Grandma pressed a hand to her chest, her finger trembling as she pointed at me.

"Get on your knees! Apologize to your Aunt Sandra! Do you think she has it easy, making money? You're going to be the death of her!"

I looked at Aunt Sandra's face—that smug, wronged-party expression she'd perfected—and felt nothing but contempt.

"I stole money? Aunt Sandra, you want to put the books on the table and go through them together? I pulled an all-nighter on International Women's Day and sold $5 million worth of product. $400,000 in commission, and you handed me $500. And I'm the thief?"

Mum froze, her face going pale. "How much? $400,000?"

Aunt Sandra's eyes darted around the room. She raised her voice, covering for herself. "What $400,000! That was gross revenue! After costs, labor, venue fees, and promotions, there was barely anything left! Lexi, since when do you lie to your elders?"

I pulled out my phone, brought up the settlement screenshot from the backend, and held it right in her face.

"This is the settlement statement. Net profit, in black and white. Want me to put it on speaker and call platform support to verify?"

Aunt Sandra lunged to her feet and grabbed for my phone. "You little brat, who do you think you are!"

I stepped back, my eyes sharp. "Who do I think I am? You used my money for a down payment and a car. Where's the house? Where's the car parked? Take Grandma to see them. Let her see what a great son she raised."

Grandma went still and looked at Aunt Sandra. "Sandra, where did that money come from?"

Sandra stuttered, sweat breaking out on her forehead. "Mum, that… that was money I'd saved up."

I pressed forward, not letting up. "You were borrowing money from Mum last year just to cover your insurance payments. Now you've suddenly got a six-figure down payment? Did you win the lottery?

"Grandma, she took the money I broke my back to earn and used it to bail Wade out. And now she wants me on my knees apologizing?"

Grandma had always favored Sandra's side of the family, but she wasn't stupid. She looked at Sandra, and her voice turned icy. "Sandra. Is what Lexi saying true? You kept the child's earnings?"

Aunt Sandra could see she had no way out. She dropped all pretense and went full ugly. "So what if it's true! We're family. Why does everything have to be so calculated? Lexi's going to get married and take it all to some other family anyway. I did this for our bloodline!"

Mum shook with fury. She crossed the room and shoved Aunt Sandra back. "Sandra, how can you say something like that? Lexi worked for every cent of that money. What gives you the right to hand it to your son? Get out of my house!"

Sandra planted her hands on her hips, absolutely brazen. "Lynn, I'm telling you, Lexi is coming back to Vivid Stream Media today, and she's selling out the rest of that inventory.

"If she doesn't, I'll take her to court for misappropriation. She'll have a record hanging over her for the rest of her life. Good luck finding a real job after that."

I looked at her and spoke slowly, each word deliberate, my voice completely flat, "Go ahead. File the suit. And bring that eight-percent commission contract with you.

"Let the judge decide whether I owe you money, or whether you owe me back wages and damages."

Aunt Sandra snapped. She grabbed a glass off the table and hurled it at my head. "Go to hell, you little witch!"

Mum yanked me aside. The glass shattered on the floor, shards scattering everywhere.

"Get out! Sandra, get out of my house!" Mum grabbed a broom—the first time I'd ever seen her that fierce—and drove them toward the door.

Aunt Sandra dragged Wade out with her. At the threshold, she turned back and spat on the floor.

"Lexi, you just wait! I'm hiring people to run the stream around the clock! You're not seeing a single cent!"

I pulled out my phone and started reaching out to a few professional streamers I knew, hoping one of them would be willing to go public about what Aunt Sandra had done.

Another dead end. The ones who'd called me their girl every other day were suddenly unreachable.

"Lexi, this is tricky. The platform's cracking down on that kind of thing. We can't be seen going after each other."

Worse, a streamer who went by Candy took my message and screenshotted it straight to Aunt Sandra as a peace offering.

Aunt Sandra texted me immediately: [Nice try, sweetheart. You think you can come for me? I've been in this game longer than you. Give it up.]

I read the message and took a slow breath.

I opened my laptop and pulled up something I'd spent three years building—a viral product prediction model covering the entire platform ecosystem.

I sent it directly to Hammer, a mega-streamer with tens of millions of followers, known for his hair-trigger temper and his very public crusades against fraud.

[Hammer, I need you to look into someone. Use this model for free for a year. It'll bump your conversion rate by at least thirty percent next quarter.]

Ten minutes later, he replied with two words: [Done. Deal.]

That evening, Aunt Sandra's stream was in full swing. She'd paid for two cheap models who showed up in barely-there outfits, rambling incoherently through a pitch for knockoff cosmetics.

Wade sat off to the side, hammering on the desk. "Order now, everyone! Last hundred units! Get in while you can!"

Then Hammer arrived with his entire army.

Millions of viewers flooded Aunt Sandra's stream at once.

"So this is the stream where the boss pocketed her intern's $400,000 commission and had the nerve to call it saving it for her?" Hammer's voice boomed through the feed. "Truly something else. The owner herself reaching into her own employee's pocket. You really do see everything in this life.

"Take a look at these products, folks. Are you going to sell unlabeled garbage face cream? Don't let anyone here get scammed."

Aunt Sandra stared at the wall of comments pouring in and went pale. She screamed at the camera, her voice shrill, "Who sent you people? Get out of my stream! Mods! Ban them! Kick them out!"

But there were too many. Tens of thousands hit the server at once and blew straight through it. The mods couldn't keep up.

The viewer count spiked to a hundred thousand. Not one of them was buying anything. They were all there to watch.

[Is that the awful aunt? She looks exactly like what she is.]

[$400,000 in commission and you gave her $500? You make the worst bosses in history look generous.]

Aunt Sandra was losing it on camera, past the point of caring what she said. "All of you, shut up! How much did Lexi pay you? I'll double it!"

The stream exploded.

[Funny. A second ago, there was no money for commissions, but now there's enough to pay double?]

[Everyone, screenshot this. This is literally evidence of embezzlement.]

Aunt Sandra realized what she'd said and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Wade panicked beside her and lunged for the controls to kill the stream, and accidentally flipped the camera. The lens swung around and landed on the back room.

Products were stacked floor to ceiling with no labels or certifications. A handful of temp workers quietly peeled expiration dates off packaging and pressed on fresh ones.

Hammer's voice exploded through the feed. "What the hell! They're switching labels live on camera? Folks, that's illegal. I've already called the police. Everyone, start recording."

Aunt Sandra lunged at her phone like a woman possessed and smashed it face down on the floor. "Kill it! Shut it down now!"

The stream went black to the sound of screaming and chaos.

Not long after, I got the notification.

Vivid Stream Media's channel had been permanently banned by the platform for fraudulent operations, selling counterfeit goods, and causing serious public harm. Wade's new account went down with it as it was flagged under the same verified identity.

Aunt Sandra stared at the wreckage of everything she'd spent years building, wiped out in a single night.

After midnight, Wade texted me.

[Lexi, happy now? You pushed us to the edge. My mom's in the hospital. Acute heart attack, the doctor said. Women like you always get what's coming to them.]

I didn't reply.

First thing the next morning, Wade called. His voice was cracked, theatrical, and calculating all at once.

"Please, I'm begging you. Help my mom. The hospital needs surgery fees upfront—$100,000. I lost all $400,000 gambling on sports. If she doesn't get the surgery, she's going to die. You can't just let that happen."

I held the phone and felt nothing. Just a cold, hollow contempt. "You lost it gambling. That's your problem, not mine. Did either of you think about what happened to me when you took my money?"

Wade's voice went unhinged on the other end. "Lexi! Do you have any humanity left in you? That's your aunt. You've got money. Just lend it to us. If you don't, I'll show up at your new office and make sure everyone knows what you are."

I laughed, short and flat. "Go ahead. While you're at it, tell everyone exactly how your mother helped herself to my commission. As for the surgery, you've still got two working hands. Go donate blood."

I hung up and blocked them both.

However, I knew Aunt Sandra. She'd clawed her way up from nothing, and women like her didn't quit.

Sure enough, by that afternoon, she'd launched her counterattack across social media and every local forum she could find. She posted a photo of herself in a hospital bed, oxygen tubes in, the picture of suffering.

The caption: "Driven to this by my own niece. God, are you watching?"

Then the supplier I knew as Craig Donovan, whom Aunt Sandra had bought off, published a lengthy post online.

The title: The Truth Behind Live-Stream Star Lexi Harmon's Rise: How She Really Built Her Numbers.

The post included several blurry screenshots of chat logs, the content explicit—all allegedly discussing exchanges of favors for business deals. There was also a still frame from a surveillance clip, a few seconds long. In it, a woman whose build looked like mine walked into a hotel with an older man, his arm around her.

Craig's post was emphatic.

[Lexi Harmon knows nothing about product sourcing. Every result she ever got came from trading favors with suppliers like me for below-market pricing. Aunt Sandra docked her pay because she discovered Lexi's conduct was damaging the company's reputation.]

It detonated across the internet like a depth charge.

Overnight, the story flipped. From cold-hearted niece to streamer who slept her way to the top. The court of public opinion turned on a dime.