**Think It Through, Mate**
James pulled up at the petrol station and rolled down the window.
“Premium unleaded, full tank,” he said to the attendant before stepping out and heading toward the convenience store.
In the doorway, he nearly collided with another man. The stranger glanced at James’s face, then quickly looked back at his phone. “William?!” James almost called out but caught himself just in time. He walked inside, watching through the glass as his old friend climbed into a sleek black Mercedes. Hands trembling with excitement, James hurried to the till and handed the cashier his card.
By the time he got back outside, the Mercedes was merging onto the motorway. Without hesitation, James jumped into his Ford and sped off after it.
“Well, well. Fancy running into him. Looks like he’s doing all right for himself. Married well, has he? No matter—I’ll get to the bottom of this,” James muttered, keeping the Mercedes in sight.
The car eventually turned into an upscale gated community. When it stopped outside one of the grand houses, James drove past, watching in his rearview mirror. The gates swung open, and William’s car rolled through. James reversed cautiously, careful to avoid the security camera overhead.
Through the wrought-iron fence, he saw William park in front of the garage. A young woman stepped onto the porch, and even from a distance, James recognized her instantly.
“No bloody way,” he whispered.
She descended the steps and embraced William, sharing a kiss before they disappeared inside the house.
“So they’re married, and this is their home. How the hell did that happen? Revenge? But little Emily? The quiet one? And William—some friend he turned out to be. Could’ve been me in his place…”
***
The club was packed, the air thick with bass-heavy music and the glow of neon lights. James sat at the bar, sipping a cocktail while lazily watching the dancers. A tall girl in a tight red dress caught his eye. “Not bad,” he thought before turning away.
Before he could take another sip, a familiar voice made him look up.
“This is my mate, James,” William said, approaching with the same red-dressed girl clinging to his arm. “James, meet Olivia, my girlfriend.”
James gave her a slow once-over. Up close, she was even more striking—big eyes, dimpled cheeks, and glossy blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. A proper stunner.
“Like what you see?” William smirked.
“What are you drinking?” James asked, eyes still locked on Olivia.
“I’m driving. Lads, why don’t we go back to mine? Can’t hear a thing in here, and I could use a proper drink,” she suggested.
“Up for it?” William asked.
James drained his glass and stood.
Outside, the music faded into the night.
“Nice, isn’t she?” William gestured to the silver Jaguar parked nearby. “Olivia’s dad gave it to her for her birthday.” He winked, chest puffed with pride.
James glanced from the car to his friend. “How did *he* land someone like her?” William was decent-looking, sure, but nothing compared to him.
“You didn’t bring Emily?” William asked as they drove.
“Not feeling well. Morning sickness.” Mentioning her soured James’s mood instantly.
“Blimey! And you kept that quiet? Trying to skip the wedding?” William laughed.
James stayed silent. He didn’t want to talk about Emily.
The Jaguar stopped at a high-rise. They rode the mirrored lift to the sixteenth floor.
“This your place?” James whistled, taking in the lavish flat. “Where’d you meet her?” he whispered.
“In the street, believe it or not. Nearly ran me over,” William chuckled.
James kept pouring wine until William was properly sloshed. Olivia steered him to bed, then returned to find James studying a painting.
“That’s mine,” she said, stepping closer.
“Impressive. Ever paint people?”
“Painters *paint*, not sketch. But you’ve got a good frame. Ever posed nude?”
“Now?” James blinked.
“Not here. My studio. Leave your number—I’ll call when I’ve got time.”
At home, a tearful Emily greeted him.
“You’ve been drinking?”
“A bit. With William.”
“Hungry?”
“Nah. It’s nearly morning anyway. I’ll shower and sleep.” He shut the bathroom door behind him.
How had he landed in this mess? Emily was sweet, but pregnant? Wrong timing. Olivia, though—*she* was something else. But first, he had to deal with Emily. Under the spray of the shower, his mind raced.
He’d grown up poor, raised by a single mum. He wanted wealth, status—*now*. Olivia was the perfect shortcut. Her father was loaded. All he had to do was get rid of Emily.
Two days later, Olivia finally called, inviting him to her studio.
“*She* has a studio?” James marveled.
He arrived freshly groomed and cologned.
“Students rent the place in shifts. We’ve got two hours. Strip, or have you changed your mind?” Her tone was teasing.
James hesitated but complied.
Twenty minutes into holding the pose, he groaned. “Can I take a break?”
Olivia sighed, setting down her pencil. “Fine. I’ll make coffee.”
While she was gone, James peeked at the sketch. He tiptoed into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around her—and she turned into his embrace without hesitation.
He returned home triumphant. Emily was curled on the sofa, sniffling.
“What now?”
“You don’t love me anymore?”
“Here we go.”
“You’re never home!”
“Working my arse off for the baby! And saving for the wedding.”
“The… wedding?” Her face lit up.
“Course. Kid needs a mum and dad.”
Emily threw her arms around him. He hid his grimace.
“Why not stay with your nan for a while? Save on rent. I’ll crash with William. Call you every day. Three months, I’ll fetch you. Deal?”
“Promise?”
He didn’t expect her to agree so easily.
The next few days, he played the doting fiancé. He put her on the train, waving until she was out of sight.
Then he rang Olivia.
He never called Emily. Changed his number, moved in with Olivia.
William tried to confront him, but James was bigger—stronger.
Three months later, he married Olivia.
But the dream crumbled fast. Her father let the wedding happen but refused to hire him. Olivia, used to luxury, grew frustrated. One night, James hit her, jealous of an old friend.
The next day, her father was waiting. “Pack your things. Lawyers will handle the divorce. Cross me, and you’ll regret it.”
So James lost it all.
But he wasn’t done. Young girls never interested him—Emily and Olivia were lessons enough. Now, he targeted wealthy, independent women. He’d stalk society pages, then engineer “accidental” meetings. A lonely older woman would invite him home to tend his wounds…
Soon, he had a new car. One lover even gave him a flat—small, but his.
***
Now, sitting in his car outside William and Emily’s home, James seethed.
Had she sought William out for revenge? Was that *his* child being raised under another man’s name?
Or was it love? The way they’d kissed on the porch…
“I’ll think of something,” he muttered.
Then his phone rang.
“Where *are* you? I’ve missed you, darling,” crooned a woman’s voice.
James forced a laugh. “On my way, sweetheart.”
He tossed the phone aside like a dead snake.
“Sweetheart” was his wife—a woman twice his age. She lavished him with cars, cash, one condition: no cheating. If she caught him with a younger woman, she’d leave him with nothing.
“You’ve really done it this time,” James sighed, driving away. “But she’s not getting any younger. Just got to play it smart.”
He smirked.
*Money isn’t about having it—it’s about knowing how to use it.*
