Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir by Ryker Helios

Chapter 10

10. The Card Belongs to me!

For a moment, I am confused.

Of course, the card belonged to Jace Greyson. That shouldn’t create any issues, because my frickin name is Jace Greyson. Had Coraline hit her head somewhere? Was that the reason why she was acting so goddamned strange today?

“I knew that you were up to something sketchy,” Coraline goes on to say, “This card is clearly not yours, you have stolen it from somebody. Who did you steal from? Do you know how much these cards are worth?”

“What? I didn’t steal it, because that’s my card, and that’s my name,” I insist, “I’m Jace Greyson!”

The waiter looks in between us, and his brows furrow, “Sir,” he addresses me, “this is a very valuable card, and the miss’s claim is a serious offense. I don’t think I can let you go. We thought you were wealthy upon your initial reaction to our mistake, but now I’m starting to think that it isn’t the case.”

Why, the gall…

I step forward and grab the card from Coraline’s hand, making her yelp, and read the name on the card.

Jace Greyson.

What was she so confused about?

And then it hits me

I wasn’t Jace Greyson always. When I was in high school, my surname was different. Instead of using my father’s surname, I was using my mother’s surname. It was only after graduating that I changed my name to what I was using now.

me as Jace Pastor.

circumstances of my name which I do not want to reveal to anyone, so I decide to keep it simple, “In high school, I was using my

ordinary person can get their kid a

sigh, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to

his hands, “I’m just going to let you two

me in the parking lot with

not now,” Coraline seethes, “You’re clearly a thief. I thought you were better than

could see the truth when they see it,” I snap back, “Also, don’t act like

stole that card from someone rich,” she takes out her phone from the purse slung across her shoulder, “I

far!” I screech, not fancying the idea of getting entangled in

to find a solution for this. All around us, the twilight was turning to night. More and more vehicles come to park in the restaurant parking lot, and music starts to come from the

nothing I won’t do more than for her to leave me

a particularly good one, in fact, I do not

“Look, I got

listening. What is this great idea you’ve conjured

I loathe to do this,” I sigh, “But

“What?”

who I really am,” I reply, “I’ll call my driver now

me, “You want me

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