted. “You didn’t touch anything, right?”
Wes leaned back in his chair, looking the very picture of innocence. “What would I be touching?”
Carter gave him the look. That deep, soul-piercing glare that screamed I don’t trust your shady ass.
Wes just shrugged and went back to his computer, casually flipping through stock charts.
That night, he took every last dollar he’d “borrowed” and converted it into stocks.
His face lit up as the green lines ticked upward. It was working. It was actually working.
“You see this, Carter?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his grin stretching wider. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart pounding.
This was it.
This was how he got rich.
…
The next morning, Wes rolled out of bed feeling like he’d been hit by a truck—probably because he’d spent half the night watching his stocks like a mad scientist waiting for lightning to strike.
But today wasn’t about stocks. Today was about surviving his first hearing.
He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face before throwing on the most decent outfit he owned, which wasn’t saying much. A wrinkled button-down, a pair of black slacks that he was 60% sure weren’t actually his, and a tie he found at the bottom of his drawer.
After one last, very unconvincing attempt at fixing his hair, he headed out.
When he arrived at the courthouse, his boss was already there, standing near the entrance with a stern gaze that could make grown men weep.
Shit.
Wes immediately straightened up and walked over, bowing slightly in respect. “Boss.”
His boss barely acknowledged the greeting. “What took you so long?”
Wes scratched the back of his head. “Traffic?”
The dead silence that followed told him that was the wrong answer.
After a long, unimpressed stare, his boss finally spoke. “This is my attorney. He’ll handle everything. Don’t screw this up.”
Wes turned to the man beside him—a sharp-dressed lawyer with the cold, calculating eyes of someone who definitely charged by the second.
Wes immediately thanked him, though he wasn’t sure if he should be thanking the lawyer for taking the case or his boss for not immediately murdering him.
Then, just like that, the case was underway.
As he stepped into the courtroom, one thought ran through his mind:
‘I really, really hope my stocks are still going up.’
Wes barely made it a few steps before a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to a sudden stop.
His boss turned him around with the same energy as a drill sergeant inspecting a sloppy recruit. His sharp gaze flicked over Wes’s wrinkled shirt and loosely knotted tie, radiating disappointment.
Without a word, he yanked Wes’s tie, tightening it with a quick tug that nearly cut off his air supply.
“Next time, try to look like you actually belong in a courtroom.”
Wes coughed, trying not to choke. “Yes, boss.”
Apparently satisfied, the man straightened his shirt with a quick, precise flick of his fingers, then stepped back like he hadn’t just manhandled him into looking presentable.
Wes exhaled sharply, walking off toward his seat.
From a few rows back, Carter leaned forward, barely containing his laughter. “That was painful to watch.”
“Oh, shut up.” Wes muttered, tugging at his collar. “I swear, I think he just tried to assassinate me with my own tie.”
Carter snorted. “Guess that’s one way to get out of a hearing.”
Wes shot him a glare but didn’t get a chance to respond. His boss was still watching, and Wes knew better than to push his luck.
He sat up straighter, forcing himself to focus.
If he made it out of this hearing without ending up in jail or strangled, he was never stepping foot in a courtroom again.
The hearing officially began when the plaintiff arrived.
And who was the plaintiff? None other than Jackson Feng.
Wes barely held back a groan. Of course, it was him.
Jackson Feng—the slimy bastard who ran the Jade Fangs, their rival gang for over a decade. A man so full of s**t, Wes was surprised he hadn’t drowned in it yet.
Jackson walked in with the kind of self-righteous arrogance that made Wes want to punch him on sight. He had the nerve to look the part of a victim—dressed in a clean, well-pressed suit, his expression solemn, his movements careful like he was recovering from some tragic injury.
To top it all off, he had a bandage on his forehead.
A fake-ass bandage.
Wes felt his eye twitch. That bandage wasn’t there last week.
He leaned slightly toward Carter. “If I throw a book at his face right now, how fast do you think I’d get arrested?”
Carter didn’t even look at him. “Instantly.”
Wes sighed. “Worth it.”
His boss shot him a warning glance.
Yeah. Maybe not.
For now, he’d let the legal process play out.
But the moment they were out of this courtroom?
Jackson Feng was going to regret ever setting foot in here.
- Writer
