I stormed out of the office and headed to the parking lot to get Sophie home.

But the exit was jammed.

I peered out and saw a crowd clogging the road. I stepped out of the car for a closer look.

It was a gaggle of well-dressed parents fawning over a man in the center.

"Excuse me," I said, "could you clear the way?"

The group turned, their eyes scanning me with naked contempt. A beefy guy with a gold chain barked, "We're talking to Mr. Carey. Who are you to interrupt?"

Jack Carey glanced at me, then at my weathered sedan. A sneer crept onto his face. "Look at this nobody, acting like he owns the place."

The others piled on, their voices a chorus of snobbery.

"Know your lane, buddy."

"Mr. Carey is connected to the CEO of the Mills Group and is worth billions. Be silent in your junker."

"Wise up and beat it."

Ten years ago, I stepped out of the spotlight for Olivia and Sophie, pouring everything into their happiness.

Mills Group was just a small company I'd bought to cheer Olivia up during a rough patch. Now, it was their idol.

I glanced at Jack, then at the sleek Maserati behind him. It was the same one I'd gifted Olivia for her birthday last year.

Jack caught my gaze, mistaking it for envy. He patted the car door smugly. "Limited edition, one of a kind. You couldn't dream of affording this."

I kept my voice flat. "Impressive."

He grinned, his ego swelling. "No surprise there. This beauty is way out of your league."

"Impressive that you're driving my car," I replied, my voice calm but sharp.

The air went still.

Jack's smirk faltered. "What did you say?"

"That's my car," I said, pointing at the Maserati. "The plate ends with Olivia's birthday."

Jack froze, then burst into laughter. "You heard that? This clown says this is his car."

The crowd erupted in mockery.

"Is this guy unhinged?"

"Mr. Carey, don't bother with this delusional loser."

"Got some guts, claiming what's not his."

Jack burst his sides with laughter. "Buddy, you know how much this car costs? Three million dollars. Your junker is not worth thirty grand on a good day. Olivia's birthday? That's public info. Anyone can find the answers online. You think you're clever?"

He whipped out his phone, grinning. "Let's show this guy what a real power couple looks like."

He flashed a photo of himself and Olivia, arm in arm. She wore the custom gown I'd bought her, worth hundreds of thousands, her smile radiant as she leaned into him.

"This one is us in Paris, under the Eiffel Tower," he bragged.

My chest tightened, like someone had punched me in the gut. That week, Olivia had told me she was at a high-stakes business summit.

"And this," Jack continued, swiping to a video. "Our cozy weekend at home."

The screen showed Olivia chopping carrots in the kitchen, an apron tied around her waist. Jack slid behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and they giggled like newlyweds.

I was struck dumb.

Olivia never cooked. In ten years of marriage, she'd claimed the kitchen was foreign territory.

We lived on takeout or meals from our housekeeper. Once, when I was sick and craving soup, she'd told me to order delivery, too busy to bother.

Yet here she was, cooking for another man. Her face glowed with a tenderness I had never seen.

A sharp, bratty voice sliced through my shock. "Dad!"

I turned to see Emery strutting from the school gates, his designer uniform pristine, his smirk dripping with arrogance.

Jack ruffled his hair. "Perfect timing, bud. This guy claims our car is his. What's your take?"

"I know his type," Emery scoffed, his tone too old for his years. "A kid in my class brags about being loaded but can't even afford a decent toy."

He sized me up like I was roadkill. "Mister, you know how much this car costs? My mom says it's worth a house. Look in the mirror and tell me you can afford it."

He jabbed a finger at my jacket. "Your whole outfit is cheaper than my sneakers, and you're saying our car is yours?"

"Total loser!" he jeered, sticking out his tongue. "My mom says people like you should stay out of sight. You're an eyesore."

Jack roared with laughter. "That's my boy. Scram, pal, before you make a bigger fool of yourself."

I stared at them, simmering with rage. Their family education was questionable. No normal kids talked like that.

Sophie got out of the car and ran to my side. Her voice was small and worried. "Dad, why aren't we going home?"

Emery's eyes gleamed with malice. "Well, well, isn't this the poor girl in my class?"

He sauntered over, blocking her path. "Heard your dad? Like father, like daughter. You're both full of it. Need a wake-up call."

He yanked a craft knife from his backpack. "Say sorry, or you know what happens."

Sophie stumbled back in fear, tripping and falling to the ground. Her sobs pierced the air.

I lunged to grab Emery's wrist, wrenching the knife from his grip. He wailed, "Ow! You're hurting me! Let go!"

I pocketed the knife and released him. He collapsed dramatically, shouting, "Dad, he stole my knife and hurt me!"

Jack stormed over, his face red with fury. "You dare touch my son, you filth?"

"He threatened my daughter with a knife," I said, holding up the blade.

He barely glanced at it, "It's just an art tool, you drama queen! Kids play with those."

The crowd piled on, their voices a chorus of blame.

"Kids mess around. Adults shouldn't interfere."

"If your daughter behaved, Emery wouldn't have pulled a knife."

"You started this."

"Look at her, bawling like that. Spoiled brat can't handle a little teasing."

"It's you and your kid's fault, plain and simple."

Jack crossed his arms. "Poor folks don't know the first thing about raising kids. No wonder she gets picked on."

I stared at their smug faces, their logic twisted like a pretzel. No matter what Emery did, Sophie and I were the villains.

Jack whipped out his phone and dialed a number.

The call connected instantly, and he said sweetly, "Olivia, babe."

My stomach churned. Every time I called her, it went straight to voicemail, her texts claiming she was buried in meetings or too slammed to talk.

Yet she answered Jack's call before the first ring finished.

He spoke briefly and hung up, grinning at me. "My wife's coming. Don't you dare run."

Minutes later, a white BMW X7 pulled up. Olivia stepped out, her face a mask of cold authority.

Jack rushed to her side, playing the victim. "Honey, you're here. This psycho is causing a scene. Says our car is his, and he roughed up Emery."

Emery held up his wrist, showing faint marks. "Mom, he was so mean. He snatched my knife and squeezed my arm."

Olivia patted his back. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll handle this."

"That's the guy!" Jack scowled, pointing at me. "He is unhinged, and his daughter is no better. Make them disappear."

The parents jumped in, their accusations flying.

"He insulted Jack and hurt Emery."

"He's just jealous of your perfect family."

"And he has no respect for you."

Olivia's gaze landed on me. For a split second, her anger faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing her face before she masked it.

She approached, her voice icy. "Sir, there must be a misunderstanding here. But touching my son? That's unacceptable."

"And?" I crossed my arms.

She paused, her eyes flickering away. "Apologize, and we'll let this slide."

Jack wasn't satisfied. "That won't settle it. He humiliated me in front of everyone and hurt Emery. He has to pay."

He gestured at the crowd. "Look at all these people. If I let him go easily, they'll think I'm weak."

Those parents nodded eagerly.

"Spot on. We can't be too soft."

"Teach him a lesson, or others will try the same."

"We can't let him walk all over us."

"You hear that?" Jack pressed. "If we don't shut this down, every parent will question our prestige. Don't you care?"

"Shut up!" Olivia huffed, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Jack was stunned. "W-What's wrong?"

"Apologize? Sure, I can do that," I said.

Jack paused, surprised by my quick concession. His smirk returned. "That's more like it."

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. "Captain Guzman? I'm at my daughter's school. Someone stole my car. Can you swing by and take care of it?"

I hung up and met Jack's gaze. "My apology is on the way."

Jack laughed, his confidence unshaken. "Calling someone to roll logs? Nice try."

The crowd jeered, "Captain Guzman? Give me a break."