HE WANTS ME; A dark, mafia, stepbrothers romance

KALE’S POV:

Some days feel like the end of my life. I'm not talking about suicidal thoughts or anything too dramatic. I'm talking about every force, physical and spiritual, conspiring together to push me off the cliff.

Am I miserable? Yes.

Do I think everything happening to me is unfair? Yes.

Do I curse the universe sometimes? Yes... Actually, I curse it every time for being so damn partial.

...Yet I don't really hate my life.

I don't know why. I should. Hell, the universe wants me to.

Like the situation at hand right now.

"Mr. Vance, this call is to inform you that we will be freezing your account and you will not be receiving any future loan disbursement."

I let go of the shirt I was holding and grabbed my phone from the table. "What? Why? You can't just freeze my account."

"Your student loan account is two months past due. Your interest is increasing, and you have not paid anything."

Fuck. I stared at the clothes I was packing into my luggage. I was supposed to pay a down payment for my new apartment—unless I wanted to be homeless within hours. And now this.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked exhausted. I'd spent the morning packing up everything I owned .

"Please," I pleaded, my voice softer than I wanted. "Don't freeze my account. I'll pay up the loans. Can you give me some time?"

"Sorry, we can't, Mr. Vance—"

"Give me the grace of two days. I will make sure to complete my payment." My voice was desperate, my heart pounding.

The lady at the end of the line sighed. "You have 48 hours to make a payment. If you don't, we will freeze your future loans. You will not receive funding for the upcoming semester. Do you understand the seriousness of this situation? You may have to give up your apartment or properties that belong to you."

Good luck with the apartment. I was already getting out of here. I didn't want to stay any longer with him.

"Oh, thank you so much—" I was mid-sentence when the door slammed against the wall loudly. I flinched, spinning around to see Marcus—my now ex-boyfriend—standing in the doorway, his face twisted in anger.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone whenever I call?" He yelled, his voice echoing through the house.

Wincing, I held up a finger, still on the phone. "I have to go, ma'am. Thank you again." I ended the call and faced Marcus. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Marcus marched into the room, coming so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You've been ignoring me for three days!"

I breathed out steadily, controlling my anger. "I was busy. And can you stop yelling? The neighbors are going to complain."

He laughed, swaying slightly. "Is that what you're so concerned about? Then I should be louder. Where the fuck were you?"

I pushed him back. "Get out, Marcus. I don't have the strength to fight with you. I'm busy."

He looked around the room for the first time—my clothes out of the wardrobe, some on the bed, some in my luggage. "Where do you think you're going? You want to leave me?" He walked around me toward the bed, grabbed my luggage, and dumped the contents on the floor. Then he kicked the clothes around.

The suppressed anger burst free from me. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out and let me be at peace. I'm done with this fucking relationship and I'm done with your stupid ass."

"You're being dramatic." He had the audacity to say that.

I glared at him, my voice going cold. "I'm being dramatic, Marcus? Me? You cheated on me! With a fucking girl. You threw three years of relationship away over what? Sex? So yes, forgive me for wanting it to be over."

"It was a one-time thing. And I was drunk. I tried to explain to you that she came onto me. I couldn't do anything! What would you have done if you were in my position?"

I scoffed, not believing this was the rubbish coming out of the guy I thought was my everything. "You are stupid, Marcus. And I'm also a fool. A big fool to ignore the red flags that were vividly waving in the air. You're a fucking cheater."

He shoved through my clothes on the floor, grabbing me by my collar, his eyes filled with fury. "What did you call me?"

Spitting out the word, "A cheater." I matched his fury with mine, feeling a sense of joy when spits landed on his stupid face. "You think I don't know you were fucking her behind my back?"

His face flashed with surprise, and I continued. "I turned a blind eye because I thought it was a phase. Yes, I'm such a fool to think you would get tired of her." I slapped his grip when I felt it weaken. "But this! Fucking her during my birthday party, in front of my friends and family? That was a much bigger insult."

"Let's forget this issue, love." Marcus's tone softened as he called me his usual sweet name, noticing I was being damn serious. Normally, I would fold whenever he did that, dropping the issue and going into his embrace.

But not today. Not ever. I was tired of this. I already had too much on my plate. It was time I let go of the most useless burden weighing me down.

"Fuck off, Marcus. Go fuck your new lover. Impregnate her for all I care. But we are done. Over. Marcus. O.V.E.R." I spelled it out in case he was having trouble understanding me.

His hands curled into fists, his jaw clenching as his nostrils flared like he was sucking in all the air. But I knew he was trying not to get violent with me. Something I would truly appreciate because I couldn't fight.

I ignored him, picking up my clothes he had thrown and placing them on the bed. Who knew packing up your things could be this tiring? And Marcus just had to make me start all over.

I needed to call my agent and tell him I was postponing my down payment. And I needed to call Owen and ask for overtime. More cash. That was what I needed.

As the thought flashed through my mind, my phone vibrated on the bed—I must have thrown it there during the argument. I glanced at Marcus, who was watching my every move, probably planning how to stop me.

Unfortunately for him, I'd be leaving this house.

I grabbed the phone. The screen stared back at me with a notification from work. I unlocked it. It was from Owen.

"Aliv, come to the club at 6pm."

Thank goodness. I smiled a little at the good news. I was about to type my reply when my phone was snatched from my hands.

Marcus's eyes skimmed through the message, then snapped back to me. "You almost had me deceived into believing I did something wrong."

"Give me my phone." I reached for it, but he pulled it back, out of my reach.

"Who knew you were hooking up with a stranger behind my back? You even lied about your name." He sneered, holding the phone up like evidence.

I tried reaching for my phone again when he shoved me with his shoulder. I ended up on the ground.

He began scrolling through my phone, his expression tightening with every second. "I can't believe you. You're such a pretentious liar."

"Give me my phone, Marcus." I warned.

"You want your phone?" His voice dropped, and I immediately knew I would hate whatever happened next.

He threw my phone across the room. It smacked against the wall heavily before falling to the ground.

I stared at the device, like I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Then the anger hit me like a wave, My fist swung before my brain could stop it.

Whatever happened next, I could not comprehend because I got so angry that I forgot I couldn't fight.