Chapter 1
Ever since I was a kid, I’d been a menace.
I got expelled from college for fighting, spent my days loafing around, starting trouble, and driving my parents’ blood pressure through the roof. Eventually they reached their limit, pooled their savings, bought me a secondhand apartment, and kicked me out so they could finally have some peace.
I moved in feeling freer than I had in years and already wondering what kind of fun I could stir up next.
Then the people across the hall delivered themselves to me like a gift.
That was when I realized I’d run into a whole family of bastards.
And for the first time in a long time, I was thrilled.
Because I might have been a bastard too, but I was better at it.
At first, it started small. They kept piling garbage bags outside their door and leaving them there for days until building staff finally got so fed up they hauled the mess away themselves. I ignored it at first. But one Sunday morning I opened my door and nearly gagged.
The hallway reeked.
Whatever they had in those bags had gone past rotten. It smelled like somebody had left eggs to die in the sun.
I saw red and started pounding on their door.
A woman answered.
I said, “Move your trash.”
She looked me up and down and snapped, “Who do you think you are?”
The second I heard her tone, I knew exactly what kind of people I was dealing with.
I smiled.
Then I bent down, grabbed the garbage bag, and flung it right into their apartment.
She screamed like I’d set the place on fire and immediately started cursing me out. A second later her husband came stomping over, some greasy fat guy with yellow teeth and murder in his eyes. Without a word, he stormed into the kitchen and came back with a cleaver.
For one brief moment, even I almost got nervous.
But only almost.
I leaned my neck forward and said, “Go ahead. Swing. What, you can’t? Then don’t act tough.”
He got so mad I really thought he might do it.
His wife must have realized I wasn’t normal either, because she rushed to hold him back, screaming in my face the whole time. I screamed right back. I unleashed twenty years’ worth of filth, every insult I’d ever learned, and gave them all of it.
Then my dog came out barking.
The man lifted the cleaver and shouted that he’d kill the mutt too.
So I scooped my dog into my arms, stepped closer, and told him to try.
That was the moment I stopped being angry and started getting interested.
Later that day I found out from one of the aunties downstairs that the husband owned a flower, bird, and pet shop, the wife sold clothes, and they were doing pretty well for themselves. That oversized SUV always parked in the entrance lane? The Toyota Land Cruiser?
Theirs.
I thanked the auntie, acted like I was over it, and walked away.
But by then I had already decided.
Finding a worthy opponent wasn’t easy.
And I was going to enjoy ruining them.