Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Chapter 94
*Janie*
After almost losing what little mind I had left dealing with that Jessica person, I headed back upstairs to cool off. That, and I could feel the shakes coming on, and there was no way I was going to let her see me like that. It was bad enough that she was here during the worst time of my life; no need to give her more to gloat over.
I’d torn the stupid piece of paper she waved around in my face in half, only to have her laugh at me and claim that that was just a copy, and she’d be more than happy to show me the original once I calmed down.
Once back in my room, I searched for and found my phone, which had been fully charged, thank heavens because there was one thing I needed to do before I blacked out from withdrawals, something I haven’t had to worry about in a long while, not since I’d hooked Ryder and his money had kept me supplied with everything I needed.
That feeling of drowning in dark water tried to creep up on me again, but I pushed it back the best I could. My hate and anger at the thing downstairs and the little bitch that was hell-bent on destroying my life gave me the energy I needed.
I wouldn’t have remembered her name, but the contract she’d waved in my face had it written, so it was easy. I googled the name, expecting nothing. I wanted nothing more than to go back down there and laugh in her stupid face because I was sure that she was putting on airs in front of me with nothing to back it up.
Even though her clothes and shoes were the real thing, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have found them at some consignment shop, or maybe the little bitch had given her some money for tormenting me. Those were my thoughts and my hopes as I typed in her name. I almost fell over when she was the first person to come up in the search engine.
Not only was there mention of the interview she’d done years ago before all this had happened, but her credentials and stats were front and center. “An investment banker? How? SHE MAKES ALMOST FOUR MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR?” That can’t be possible, can it? She’s about my age, she came from nothing… how?
I almost went back downstairs to ask her, to force her somehow to tell me that it was not true, but instead, I kept reading. She’d graduated early and went on to Wharton, where she caught the attention of her professors and peers with her business savvy. She started trading stocks as soon as she was old enough to work and handle her own money, dragging her family out of the slums they’d been used to for generations.
It was all there in black and white, and still, I couldn’t believe it. How could someone like her be doing as well as all this? I scrolled back to the interview she’d done, where she’d talked about me and how I’d terrorized her as soon as she gained entrance to the school.
I felt a bit smug that even with all that, she’d had to mention my name for props, but as it turns out, it was the reporter who’d made the connection and brought up the question of whether or not our paths had crossed while attending.
Jessica hadn’t held back, and I can almost imagine the sneer on her face as she retold the story of my bullying days. It was the reporter as well who’d mentioned the fact that I had dropped out to pursue my modeling career, and that bitch downstairs had only said, ‘Oh really, I didn’t know that; I don’t keep up with her and her ilk, though I do recall she wasn’t there my last year.’
I wanted to tear her hair out at the roots and…. Wait, her last year? Did she really graduate at fifteen? She would’ve had to because I left at fourteen. How did I not know that she was that bright? Now, I want to run and hide.
I felt small, belittled, like the nobody I was before Ryder. I hate that feeling and never thought or imagined it could happen again. How am I supposed to face her knowing what I know now?
It would’ve been fine had she only come into money because of whatever the hell it was she had going on here with my latest nemesis, but from the looks of things, she’d been doing quite well for a very long time. It was depressing to think about, so I didn’t. But that led my mind down another path.
If she’s that rich, why the hell is she here? There could only be one answer to that question. Payback. She was here for the sole purpose of making me suffer for the hell that I had put her through. What is it with people wanting to make me pay? They act as though I’m the first and last person to ever do the things I did. Like no one else fights for what they want by any means necessary.