Jaks was insufferable—arrogant, entitled, and born with a silver spoon so far down his throat it was a miracle he didn’t choke on it. Every encounter was a battle, every conversation laced with venom.

“You act like money makes you better than me,” You snapped, arms crossed as you glared at him.

He chuckled, slow and taunting, stepping closer. “No, I act like I’m better than you because I am.”