Shane sat at the computer, debating whether to reply right away.
No way. That would look desperate.
In an online flame war, the first one to lose their cool already lost half the battle. The post was still climbing in likes, which meant the heat was still building. He let the corners of his mouth curl up. Let the haters have their little victory lap. Let them think he was hiding under the covers, shaking in his boots.
That same pressure would keep his supporters hooked and bring in even more rubberneckers. Exactly the kind of slow-burn anticipation that turned into real traffic. In a few days, when everyone was convinced he was a coward, he'd drop a video—loud, cocky, and straight to the point.
He wasn't turning this into some South Side street brawl. He was going to make it a clean, clinical demolition of the local "star." One video, one workout, one look at the numbers, and every rumor would die on its own.
Shane stared at the profile pic on screen. "Clown? Nah, bro. Right now you're my personal ATM."
The next morning, Sunday, Shane rolled up to Karen's house just before nine.
---
Knock knock knock.
Sheila opened the door.
"Morning, Aunt Sheila."
"Morning, Shane. Come on in."
She stepped aside, then hurried straight back to the dining table where Shane's laptop sat open beside a fresh cup of coffee.
Shane kicked off his shoes and walked over. Sheila pointed at the screen, eyes bright. "Look, last night a few clients asked about diet stuff. I used your templates and one of them upgraded to a bigger package on the spot!"
Shane nodded, genuinely impressed. "Nice work, Aunt Sheila. Told you you had a knack for this."
Since she'd started the job, the nervous edge she usually carried had faded. Busy people didn't have time to spiral.
Footsteps came down the stairs—Karen, still in pajamas, practically bouncing. She launched herself into Shane's arms like a koala, then immediately pulled back with a full-on pout.
"What's wrong?" Shane cupped her face.
"Eddie's being a dick again," she said, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "He's trying to drag me to that stupid church thing. Says it'll 'cleanse my soul.' I told him I'm not going. Every time those creepy old guys stare at me like I'm dessert."
"Then don't go," Shane answered without hesitation. "You've got bigger plans today, remember? I promised you something."
Karen blinked, then lit up. "The car?"
"Yep. The car."
She was about to say something else when Eddie's voice boomed from the top of the stairs.
"Karen! You're not going anywhere today!"
He stomped down holding a Bible, face already red. The second he saw them tangled together his eye twitched.
"Karen, go get dressed. We're going to be late. This is for your own good."
Shane let go of Karen and met Eddie's glare head-on. "She's not going to any church. I'm taking her to buy a car. I promised."
"A car?" Eddie laughed, short and ugly. "What kind of car can you afford? A toy one?" He turned back to Karen. "Listen. You come with me today, behave yourself, and next month—no, next week—I'll think about getting you that used Civic you wanted. But—"
Shane cut him off clean. "Wow. Real power move. So you can parade your perfect little daughter in front of your church buddies? Or is this about trading her attendance for some favor downtown?"
"Shut your mouth!" Eddie snapped, finger jabbing toward Shane. "This is my house!"
He swung back to Karen. "You hear me? Church or no car. Not a dime."
Shane slid an arm around Karen's shoulders and pulled her in. "She doesn't need your money or your shitty car. I'm buying it. Today."
"You're buying it? Who the hell do you think you are?"
Eddie's voice cracked. All the frustration he'd been swallowing for days finally boiled over. He pointed at the door. "Get the fuck out of my house. Now!"
Sheila, who had stayed quiet at the table until now, suddenly stood up. "No, Eddie." She walked between the two men and looked her husband straight in the eye. "The house is in my name. Don't talk to Shane like that."
Eddie stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "What did you just say? Sheila, are you out of your mind? You're siding with an outsider?"
"He's not an outsider."
Sheila took a shaky breath. "Shane gave me a real job, Eddie. I'm making money now. I'm actually useful. I finally feel like a person instead of a piece of furniture in this house. You don't get to kick him out."
"You—you—" Eddie's mouth worked but nothing came out. The betrayal hit him like a gut punch.
His daughter was rebelling. His wife had turned. All because of this South Side kid standing in front of him.
While Eddie was still reeling, Karen leaned out of Shane's arms and delivered the killing blow.
"Stop preaching about purity, Dad," she said coldly, eyes glittering with payback. "I've already done everything with Shane. Every position you can think of. I haven't been your little virgin for a long time. Your rules? They don't mean shit compared to how warm his sheets are."
The words landed like a bomb.
Eddie's face went purple. "You—you little—"
He lost it completely. "You filthy whore! And you, you little bastard!"
He charged, fist swinging straight for Shane's face.
Shane didn't even flinch. He caught Eddie's wrist, twisted, and shoved. Eddie stumbled backward, tripped over his own feet, and crashed into the stair railing.
Dead silence.
Eddie panted, face twisted with rage and humiliation. He looked at Shane, then at Karen pressed against his side, then at Sheila standing in front of them like a shield.
The three of them looked more like a family than he ever had.
"Fine," Eddie spat. "Real nice. You've got money now, huh? Wings are strong. Don't need me anymore? Great!"
He jabbed a finger at Sheila and Karen. "Don't expect me to pay another goddamn bill in this nuthouse. You two can figure it out yourselves. I'm done!"
He stormed upstairs. A minute later he came back down with a bulging duffel bag, grabbed whatever else he could carry, and headed for the door.
At the threshold he looked back one last time.
Shane was murmuring something to Karen. Sheila rubbed her daughter's back, speaking softly.
The picture was warmer, tighter, more real than anything Eddie had managed in fifteen years.
Made him look like the intruder.
"Fuck all of you," he snarled, and slammed the door so hard the frame shook.
The sound of his car peeling away faded down the street.
The house went quiet again.
Sheila sank into a chair like someone had cut her strings, eyes glassy. Karen's shoulders shook.
Shane rubbed Karen's back, then looked at Sheila. "Hey. It's okay. He's just pissed he lost control of the room. This is still your house. Everything stays the same. Eddie might come to his senses. Even if he doesn't, you two are gonna be fine. I promise."
Sheila wiped her eyes and nodded, then turned back to the laptop. "Right. I've got work to do. These emails won't answer themselves."
Shane kissed the top of Karen's head. "Go get dressed, babe. Don't let this ruin our day."
"We're buying a car."