“Oh?” Kenzo’s tone takes on an amused tone. “Do tell me why. Besides, wasn’t breaking his fingers enough?”
“Because there’s something off about him, I just can’t put my finger on it. And no, I’ll only be satisfied when he drops dead.”
“Is it the fact that he’s everything you’re not?” Kenzo asks, with a flat tone. I know the idiot good enough to know he isn’t trying to insult me, but he needs to work on his bluntness. “Is it because he’s exactly the soft, gentle man she needs, and not the brute you are?”
“Fuck off, whose side are you on?”
“No one’s,” he snorts. “Both of you are idiots.”
“You’re getting on my last nerve.”
He raises his hands in surrender, though the amusement doesn’t falter from his expression. He looks ahead into the cafe, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly.
“I’ve heard something interesting,” Kenzo says. “Sophia’s been looking for a bag for a while now. It’s some unique, limited-edition bullshit, and our prince Charming here hasn’t had much luck finding it for her.”
My ears perk up. “Do you happen to know which bag?”
“No, why the fuck would I know that?” He rolls his eyes. “But I can ask Grace.”
“Well, go on then.”
He blinks a few times. “You mean, right now?”
“No, I think it’d be best if you waited approximately seventy years, and I could find it so Sophia could get buried with it,” I groan. “Yes, right now.”
“No need to be so grumpy, relax.” He rolls his eyes, but pulls his phone out nonetheless, typing out a quick message. Silence falls inside the car, the engine still running, and after a couple of minutes, the response comes.
Kenzo turns the phone around, showing me the bag, and I lift a brow. Not only is it hard to find, but the price is quite hefty, too. Nonetheless, I know for a fact I’ll be able to find one. I make a mental note of the bag, then decide it’s a problem for tomorrow to solve.
“They’re leaving,” Kenzo mumbles, and my eyes snap to the cafe yet again.
Damien has his hand around her shoulder, and the sight itself makes my blood boil. However, I pause dead in my tracks, eyes widening when I realize what the fuck is happening.
The two of them walk to the front counter, chatting, laughing, and engaging in a conversation with the worker behind the bar. Then, as if this couldn’t get any more bizarre, it’s Sophia who pulls out her card to pay.
I can’t help the laugh that comes from me. “Unbelievable.”
“If he can’t pay for a coffee, I highly doubt he’s actually looking for this bag,” Kenzo says, and his words mirror my thoughts.
“I have never had a woman pay anything for me. Not a date, or a coffee.”
“Obviously,” Kenzo drawls out. “I’d rather shit in my own hands and clap than ever have a woman spend her money on me.”
This is probably one of the reasons Kenzo and I get along so well. When I get married one day, my wife won’t have to lift a single fucking finger. If she wants to work and earn money, that’s her choice, but all that money will be spent solely on her. What kind of a rich man am I if I can’t provide for my family?
“What a joke,” I snort. “I cannot believe she actually paid for hiscoffee.”
“What’s the plan now, boss?” Kenzo mocks.
My eyes follow as Sophia and Damien leave the cafe, and if this wasn’t bad enough, I’m so dumbfounded that I’m struggling to comprehend what I’m seeing. They go their separate ways, with Sophia entering the backseat of the car that’s owned by her family. It just means she called for a driver to take her here, and the bastard is going to his own fucking car. They came from the same university, and he couldn’t even drive her?
“You know what?” I scoff in disbelief. “I was thinking of going easy on him, and perhaps not being as violent. But now, I have a different plan.”
“Not you and your plans,” Kenzo groans, face falling into his hands as he shakes his head. “What is it?”
“Killing him.”
Kenzo looks up from his hands, baffled. “Excuse me?”
