One after another, all seven or eight bodyguards crumpled, completely powerless against me.

The crowd began to stir.

By the time I had the last one pinned to the floor, his arm twisted firmly behind his back, the twins finally panicked.

“Let me go, you old witch!”

The older one thrashed wildly. “My dad’s gonna kill your whole family when he gets here!”

The younger screamed, “Poor people should be our dogs! Don’t you dare touch me!”

I let out a soft, mocking laugh.

“Then let everyone take a good look at what exactly makes the so-called richest family’s children so different from us poor folks?”

Ten seconds later, the two boys stood before the crowd in nothing but their cartoon underwear.

The spectators buzzed with whispers, many failing to hide their glee.

I dusted off my hands and looked toward Dakota, mimicking her usual cold tone.

“So? How much compensation do you want?”

Dakota trembled with rage, a few strands of her perfectly curled hair now hanging loose.

She pointed at me, her fingertip trembling. “Y-you’re insane?! You dared lay a hand on my sons? Do you even know who I am? With a single call, I can make sure you and your daughter won’t survive in Jacksonville!”

“I know.”

I spoke slowly. “A woman who clawed her way up by crawling into a man’s bed, Dakota Stewart, right?”

Her face flushed a furious red. “You filthy, do you believe I won’t rip that mouth of yours apart?! Do you even have the means to pay for what you’ve done?”

“My sons’ uniforms are custom-made from imported fabric!”

I stayed calm. “So what?”

Dakota’s expression twisted, growing uglier with every breath.

“Honey!”

She pulled out her phone and made a call, slamming it on speaker.

“Send me money now! Someone bullied our sons, tied them to a tree! Now she’s throwing money at me to mock me. I want her to pay for this!”

There was a pause on the line, then came a deep male voice.

“Wait.”

Just one word, and my hand curled into a fist.

That voice was far too familiar.

But I shoved the thought away. Paul Chalamet would never betray me.

“Principal, could you please bring the brown bag from the back seat of my car?”

The principal froze for a moment, then broke into a jog toward the parking lot.

Three minutes later, she returned, panting, with the brown bag, its surface covered in my daughter’s cartoon stickers.

I unzipped it, pulled out three bundles of neatly stacked cash, and tossed them at Dakota’s feet.

“Your sons, this is probably what they’re worth, right?”

Applause erupted around us.

“Well done!”

A parent couldn’t hold back.

“My daughter had her face scribbled on with markers by those two. It still won’t wash off!”

“And my son!”

A father stood, his voice tight with emotion. “They made him eat chalk dust. Said our family’s so poor, we should get used to garbage!”

“My son fractured a bone, pushed down the stairs! All because he didn’t give up his seat fast enough!”

Another dad held up his phone.

“I’ve got every bit of it recorded!”

Under the rising storm of voices, Dakota began to step back.

“Everyone…”

I stepped onto the flower bed, my voice cutting through the noise.

“Today, I’m not speaking as the mother of a victim.”

“If a three-year-old girl can be punished simply for rejecting harassment and we all stay silent…”

I pointed directly at the twins. “Then tomorrow, it could be any of your children tied to that tree.”

The crowd erupted.

“Well said!”

“Someone should’ve taught them a lesson long ago!”

Fuming, Dakota screamed from where she stood. “I’ll have every one of you blacklisted!”

“That’s enough, Dakota. Do you enjoy throwing your weight around?”

“If what I’ve offered isn’t enough, I can give you more.”

“But on one condition, my daughter deserves a proper explanation.”

I took out my phone and made the call. “Withdraw four million dollars in cash. Deliver it to Margot’s kindergarten immediately.”

“You?”

Dakota sneered. “Rent a luxury car and wave around some stacks of cash, I’ve seen that act too many times.”

“Wait until you embarrass yourself, that’s when the real show begins!”

I was about to speak when my phone vibrated.

My assistant’s panicked voice spilled through the line. “President Hathaway, all your accounts have been frozen! Finance says your husband transferred out a huge sum. There’s nothing left to move right now.”

Dakota clearly heard it and burst into mocking laughter.

“Go on! Keep pretending! What happened, run out of lines?”

“No money, and you still act like some high-and-mighty rich woman? You think you’re someone?”

I stayed composed.

“I’m calling my husband. I trust you’ll keep your word and apologize to my daughter.”

She laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, clutching her waist and nearly doubling over.

“Sure! If you can pull out two million dollars in cash right now, I’ll transfer my kids out immediately!”

“And one more thing.”

My voice rang out, steady and clear. “You will bow and apologize to every teacher and student your sons have bullied.”

Dakota tossed her perfectly permed curls, not even pretending to take me seriously. “Forget bowing, I'll kneel if you want!”

She leaned in, her breath cold against my ear.

“I just hope it won’t be you later on your knees, begging me to spare your daughter.”

The call connected, and I heard the faint echo of an airport announcement in the background.

“I’m at the kindergarten.”

For a brief moment, I couldn’t hide the fragility in my voice.

“Can you come now?”

There was a short silence.

Paul’s voice came through, low and exhausted. “I just landed in Jacksonville. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

I ended the call and looked over at the twins; they’d already been untied.

The two little devils rubbed their wrists, baring their teeth at me with unrepentant glares.

The burning sensation from the paint allergy had already spread from my neck to my cheeks.

I tugged my mask higher, my eyes stinging behind the sunglasses.

“Still pretending to be mysterious?”

Dakota watched me with a twisted grin. “Allergic or is it something shameful?”

I said nothing, standing quietly off to the side.

Twenty minutes later, the screech of brakes echoed from the kindergarten gate.

Paul’s tall figure appeared at the entrance, looking rushed and worn from travel.

Before he could say a word, the two little devils had already pounced, each clinging to one of his legs.

“Daddy!”

Paul’s gaze swept right past them and locked onto me.

For a moment, I felt every drop of blood in my body freeze.