It was late at night, and I was still in the study, video conferencing with executives from several of the company’s overseas branches.

In the middle of it, my seven-year-old niece came in, clutching her doll in her arms. In a soft voice, she asked if I could attend her parent-teacher meeting the next day.

When she was five, my brother and sister-in-law died in a car accident.

Looking into her hopeful eyes, I agreed without hesitation.

The next morning, I personally drove her to the prestigious academy she attended.

But as soon as I parked in the outdoor parking lot, a woman stomped over and knocked hard on my car window.

“Are you freaking blind?” she snapped. “I saw this spot first—what gives you the right to take it?”

I froze for a second, glancing at the red sports car parked behind me.

It had clearly entered after I did and hadn’t been able to find a space. How come I was the one “stealing” this spot?

Still, choosing not to escalate things, I kept my voice calm. “This is a public parking lot. Whoever gets here first gets the spot.”

Who would’ve thought she’d take it too far? She stormed back to her car, pulled out a baseball bat, and smashed it right into my windshield!

“Whatever I set my eyes on is mine!” she said through gritted teeth. “And let me be real with you—my husband’s one of the school’s board members. Piss me off, and I’ll have President Grandpierre kick your poor-ass self and that poor-ass kid of yours out of this school!”

For a few seconds, I just blinked at the absurdity. Then, I pulled out my phone and called Redmond Grandpierre.

“I heard President Grandpierre already has a wife? In that case, I guess our engagement is officially over.”

——

My engagement to Redmond was arranged at his father’s request.

Years ago, my grandfather owed the Grandpierres a favor. Redmond’s father took advantage of that to push this marriage through.

My grandfather was a man of honor, so he agreed.

But frankly, if not for that favor, the Grandpierres wouldn’t even qualify to marry into the Winchesters. In Minneapolis, our family’s status was far above theirs.

Even so, a favor is a favor. But if Redmond was already married—or even had another woman—then the Grandpierres had deceived us.

If they dared make a fool out of me, I, Kennedy Winchester, wouldn’t let it slide!

Lucky for Redmond, I made that call to still give him a chance to explain.

After all, I was a reasonable woman who believed in one principle—listen to both sides and you’ll understand the truth; listen to only one and you’ll be led astray.

Unfortunately, all I got in return was his cold, impatient voice.

“I’m busy. I don’t have time to entertain your nonsense. Stop jumping to conclusions over every little rumor!”

“I’m your fiancée. I have every right to ask. Don’t you think you owe me at least an explanation? I—”

Before I could finish, he hung up.

I just stared at the screen, dumfounded.

Well, damn. Someone’s got a temper!

Guess he’s not thrilled about this engagement either.

Meanwhile, the woman who had smashed my car—Lacey Madigan—stood a few feet away, gripping her baseball bat like a trophy and smirking at my misfortune.

“What’s wrong? Your fiancé won’t back you up?” she mocked.

Threatening me, she urged, “You better move that cheap car of yours before I decide to smash more than just your windshield!”

Today, I wasn’t driving my usual luxury vehicle—it was in for servicing. Instead, I’d brought out a fairly standard Mercedes sedan. Compared to her flashy red supercar, it didn’t exactly scream money.

Clearly, she’d made assumptions. She must’ve thought I was broke and so, she treated me like trash.

But I raised my eyebrows. “You serious right now?”

I scoffed. “You smashed my car, threatened me, and now you’re still running your mouth? You think I won’t call the cops?”

As I pulled out my phone and started dialing, her eyes widened. Then she lunged at me.

“Bitch! You really think calling the cops is gonna scare me? Go ahead—call them! My husband’s got money. If I told him to, he could make you disappear in this city!”

While we struggled over the phone, my niece—terrified—curled up and burst into tears.

Hearing her cry, I let go and rushed to comfort her, pulling her into my arms.

At the same time, across the lot, a chubby little boy jumped out of Lacey’s red sports car. He had a backpack on and came running up to her.

Grinning wide, he pointed at my niece and shouted.

He jabbed a pudgy finger in my niece’s direction, announcing, “Mom! That’s the cursed girl from my class!”

“I heard she doesn’t have a mom or dad—she’s an orphan!” he added in a mocking tone.

“She threw a birthday party and insisted her parents come. Guess what?” He snickered. “They died in a car crash on the way!”

As if that weren’t enough, that boy boasted, “No one’s more stupid than her! I pulled her braids and tossed her textbooks in the trash, and she didn’t even dare tell the teacher!”

His laughter grew louder the more he spoke. At some point, he suddenly charged forward and kicked my niece.

“Cursed orphan! How dare you steal my mom’s parking spot? I’ll beat you to death!”

The kick caught my niece completely off guard. His little foot landed right on her chest, sending her tumbling backward to the pavement. Her palms scraped against the rough concrete, bleeding where the skin had been torn.

In that instant, my rage exploded. Without thinking, I shot up and shoved the boy hard.

“Where the hell did this spoiled brat come from? Does no one teach you manners?”

He fell flat on his butt and immediately let out an ear-piercing wail.

Seeing her precious son on the pavement, Lacey practically lost her mind. She scooped him up in a frenzy and glared at me like she wanted to skin me alive.

“You filthy bitch! You dare lay a hand on my son? Do you want to die?!”

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a security guard jogging in our direction. Her expression sharpened instantly.

She barked at him, “Hold her down!”

Apparently, the security guard clearly knew Lacey—and her status.

Without hesitation, he rushed over, grabbed my shoulder, and yanked my hair back so hard my scalp burned.

My head was forced up at a painful angle.

In the chaos, my phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the pavement a few feet away.

Meanwhile, Lacey strutted toward me in her ten-centimeter stilettos, a mocking smirk playing on her heavily made-up face.

Before I could dodge, she had already slapped me across the face twice!

“Bitch! You think you can take my parking spot and push my son?” she hissed. “Do you even know who I am? I’ll make sure you and that little orphan won’t walk out of this school alive!”

Just then, a car pulled up beside us. Out stepped my niece’s homeroom teacher—Miss Perkins.

She looked to be in her forties, dressed in a formal dress and heels. As soon as she saw Lacey, she rushed toward her, looking concerned.

“Secretary Madigan! Are you alright?” she asked breathlessly. Then she turned to the crying boy. “Oh, Duke, sweetheart, tell me—who pushed you?”

She asked them as if she hadn’t seen a thing that had just happened to me and my niece.

Lacey crossed her arms smugly. “That bitch tried to take my parking spot! I taught her a lesson.”

At her words, Miss Perkins’s face immediately hardened. She stepped beside Lacey like they were on the same team.

“Ma’am, I have to say, what you did was totally inappropriate,” she commented, towering over me. “As an adult, you should be setting a good example for Noreen, not causing a scene!”

Then, more forcefully, she added, “You should apologize to Secretary Madigan immediately. Let her calm down, give up the spot, and we’ll consider the matter settled.”

At that, Noreen—still trembling—tried to speak up for me through her tears.

“That woman’s not explaining what really happened! She didn’t have a parking spot, so she smashed my aunt’s car!”

Instead of hearing her out, Miss Perkins’s expression shifted. Her brows creased but not with concern.

“Noreen, lying is a very bad habit,” she scolded.

Then, folding her arms across her chest, she added with a disapproving shake of her head, “Teachers don’t like students who lie.”

My niece froze, stunned. Her little eyes filled with tears and confusion. Her face was pale with humiliation.

‘Is this how a teacher acts?’ I thought bitterly, glaring at the homeroom teacher.

‘Not even the most basic attempt at hearing both sides?’ I seethed, my jaw tightening as I fought the urge to shout. ‘Just calling my niece a liar?!’

I sneered inwardly. ‘Is this blind favoritism and shameless bootlicking?’

I clenched my fists, fury rising with every throb in my slapped cheeks.

Through gritted teeth, I shouted at her, “My niece isn’t lying! You, as a teacher, should be fair—not kiss up to the rich and trample others!”

“You want me to apologize?” I scoffed. “Dream on!”

Before they could react, I spat at their feet.

The so-called teacher’s expression twisted as if she’d been personally insulted. She quickly masked it with an air of fake professionalism and spoke to me stiffly.

“Ma’am, I’m only asking you to apologize for your own good.”

“Do you even know who Secretary Madigan is?” Miss Perkins continued. “You’ll be scared to death when you find out!”

Without waiting for a reply, she declared, “Duke is President Grandpierre’s son!”

She leaned in a little, eyes wide with excitement. “You know which President Grandpierre, right? The one who’s about to marry into the Winchesters!”

“And soon enough, the entire capital will basically be under the Grandpierres’ control!” she finished breathlessly, practically bouncing on her heels.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her little speech.

“All that talk,” I said dryly, glancing sideways at Lacey, “and I thought Secretary Madigan was someone impressive.”

Then I turned to Miss Perkins, curling my lips into a slow smirk. “So she’s just Redmond’s other woman, huh? The woman no one’s allowed to talk about?”

My gaze snapped back to Lacey, sharper now. “If Redmond’s really about to marry someone else, doesn’t that just mean you’ll never be a real wife in this lifetime?”

Clearly, Miss Perkins had only meant to flatter Lacey. But instead, that stupid teacher slipped up—badly. Without realizing it, she’d just exposed Lacey as the other woman.

She must’ve caught on a second later, because her mouth snapped shut and she threw a nervous glance at Lacey, clearly terrified she’d stepped out of line.

And just like that, Lacey’s face darkened. Her expression turned thunderous, like a storm ready to explode.

“Bitch! You dare insult me? Are you tired of living?” she hissed, eyes wild.

Before I could move, she slapped me across the face again—twice. Hard.

“Even if I am the other woman, I’m still far more impressive than you!” she barked.

Then she pointed at the boy and snarled, “And don’t forget—I have a son!”

With a twisted sense of pride, she added, “My son can inherit the Winchesters’ fortune someday! I’ll be honored as the mother of the heir—way better off than a broke, useless woman like you!”

“Besides,” she continued, “who says that that rich Winchester heiress will even live longer than me? What if she dies after the wedding? Who says I won’t have the chance to take her place?”

God. What an evil thought.

Her son and my niece were the same age. And yet, he was already attending one of the best private academies under the Grandpierre & Co.

I didn’t buy for a second that Redmond’s father was clueless about any of this.

So this was his true reason for insisting Redmond marry me?

He wanted Redmond to marry me just so that even my wealth would fall into their hands—after I died!

Chills crept up my spine. Good thing I came to this parent-teacher meeting. Just thinking about it made me sick.

Trying to smooth things over, Miss Perkins jumped in again, trying to smooth things over.

“Miss Kennedy, Noreen is watching. She’s very timid by nature. You wouldn’t want to scare her, would you? Just apologize nicely, okay?”

Lacey, now clearly feeling bold, took it even further. “An apology’s not enough,” she said, crossing her arms. “She’s wasted so much of my time. She should compensate me too.”

Wow. I’d never met someone so shameless in my life.

With a cold laugh, I played along and asked, “How much do you want?”

Thinking I had finally given in after hearing her ‘status,’ Lacey lifted her chin arrogantly and raised five fingers.

“Five hundred thousand!” she demanded.

Then, she threatened me. “If you don’t pay me five hundred thousand, don’t even think about walking out of this school gate today.”

Right after she said that, she gave a tiny nod to the security guard.

In response, the man behind me pushed down harder on my shoulders. I winced as my joints cracked under the pressure.

The pain made me suck in a sharp breath.

“Fine,” I spat through clenched teeth. “Let go of me. I’ll transfer it.”

The second I gave in, a gleam of triumph flashed in Lacey’s eyes.

“I knew you’d come to your senses eventually,” she said. “Smart people know when to give up.”

She inspected her nails casually, blabbering, “When your family goes bankrupt someday, bring that little orphan of a niece to my doorstep to beg for food. Maybe I’ll toss her some scraps.”

“Don’t look down on third parties,” she advised with a proud smirk. “These days, people laugh at the poor, not at those who sell their bodies.”

“You, acting all righteous—” She adjusted her sunglasses. “What’s there to be proud of when you’re broke?”

Then, with a final wave of her hand, she signaled the guard to release me.

As soon as the pressure lifted, I rolled my aching shoulders and bent down to pick up my phone from where it had fallen. My face was still stinging, hot and swollen from the slaps.

I unlocked the screen, pulled up iMessage, and started typing.

Then I looked up, dead calm, and asked again, “How much did you say you wanted?”

Lacey smugly held up five fingers again. “This much!”

I gave her a serious nod and tapped in my password.

Moments later, a cheerful chime rang out from her phone.

[Deposit received: $500,000.00]