Broken home
632 Words
“Here’s a million dollars. Leave Miss Mia.”
“Our deal ends here.”
Thud!
A duffel bag was tossed onto the table.
Unzipping it, stacks of $50 bills cascaded onto him!
Ah.
The greatest color in the world—green!
The butler scowled with frustration.
“You’re only eighteen! Why stoop to this line of work?!”
“A gambling father, an alcoholic mother, a sick sister, and a broken me.”
Lucan, unfazed, pulled out a counterfeit detector and counted the cash dismissively.
Butler: “…”
Spouting rhymes? Are you prepping for grad school?
“Wait!”
Hold on.
Mid-count, Lucan suddenly registered the butler’s key point.
“So… does this mean I don’t have to tail her anymore?”
The butler flushed red, stammering, “Vulgar! Vulgar! How can you speak so crudely?!”
Lucan ignored him and resumed counting.
What’s the big deal? Everyone’s got a butt. Why can’t I mention it?
The butler composed himself.
“The SATs are approaching. Mr. Jones wants to tighten Mia’s security. You’re no longer needed.”
“This million is your compensation.”
Two and a half years ago, Mr. Jones’ precious daughter Mia enrolled at St. John’s Academy.
Mia was ethereally beautiful but cold and aloof.
To Lucan, she was just a clueless goose—but beauty was universal currency.
Countless suitors flocked to her, only to be frozen out by her indifference.
Fueled by jealousy, rumors began to spread.
When Mia’s father learned of this, he exploded.
Others might rage impotently, but Mr. Jones had financial power.
In his fury, he donated a building to the school.
Poof! The rumors vanished.
Still, he worried—what if Mia was secretly ostracized?
But he couldn’t station bodyguards outside her classroom.
Then Lucan’s name surfaced: martial arts skills, poor family, top grades, and Mia’s classmate.
Perfect!
Mr. Jones expected to persuade a “desperate nerd,” but Lucan was already scheming.
He pitched a “professional fawning package”—paid to act obsessed.
Deal struck!
Money for protection. A bright future for both!
Genius.
Yet the job branded Lucan as the school’s ultimate “simp.”
Only he could endure Mia’s frostiness without retreating.
Yesterday, everything changed.
A gang leader from another school, smitten by Mia’s looks, decided to force her into submission.
“Might makes right? Ha! But he didn’t bother checking her background.”
The thugs ambushed Mia, yelling “Call her sister-in-law!”
Lucan, ever professional, fought off a dozen until Mia’s bodyguards arrived.
Today, Mr. Jones terminated their contract.
Damn capitalists! Optimizing me out?
But the severance pay was hefty. Profit!
Lucan packed the cash. A million bucks weighs 30 pounds. Not bad.
Noticing his bruised face and bandaged hand, the butler sneered, “Counting every bill?”
Lucan grinned. “This isn’t money. It’s an iron, smoothing life’s wrinkles.”
The butler blinked. “That’s… oddly philosophical.”
“Thank Mr. Jones for his generosity!” Lucan waved, leaving.
The butler muttered, “Selling emotions at eighteen… How does he not c***k?”
At a park bench, Lucan flipped open his client ledger and crossed out Mia Jones: [PAID].
“Rich girls sure pay well.”
Reviewing his schedule:
Weekdays: Guard Mia.
Nights: Play “husband” for a lonely aunt.
Weekends: Spar with a mad professor.
“Now my days are free. Time for new clients!”
A passerby glared at his laughter. “Degenerate times!”
Lucan: ???
Then he froze.
A black Maybach idled under a tree.
Inside, a woman in a silk blouse and glasses stared coldly at his injuries.
Ah. Saturday.
Time to fight the “mad professor.”
But a traffic officer slapped a ticket on the car first.
Lucan’s smirk sharpened.
- Writer
