Chapter 143

“Those breakfast muffins I got you cost more than this chump change, Quintessa. Can you be any cheaper?”

Tyrone pinched the two coins in his hand, wishing he could just crush them.

The door remained silent. Quintessa was making it clear–she wasn’t going to open up.

“You just wait,” Tyrone growled. “Those muffins weren’t cheap. Make sure you pay me back next time.”

With a furious huff, he turned on his heel.

As he passed the trash bin, he was tempted to chuck the coins into it–forget the tip, did he look like a man who needed spare change?

much force. Instead of landing in the bin, the coins ricocheted out, clinking

disdain. Who needs ‘em, anyway?

walked into the elevator, and just as the doors

a scowl plastered on his face, stepped

the coins from the ground and pocketed them. As a decent citizen, you don’t just throw away

subjecting himself to such misery. He must have been

home and ran into his mother, who

son! What on earth happened to you? When’s the last time you slept? You

Tyrone snapped, “I got used and

“You? Got used and kicked? Good heavens!”

knew her son well; he was no pushover, and to hear he’d been

asked sarcastically, “What, you’re happy

cleared her throat, “Ahem, of course not. Are you

played for

probably despised him from the bottom of her heart, yet he’d confidently charged forward like a

you’ve

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