Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 447

The Next Day

Early the next morning, after sharing breakfast with his grandfather, Adrian climbed into the waiting car and called his mother.

“Mom, you promised—you’ll pick me up tonight, right?”

He only hung up once she gave her word. When the car pulled up to school, Adrian told the driver, “You don’t need to come back for me tonight. My mom will pick me up.”

“Yes, young master.”

After the car drove off, Adrian strode confidently into the school, his navy-blue uniform crisp and spotless. As soon as he stepped into the classroom, a cluster of classmates surrounded him, chattering away.

Before long, the teacher arrived.

As usual, she singled Adrian out for praise, reminding everyone that he’d scored first in last month’s exams and encouraging the rest of the class to follow his example, especially with finals just around the corner.

After a long morning of lessons, it was finally time for PE.

Adrian was one of those rare kids who excelled both academically and athletically. Naturally, he was the center of a group that gathered to shoot hoops during the break. The game got heated, sweat pouring down their faces, and when Adrian went to wash up at the sink, he caught voices from around the corner.

“What’s Adrian so smug about, anyway?”

“Yeah, so what if he gets good grades and plays sports? He’s still just a nobody—dad’s dead, mom doesn’t want him, total loser! What’s he got to brag about?”

“Like we actually like him. He struts around like he owns the place.”

“Keep your voice down! What if he hears you?”

“So what if he does? I’m not scared—ah!”

A basketball came flying out from the shadows, slamming into the wall right by their heads. Adrian stepped into view, face expressionless, eyes cold as he stared at the group—some of whom were usually his friends. His voice was icy: “What did you just say?”

They all shrank back, no one daring to answer. At last, the boy in the middle—rubbing his head—stepped forward, glaring at Adrian.

“Did you just throw that at me, Adrian?”

“I said what I said. It’s the truth, isn’t it? Your dad’s dead—”

He didn’t even finish. Adrian lunged, kicking him to the ground and pinning him, fists flying. He’d been trained by his grandfather, and none of the other kids could pull him off. In the scuffle, a few of them caught stray punches and ran off, screaming.

The fight devolved into a wild brawl.

The other boy—Parker—wasn’t one to back down. He fought back, fists swinging, shouting at Adrian as they struggled.

“You’re just a reject—nobody wants you! Even if your dad was alive, your parents would’ve left you anyway. My dad says you’re just bad luck, that you’re the reason your dad’s dead—”

Adrian’s face barely flickered at the words. If anything, his eyes only grew darker as he hammered his fists down, silent and relentless.

Blood spattered.

Soon Parker was reduced to a whimpering heap.

Finally, a teacher burst onto the scene, yanking the boys apart and hauling them to the nurse’s office. When the dust settled, she rounded on them furiously: