Chapter 4 The Spencer Boys‘ Rival
With a burning fever, Jesse’s body shook violently as she staggered out of the Spencer Residence. She couldn’t stay a moment longer.
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She felt the chill of the night air slam into her, sending her head spinning. Her steps wavered, and when she stepped past the corner, headlights suddenly blazed across the road.
Tires shrieked against the asphalt as a Lamborghini swerved to a halt, the bumper stopping just inches from her shoes.
“Tsk. Walking around like you’ve got a death wish?”
As the tinted window rolled down, a face she instantly recognized came into view–handsome, sharp, and infuriatingly smug.
The man wore a tailored charcoal suit, every line of his features cut clean and cold. His lips curled into a flat, mocking line that all but warned her to keep her distance.
Jesse cast him a weary glance before her knees buckled, and she crumpled right before the car.
“Don’t tell me this is some scam. What now, Little Princess?”
The man stepped out, a cigarette between his lips, crouched in front of her with a crooked smile.
Lyman Houston.
He had been the Spencer boys‘ sworn enemy since childhood.
The Spencer kids were praised as talented, but next to Lyman, they consistently fell short. He was that golden boy every parent bragged about–good–looking, brilliant, arrogant as hell, and dazzling enough to make everyone else seem invisible.
The worst part? Jesse and her brothers were constantly compared to him. At home, it was always the same line–Why couldn’t they be more like Lyman?
That kind of thing could really get under a person’s skin, especially for boys. Pride ran deep, and after being told they were never good enough one too many times, the Spencer boys came to hate him with a passion.
Once, they even tried to take him on together–five against one. Lyman broke them apart one by one, knocked them flat, then stepped on Edward’s face as he left. He even called them trash.
That was the spark that ignited their lifelong rivalry.
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Even now, with nothing but a wall separating their homes, the feud was as bitter as ever. Lyman had them beat in every way. He crushed Edward and Corey in business, left Andrew and Kaleb choking on his dust in academics, and humiliated Mike so badly in a taekwondo match that he never dared compete again.
Since childhood, Jesse had been warned repeatedly: Stay away from him. He’s cold, arrogant, and dangerous.
She used to listen and believe her brothers knew best.
Now, the irony almost made her laugh.
“Wake up, Little Princess. What’s wrong? Brothers go broke, so now you’re out here running scams?” Lyman drawled.
Jesse forced her eyes open. His annoyingly perfect face swam in her vision. Her voice came out hoarse. “Yeah, they’re broke. Completely broke. Just… take me to the hospital.”
Lyman asked, “Seriously? You think I’m that gullible? Why should I bother?”
“You don’t have to.” Her voice was faint. “Push me aside if you want. Just don’t drag me back to that house.”
Her strength vanished. She shut her eyes and blacked out.
When Jesse woke again, the sterile white ceiling told her she was in a hospital.
Lyman lounged across the room, slumped on the couch with one ankle propped over his knee, his phone in hand. His looks were unfair, like some sculptor had chiseled him out of marble, but his expression remained the same arrogant, untouchable smirk.
The moment she stirred, his gaze flicked over.
“You ran around with a 104°F fever. D*mn, you’re tougher than you look.” He tilted his head, mocking. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just burst into flames on the sidewalk.”
Jesse thought, Still the same jerk.
Her throat burned raw. She couldn’t even answer, so she just glared at him.
That just made him grin even wider. He nodded toward the side table. “Soup. Go ahead, before it gets cold.”
Her eyes shifted, and there it was–a steaming bowl of chicken soup.
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Her nose stung. Last time, I went through hell for three days straight, and nobody even reached out–no water, no meds, nothing. Yet here I am now, and it’s the Spencers‘ biggest enemy sitting across from me… with chicken soup.
With trembling hands, Jesse sat up straight and took a spoonful. The warmth spread down her throat, banishing the chill in her chest.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Lyman arched a brow. His smirk sharpened. “Five hundred a bowl. Pay up when you’re done.” He shoved his phone at her, payment screen open.
Jesse froze. “I don’t have any money.”
Lyman threw his head back in mock shock. “Seriously? Don’t tell me you’re planning to freeload off me.”
His smirk was pure provocation. The idea of the Spencer family’s pampered princess claiming she was broke? No sane person would buy that.
Truth was, she was flat broke. As a sophomore, she spent all her time cleaning up after her brothers, with no chance to work and no time to herself.
Corey was the one who gave her allowance, but every time Taylor cried, that money dwindled away until it vanished completely. If the Spencers hadn’t taken care of her, she probably would’ve gone without food, and none of them would’ve even known.
“I drag you out of the street, and now I’m footing your hospital bill too?” Lyman shot her a look that said loud and clear, What a joke. You really think you can con me?
Embarrassment heated Jesse’s face. She scratched her palm, mumbling, “Why don’t you give me your WhatsApp? I’ll pay you back once I actually have money.”
They had just exchanged contacts as the hospital door flew open.
Mike barged in, fury written all over his face. “Jesse! Taylor was right. You really went and hooked up with this jerk?”
Jesse’s expression turned to ice.
“She’s in a hospital, not a hotel,” Lyman drawled without looking up. “What’s with the tone–like she’s guilty of some affair?”
Mike shot back, “I’m talking to my sister. Stay out of it!”
“If you hadn’t mentioned she was your sister, I’d think you despised her,” Lyman fired back. “She has a 104°F fever, got kicked out of her house, ended up in the hospital, and all you do is
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yell at her? Shouldn’t you be grateful to the guy who saved her?”
Mike stiffened. Guilt flickered across his face, but pride buried it quickly.
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“She didn’t tell anyone! She ran off by herself!” he barked, then spun on Jesse. “Why can’t you learn a thing or two from Taylor? You’re sick, then say it! You’re not a kid anymore–get your own food instead of pulling these stunts and making us look like fools in front of him!”
His voice dripped with annoyance, like she had embarrassed him just by being there.
Jesse’s reply was razor–sharp. “I was in bed. You dragged me out. I had a 104°F fever, and you didn’t even notice.”
Mike’s stomach twisted. He remembered touching her earlier, thinking she’d just overheated under the blankets.
Jesse saw his glance at Lyman and smiled bitterly. Pride mattered more to Mike than anything. He would rather die than look weak in front of his rival.
“I’m not a mind reader,” Mike snapped. “You’ve got a mouth, don’t you?”
Jesse’s smirk turned cold. “Not a mind reader? Funny. Taylor frowns once, and you’re already at her side with candy.”
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