The Gang Leader’s Hidden Heiress

Chapter 3: Cold Eyes, Fierce Fire

Brey:

John Angelo Lee.

I read that from his ID earlier. That’s the full name.

Too long. J.A.? John? Or maybe… I’ll just decide myself.

The name he gave was Gelo — too cute. And he’s not. J.A. is easier to say anyway.

I brushed my fingers lightly against his arm — barely a touch — but he still turned those cold eyes on me. Not a word. Just a look sharp enough to cut skin.

Tsk. Arrogant. Keep staring at me like that and I’ll take those eyes right out.

“Your name’s too long. And Gelo does not suit you. I’ll call you J.A.,” I said flatly, almost daring him to object.

No response.

Fine. “Call me A.J.,” I added, because I decide what names stick. Still nothing. I know he heard me. People like him hear everything — they just pick what to acknowledge.

I kept walking beside him, matching his pace without effort. It felt like an eternity before we reached the first classroom. He got there before me, so I let my glare follow him inside. He didn’t even look. Shame. He missed a very unfriendly smile.

“Oh, you’re the new students?” The woman greeting us was all sunshine and dimples — a professor, maybe in her mid-30s.

I hated her instantly.

The question was stupid. Of course, we were new.

I stared at her until her smile faltered. My eyes said what my mouth didn’t: You’re wasting my time.

She cleared her throat. “Okay, just introduce yourselves.”

I waited, curious if he’d speak first. He stood like a statue, gaze lost somewhere far away. Silent. I almost respected it.

“Angelo Lee,” he said finally, his voice cold and stripped of expression.

"Is that really how your voice sounds, young man?" she asked. He gave her the same look he gave me earlier — like she wasn’t worth the language.

Weirdo.

When it was my turn, I raised a brow,

"Aubrey Davison." My voice was as unbothered as my face.

I glanced his way — he was already gone, vanished to some dark corner in the back.

The professor babbled about our names, our profiles, as if I cared. Her smile sharpened when she got to mine. “Taekwondo, huh.” She was trying to read me. I didn’t let her.

Then she moved to him. “John Angelo Lee, 18 years old — Why did you come back? Aren't you supposed to be an exchange student?”

He just looked at her. No answer.

“They’re perfectly matched,” she said to the class. I rolled my eyes. People always think they can pair danger with danger, like it’s some cute match.

The lecture dragged on. I put my head down and slept — better than listening to breathing furniture.

The bell saved me. New professor. Classes here were just like high school — teachers rotating instead of students.

I turned to check on him. He was already standing, fixing his hair. His gaze passed over me before he walked away. I let my head drop back to the desk.

“Boring. I want to go to U.B.,” I muttered.

Then his voice — low, sharp — cut in. “You’re not getting up? We have a project.”

I looked up, surprised. I thought he’d left. Before I could reply, he grabbed my wrist and pulled it.

“Hey, let me go.” My voice had an edge, but he ignored it. Maybe he didn’t hear — or maybe he didn’t care.

His grip was strong enough to numb my arm, so I yanked it free, stretching my fingers.

“Don’t pull me around like that again,” I warned. He just stared at me, something dangerous flickering in his eyes.

Then, finally, the words: “Next time, don’t sleep in class. If you do, I’ll drop you as a partner — and we’ll both get kicked out.”

It was the longest thing he’d said all day. I almost smiled.

“Fine,” I said, catching up.

He kept walking, silent, until he stopped abruptly and turned to face me. His eyes locked on mine.

“From now on,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “you will not look at me like I’m yours to hunt. Do it again… and I’ll show you what happens to predators who mistake themselves for the apex.”

His tone carried no heat, no theatrics — just the kind of certainty that made the air between us heavy. Then he turned his back on me without another glance, as if my existence no longer warranted one.

A corner of my lips lifted. Now that was interesting.

Makes me wonder what happened while I was asleep.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I took a slow breath, standing still, eyes scanning for him — my so-called partner, who vanished without a trace. He brought me to his place, my starting point for the damn project. School had barely begun, and already this headache.

After threatening me like that, he’d just take me over to his damn house.

“Hi!”

A curse slipped out before I even registered the voice.

Hand to chest. Someone popped up from the shadows like a ghost. Where the hell did she come from?

Damn her guts.

“Hey, watch your mouth! Am I that terrifying? "Scared of this beauty?” Her voice dripped with arrogance, eyes narrowing at me.

I let a cold smile flicker, rolling my eyes.

Who the hell is this pest?

“I’m—”

She cut me off, palm slapped right in front of my face, eyes shut tight, shaking her head like she owned the place. I raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Angela. Angelo’s sister." She stated l Who the hell are you?” She asked, her voice thick with superiority.

I didn’t bother hiding my disdain.

She’s annoying. Too loud.

“Aubrey,” I said, sharp and clipped.

Her face softened for a split second, then she smiled — fake sunshine.

“Nice name.”

I didn’t care.

Her brother, on the other hand… looks like he’s got a funeral procession on his shoulders every damn day.

“Where’s J.A.?” I asked again, patience thin.

She blinked, surprised I dared call him that.

“You call my brother J.A.?” Her tone was almost offended.

I didn’t flinch. “His name was too damn long. Cut it short.”

She nodded like some wise oracle. “Only one person gets to call him that,” she said, her voice full of meaning.

I blinked. “Who?”

“Joan. No one else.”

I nodded like I understood, but I didn’t give a damn.

Joan or not, none of it matters.

That guy is arrogant and all over a name. Didn’t say no when I shortened it. So whatever.

“Oh, he’s back,” she said, pointing.

He appeared in a white V-neck and shorts, looking even paler than before.

This slow damn asshole.

“Took your sweet time,” I murmured, crossing my arms.

Angela crossed her arms, scolding him like a kid.

I smirked at her gesture — looked like she was copying me.

Pathetic. Copycat behavior. Grow up already.

When I glanced at him, I frowned deeper.

“What?!” Angela and I snapped at the same time.

His eyes darted like a trapped rat.

“You’re not cute,” he said to his sister, cold and indifferent.

Who’s really the grown-up here?

“So, this girl’s cuter than me?” My brows raised, looking at J.A., but I felt the chill in his gaze land on me.

Why the hell would she drag me into their conversation?

“No. Did I say that?” he snapped back. Then he looked at me, cold and sharp. “She’s not even pretty.”

My patience snapped.

“Excuse me? You talking to me?” I spat, voice low and dangerous.

“Anyone else here not pretty?” he stood, looming.

I shot back. “F**k you. Think you’re handsome?”

He covered his sister’s ears like she was some fragile child. I frowned harder.

What’s with this asshole?

“Tsk. Don’t curse here,” he hissed.

I didn’t care. I turned and walked out. Damn him.

Who does he think he is? Some kind of king? No. Just an annoying brat.

U.B. — Underground Battle. That’s where I’m headed.

But before I could disappear, his hand grabbed my arm.

“Where are you going? We have a project!” he barked.

I glared at him, cold fire in my eyes.

“Why are you yelling? Is this how you treat guests? I should’ve visited Mr. Bean instead. At least he’d serve tea.” I jerked my arm free.

He grabbed tighter. “How should I treat you then? With respect? I brought you here. Even if you were a guest, I’d treat you like this, just how you are — no manners.”

My gaze froze on him. Veins are tight.

I pulled my hand free, caught his collar, slammed him against the wall with a dangerous grin.

“Congrats. You pissed me off. Next time you open your mouth, look in the mirror first.”

I pushed him back and strode off.

It’s final. I’m going to U.B.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At U.B.

I could hear yelling from outside. From here, I could tell an intense fight was going on inside.

Familiar faces called out. I ignored them.

I walked to the ring.

Good thing no one's fighting here at my favorite spot.

This was my favorite place — Underground Battle, my old haunt.

I stopped coming for a reason.

But not anymore.

I want to fight. I want the pain, the chaos.

The only way to drown everything out.