Page 263 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

I don’t know where she came from, but she’s monitoring me for a reason.

Why is she trying to rat me out? What’s her fucking purpose for coming all the way to North America now? Did Mikayla hire her? No… I heard the admins wanted another intern specializing in social media.

They could have gotten someone in Canada.

Heck, they could have hired all those obsessed puck bunny bitches to come and take a few photos and make us look good.

Why did they have to hire someone as nosey and smart as this Iris chick?

If she wasn’t trying to fuck up my life, I would have found her attractive.

Not like anyone has come into my life and replaced what I had with Mikayla.

Still have.

Our connection was everything, and I bet you if I went into her hospital room and had the opportunity to talk to her one on one, she’d get me.

Even though she wouldn’t support my actions.

That’s what was always missing in our relationship.

Mikayla could love a villain if she had to, but she’d never tolerate the wrongs a villain committed in the shadows. She wouldn’t stand up for me against the world, so I’d have a fighting chance of competing with those who wished for nothing but my demise.

She was too good.

Too loyal to the right causes and wouldn’t take shortcuts to get where she wants to be.

A shame…

Then there was this Iris chick.

Puck bunny photographer who somehow managed to score such a position to build our social platforms so we have even more exposure.

It’s clear she has favorites.

The Vipers have been soaring whenever she posts clips of their gameplay on TikTok and other platforms. Compared to our team, whose TikTok and other content barely went viral, each post got a hundred thousand to a whooping one million views in twenty-four hours.

We can barely reach ten thousand.

It had to be on purpose, for some odd reason, but the recent video she posted blew the fuck out.

Sixty million views and counting.

I wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

It gave me the perfect alibi to ensure the fire wasn’t pinned on me, and thanks to Dad’s connections to the phone company, he was able to convince them to get rid of my phone account and give me a brand new one before it was confiscated by police.

As if they would even check it.

You’d think after all these years, I’d have my own set of connections, so I wouldn’t have to rely on my father for shit.

Like Damien Owens.

That rich foreign fucker who can get people to bow at his feet with a mere look or pull off one phone call and get first dibs in the housing market.

That house he and Maddox managed to snag was supposed to be mine.

I’d disguised my offer by using a realtor to do my dirty work to secure the place as an investment, then I would have pulled some strings with the banks and gotten approved.

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