Her Ex Nemesis Billionaire

No matter if you are a pessimist or an optimist, Derek Esposito’s life wasn’t a good one nor a bad one. It was just a mediocre insignificant existence.

His father was a bipolar abusive man, capable of disappearing is his bedroom for days during the depressive phase. He would wake up only to eat, use the bathroom and the occasional "let’s make your life miserable" fit of rage.

During his euphoric phase, he would work like a madman, but not having any talent either as a businessman nor as social climber, he was unable to both being successful and establishing the right connections.

In his natural state, whenever he decided to actually take his medications, he was just a coach potato that would stand up and go to work just to avoid the blame and spite from neighbours and peers.

Whatever was his mental condition, he always was a perfect example of an abusive father.

His sons were always a disgrace in his eyes.

They never studied hard enough, never were disciplined enough, nor did show enough respect.

And he was always there to remember them how wrong they were.

He would yell at them for the slightest mistake, constantly reminding them that they were just parasites that leeched off his hard work.

And when words weren’t enough or when they did fail to meet his expectation with school grades or chores, there was no teacher like his leather belt.

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Hence, Derek and Carl had to quickly learn how to fend off for themselves, since their absent-minded mother practically forgot about them right after giving birth, dedicating her life in pursue of peace and quiet, staying as far as possible from her spouse tantrums.

Derek was two years older, and desperately tried to take care of his little brother, but to no avail.

They grew up watching and reading stories about heroes protecting the weak and upholding justice. But no hero ever appeared to save them.

Every week they would be forced to go to church to worship a nondescript benevolent god and his son, the saviour of all mankind. But no matter how much they prayed or how good they were, no miracle occurred.

So, they simply stopped believing in heroes and instead of wasting time with prayers they crammed.

School was their only oasis, but that lasted only until the sixth grade.

Once in middle school, it didn’t even take a month before the bullying started.

Their cheap clothes and gloomy disposition made them the easiest targets. They were so used being tossed around and insulted that they didn’t even bother trying to fight back.

For a long time, Derek had considered it the worst moment in his useless life. After a month, he knew he could not take any more of that, so he tried to make things better.

He reported his father’s abuses to the social services with an anonymous email, but being overworked and understaffed the social work assistant made a brief visit and never came back.

Then he tried to end the bullying by reporting their aggressors to a teacher, which in turn washed her hands by reporting it to the principal. The principal did not want to meddle with what he deemed as childish pranks, so he called Derek’s parents to inform them of the problem, hoping they would let it slide. And at least his wish came true.

Derek, instead, took and extra beating for not being man enough to face his own problems.

"Are you really that stupid to never learn anything from me? Never delegate, if you want something done right, do it yourself!"

Derek had never felt so helpless and desperate, so that night he bawled his eyes out, until he fell asleep. That had been the last straw.

The next day he felt different, clearheaded like never before. It was not the time for despair anymore, he needed a plan.

It would take him years to realize that something inside him had died. He was no longer able to trust, hope or develop any sense of kinship. He was surrounded by enemies, and to survive Derek needed to be able to fight back.

So, Derek asked his father to let him join a dojo and learn martial arts, and to his surprise he did not have to beg or even ask twice. His old man was glad that his wimpy and scrawny poor excuse of a child was finally interested in becoming a man. His only condition was that Derek was not allowed to quit for at least one year, otherwise he would have to pay for it.

Not only Derek started practicing aikido almost daily, he would also wake up two hours earlier every single day to build muscles doing push ups, squats, sit ups and running until he was out of breath.

In a few months he was finally able to do every day 100 push ups, sit ups and squats and run for at least 10 kilometres before going to school.

Aikido soon revealed to be a perfect choice for his situation. At low level was mainly focused on self defence but there plenty of space for attacking and fighting dirty.

By practicing martial arts, he finally discovered something he was good at. He was not particularly nimble, nor a fast learner. His hand to eye coordination was also average at best. His talent lied in the ability to spot the best time to hit a sensible spot during a block or a defensive manoeuvre.

Even when the sensei was teaching sword or tanto arts, Derek was always able to grasp the killing moves at his first try, sometimes even before the sensei completed the practical demonstration.

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