My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 204

Chapter 204 His Father Owns The Building

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The cold spring wind bit through my clothes. The air vanished from my lungs.

They cannot do that, my mother argued. Panic crept into her tone. She took a step toward him. ‘You signed a ten-year lease last summer. You pay the rent on time every single month. You run a clean business.”

They invoked a hidden clause in the contract. Pete explained. He rubbed his face with a trembling hand. They possess the right to terminate the agreement for major structural renovations. They plan to gut the entire building. They sent a private security team to lock the back alley doors an hour ago. If I attempt to open the front security grate, they will call the police and charge me with trespassing.”

“But the shifts,” my mother pleaded. Her voice grew desperate. “I need the morning shifts, Pete. My rent is due next week. Raisa lost her scholarship funding. We need the paycheck.”

Pete looked down at the cracked concrete. “I am sorry, Maria. The diner is gone. I lost my life savings. I lack the funds to pay severance checks. I lack the funds to hire a corporate lawyer to fight the eviction in court. We are finished.”

One of the line cooks tossed his cigarette into the street. “We need to find new jobs today. Good luck, Maria.”

The two cooks turned and walked away down the block. They left us standing alone with Pete on the cold sidewalk.

My mother let out a jagged, broken breath. She dropped her travel mug. The ceramic hit the concrete and shattered into a dozen pieces. The dark coffee spilled across the pavement, pooling in the cracks. She covered her mouth with her hands. Her shoulders shook. The tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracking down her pale cheeks.

She devoted ten years of her life to this small diner. She scrubbed the vinyl booths. She memorized the orders of the regular customers. She built her survival around the predictable routine of the morning rush. She endured the aching joints and the relentless exhaustion to provide a stable foundation for my future.

In a single morning, someone wiped her entire foundation away.

My stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. The memory of the sleek black town car flooded my mind. Arthur Steinmann sat in the shadows and promised to dismantle her life. He promised to leave us with nothing but the concrete beneath our boots. He promised 1 would beg for his massive check.

I needed to see the paper in Pete’s hand.

“Pete,” I said. I stepped forward. My voice sounded hollow in my own ears. Let me read the eviction notice.”

Pete did not argue. He handed me the crisp white sheet.

I gripped the edges of the paper. My fingers felt numb from the cold air. I focused on the typed text. The complex legal jargon filled the page, citing municipal building codes and property liabilities. The words lacked any trace of human empathy. They represented pure, calculated destruction. They dismantled twenty years of hard work with a few paragraphs of ink.

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Chapter 204 His Father Owns The Building

I moved my eyes to the top of the page.

The letterhead featured a bold, black corporate logo. A stylized geometric hexagon. Apex Holdings and Property Management.

I recognized the design. I saw the exact same geometric logo stamped on a leather portfolio sitting inside the black town car last night.

I moved my eyes to the bottom of the page. The fine print sat below the landlord’s signature line.

Apex Holdings is a subsidiary of the Steinmann Corporate Group.

The printed letters blurred. The world tilted on its axis. The roaring sound of blood rushed in my ears.

The retaliation arrived.

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Arthur Steinmann owned the real estate management company. He owned the concrete block that housed Pete’s Diner. He owned the very

ground we stood on.

1 rejected his massive check twelve hours ago. I chose my pride. I walked out of his luxury vehicle and declared war. I believed I possessed the strength to fight the billionaire patriarch on my own terms. I believed my brilliant mind offered a shield against his immense wealth.

I failed to understand the devastating scope of his power. He did not fight with fists in a parking lot. He fought with legal documents and corporate buyouts. He identified the single pillar holding my life together, and he smashed it into dust before the sun came up. He required zero effort to ruin us. He just needed to make one phone call to a property manager.

My mother sobbed. The sound tore through the quiet street, sharp and desperate. She collapsed onto the wooden bench sitting beneath the diner awning. She buried her face in her hands.

“What do we do?’ she cried. Her voice broke. “I lack a college degree. I possess no savings account. We will lose the house, Raisa. We will

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