Support

Roger smiled brightly, but the words that came out of his mouth were vicious. "So, you see, the final list the school submitted only had one name from start to finish—mine, Roger Smith. No matter how well-prepared he was, what good would it do him?"

As soon as he finished, he tore in half, right in front of me, the stack of documents Timothy had poured countless days and nights of effort into.

"Matt!" Timothy's voice cracked as he shouted, his eyes instantly reddening.

I watched those papers scatter to the ground, fury blazing through me in an instant.

I'd seen shameless people before, but never anyone this brazenly shameless!

"You!" My blood surged, the veins at my temples throbbing.

"What about me?" Roger sneered, grinding the shredded papers beneath his shoe, satisfaction written all over his face. "Unhappy about it? Then, tell your mom to donate a building to the school too! Oh, wait—I forgot. People like you could never afford that!"

My temples throbbed harder; I clenched my fists so tight my knuckles turned white.

The teacher beside him, Mr. Winters, immediately stepped in to side with him.

"Sir, the situation is quite clear. Madam Smith donated an entire laboratory building to our school, making a tremendous contribution to our research program. After careful consideration, the school decided to award the exchange student spot to the more suitable candidate—Roger."

That fawning, sycophantic tone made my stomach churn.

"Mr. Winters, is it?" I turned toward him, my gaze sharp as a blade. "My brother, Timothy Mace, ranked first in the entire year, earned a national gold award for his research project, and scored nearly full marks on his tests. So, tell me—what qualifications does your so-called more suitable candidate, Roger Smith, have?"

Mr. Winters' face flushed red; he opened his mouth but couldn't say a word.

Then, Roger suddenly burst into exaggerated laughter.

"What do I have? I have my mother! She's the head of the Smith family and the chairperson of Aureon Tech! Money is all that matters—got it?"

Aureon Tech? The head of the Smith family?

I listened to every word that came out of his mouth, the cold smile tugging at my lips, almost impossible to hide. The real brains behind Aureon Tech wasn't Christine.

"Aureon Tech's Smith family?" I raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh, I've heard of them—a pretty powerful family. Funny, though… I didn't know they had a son named Roger Smith."

My calm tone and quiet skepticism clearly caught him off guard.

To him, anyone hearing the names Aureon Tech and the Smith family should either bow in awe or grovel in flattery, not look at him with curiosity and doubt.

He froze for a second, then snapped in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are? Our family's business isn't something an outsider like you needs to know about!"

Mr. Winters immediately straightened up and scolded, "Sir, please mind your words! The school has verified Roger's identity. You have no right to make baseless accusations or cause a scene here."

The Call

"Verified?" I let out a cold laugh. "And how exactly did you verify it? Just by taking his word for it?"

"Of course not!" Mr. Winters adjusted his glasses, looking smug. "Roger's mother, Madam Smith, personally spoke with our principal over the phone to confirm both the donation and his admission. Are you suggesting she herself would lie about that?"

The moment I heard my mother's name come out of his mouth, my heart sank.

When I spoke to her earlier, her reaction hadn't seemed fake, but now, Mr. Winters was so certain, saying she personally confirmed it.

Something wasn't adding up.

Could it be… my mom really lied to me?

I glanced at Tim's pale face. He was clutching the hem of my jacket tightly, his body trembling with anger.

I shook off the doubts swirling in my head. Now wasn't the time for speculation.

No matter what, I couldn't let him be humiliated like this.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the board of directors directly.

"I don't care who you think you are," I said, staring straight at Roger, my voice low and steady. "What you tore up today wasn't just an application form. It was your own qualification to stay in this school.

"I'm calling the board right now. Let's see which holds more weight—your so-called donation, or the school's integrity."

Both Roger and Mr. Winters blanched at once. They clearly hadn't expected someone who looked so ordinary to have the board's direct contact number.

Members of the school board were all powerful and wealthy—ordinary people couldn't even get close to them.

Beads of sweat formed on Mr. Winters' forehead. He wanted to grab my phone but didn't dare.

Roger, on the other hand, looked shocked and furious. He was used to throwing his weight around at school, hiding behind his status as the heir to the Smiths. No one had ever talked back to him like this.

"You wouldn't dare!" he shouted. "Who the hell do you think you are, threatening me? Just you wait!" He shot me a venomous glare, then yanked out his own phone, fingers flying across the screen.

The call connected, and he instantly broke into a dramatic wail.

"Dad! Someone's bullying me! In the school office! Hurry over! Two nobodies are trying to steal my exchange spot—come and back me up!"

When he hung up, his confidence returned, arrogance plastered all over his face. "Just wait! My dad's on his way. When he gets here, I'll make you both get on your knees and beg!"

Mr. Winters looked torn, glancing between Roger and us, wringing his hands as if he wanted to intervene but didn't dare.

I stood there coldly, watching it all unfold, the last bit of trust I had in my mother beginning to waver.

If Roger had nothing to do with our family, where did he get the nerve to act so high and mighty?

If there wasn't someone backing him… well, I'd eat my own words.

Tim tugged at my sleeve and whispered, "Matt, maybe… just let it go. I don't want to cause you any trouble."

I patted his hand firmly. "This isn't your fault—and it's not trouble. What's ours, no one gets to take away."

The moment I finished speaking, a man in a flashy suit burst through the door, storming in like a gust of wind.

The Identities

The man's sharp features radiated shrewdness and a hint of vulgar arrogance.

"Roger! My precious son! Who bullied you?!"

The moment he entered, he rushed to Roger's side, frantically checking him up and down as if his boy had just suffered some earth-shattering injustice.

Seeing his protector arrive, Roger immediately pointed at my brother and me, crying foul with exaggerated indignation. "Dad! It's them! Timothy tried to steal my exchange student spot, and his brother backed him up—he even said our Smith family doesn't play by the rules!"

The man's eyes widened at that, his voice booming with outrage. "Outrageous! In Ardenford, and someone dares to accuse the Smith family of being unfair?"

He looked me over from head to toe, his tone dripping with disdain. "It's your family's honor that my son has his sights on that spot.

"My son set his sights on that spot—that should be your family's honor! Do you even know who we are? The Smith is at the top of the pinnacle. As for you? Who are you to compete with us?"

He paused for effect, his voice rising with arrogant pride and intimidation. "Do you know who I am? I'm Christine Smith's husband. She's the chairperson of the Smith Group and the wealthiest woman in Ardenford! My son is the Smith family's only heir! If you dare bully my son, you're going up against the entire Smith Group! You'd better know your place!"

I thought, 'The husband of the richest woman in Ardenford?'

I stared at the unfamiliar face before me, the confusion in my chest deepening. I had never seen this man before.

My father, Elias Mace, was a former soldier—upright, steady, and disciplined. He despised pretentious displays and would never speak in such a crude, pompous tone.

Could it be… my mom really had a lover outside?

The thought sent a chill down my spine.

The man jabbed a finger at my brother, barking at Mr. Winters like he owned the place. "I'll make this clear right now! The exchange student spot belongs to my son, Roger! Anyone who disagrees is challenging the entire Smith family!"

He turned to us and ordered, "You two—apologize to me and my son immediately!"

Roger clung to his father's arm, his face gleaming with malicious delight. "Dad, an apology isn't enough. They were acting all high and mighty earlier—they should beg and apologize!"

The man patted his son's shoulder approvingly. "Roger's right. Beg and apologize. Otherwise, you'll never see the end of this today."

"In your dreams!" Timothy's whole body trembled with fury. He was quiet by nature, but beneath that calm exterior burned a stubborn streak that refused to bow.

"Oh? Still got some backbone, huh?" Roger snapped, enraged. He whipped out his phone and made another call. "Mom! Come to the school now! Dad and I are being bullied so badly! If you don't come, your husband and son will be stepped on!"

The call ended, and his face lit up with smug confidence, certain of his victory.

…

About ten minutes later, the office door slammed open.

When we saw who walked in, both my brother and I froze in shock.