I snapped my head back and saw a man with a thick gold chain around his neck, a leather briefcase tucked under his arm like it was an accessory.

My eyes widened. "Who are you?"

Before I could say more, he suddenly straddled me and started slapping me hard across the face, left and right. "You little brat! I didn't painstakingly raise you all these years being a butcher just for you not to recognize your father!

"Call me Dad, then apologize to Mabel!"

He yanked my hair up violently, and it felt like my scalp was about to be ripped off. I struggled furiously beneath him. "I don't know you! Let go of me!"

Mabel stood to the side with a look of fake sympathy. "Even if Mr. Stone is just a butcher, you can't deny your bloodline and say something so ungrateful. Just admit your mistake already, Ms. Stone.

"Everyone's waiting to sign the contract with the client."

At those words, the surrounding coworkers immediately chimed in. "Yeah, right? Stealing credit from Mabel was one thing, but now, she's even trying to claim her father? Seriously, what's going on in her head?"

At that moment, regret surged through me.

This project was something every single coworker of mine watched as I personally negotiated for it from start to finish. The moment Mabel casually claimed she was the client chairman's daughter, they switched sides and started sucking up to her.

If I had known this would happen, I never would've asked Dad to route this project to our company in the first place.

I struggled with everything I had, trying to break free. Did Mabel really think some random thug off the street could pass himself off as my father? Dream on.

Immediately, I dialed Dad's number. "Dad, have the secretary send over the most critical document. I need it now!"

Before I could finish, the man suddenly kicked me hard behind the knee. "Your dad is right here! Now, get on your knees and apologize to Mabel! And as compensation, you're signing a voluntary waiver of your project profit share."

My knees buckled from the pain, and I was forced down onto the ground, banging my head against the floor until I was coerced into signing.

"I won't sign!" I screamed, clenching my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

They kept insisting this project was something Mabel had secured entirely on her own, so why were they so desperate for me to sign a waiver giving up my profit share?

Obviously, they were scared—and guilty. They knew if the truth ever came out, everything would collapse. My vision was already blurring from the pain, the world slipping in and out of focus.

A coworker exclaimed, "Stephanie's not moving anymore… Did they actually beat her to death?"

Mabel's eyes flicked around quickly. She pointed at me. "I saw her last night going out with dozens of men. I think she's experiencing incontinence."

At that, everyone immediately recoiled, covering their noses in disgust and stepping back.

Joseph clenched his fists. "Stephanie, sign the damn waiver and get the hell back home!"

As he spoke, he stepped forward and forced my hand toward the stamp pad.

"I told you guys, I closed this project, so the profit share is mine! None of you is taking it!" I shouted.

With that, the man behind me suddenly pulled out a small knife. "Damn it. Why are we still talking to her? Just cut her finger off and stamp it! Problem solved!"

Just as the blade was about to come down, a furious roar rang out from behind. "Let go of Ms. Stone!"

Dad's secretary, Matthew Cooper, rushed in at full speed, shoving the impersonator aside and moving straight to my side. "Ms. Stone, this is what Mr. Stone instructed me to deliver to you."

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and took the original project proposal. Then, I raised it high above my head. "Take a damn look at the name on this!"

One by one, their expressions shifted—shock spreading across their faces as their eyes widened in disbelief.