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]

Lacey’s body stiffened right away, her eyes lighting up in disbelief.

“You’re really giving me this much?!” she asked.

Playing dumb, I asked back, “Didn’t you say you wanted five hundred thousand?”

Before she could say anything, Miss Perkins leaned in and tugged at her sleeve, whispering just loud enough.

“Come on, Secretary Madigan, five hundred grand’s the least she can pay. After how long they kept you waiting, I’d say you’re worth double that.”

Lacey hesitated, then gave a slow nod.

Well, of course she did. She was the mother of Redmond’s son, after all.

And Redmond? That tycoon could rake in tens of millions without breaking a sweat. I bet Lacey figured that if he stood at the top of all men, then by extension, she deserved to rule over all women.

I could practically hear her scoffing, ‘Five hundred thousand? I’m worth way, way more!’

Whatever was running through her head, she folded her arms and puffed up like a proud peacock.

“You’re right,” she said smugly. “I did ask for five hundred thousand. Glad you know what’s good for you. I’ll let it slide this time.”

Then, with a flick of her hand, she added, “Now go move your car. Head now to the classroom. Don’t hold up the parent-teacher meeting.”

I gave her a faint smile, said nothing, and simply did as she said. I moved the car, then took my niece’s hand and walked her to class.

Her seat was in the very last row. We slipped in through the back door; no one even glanced our way.

But the second Lacey strutted in with her son in tow, half the parents in the room practically launched themselves toward her.

“Oh my god, that dress, Miss Lacey! Isn’t it from this year’s new couture collection?”

“Whoah, aren’t those the earrings from last week’s auction?!”

“Damn, President Grandpierre really spoils you, huh?”

One compliment after another flew around the room like confetti.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

I glanced down—it was the police station calling me back. I had made the report earlier, right before transferring the money to her account.

Quietly, I stepped outside to answer.

When I returned, Noreen was drenched—completely soaked in glue. Someone had dumped a whole bucket of it over her head.

Her hair was stuck in thick clumps, her clothes were ruined, and her little face was streaked and sticky!

A crowd had gathered around her, but not one person had lifted a finger to help.

I felt fury explode in my chest.

Without thinking, I shoved my way through the crowd and dropped to my knees beside her, frantically pulling tissues from my bag.

I dabbed at her face as I growled, “Who did this to her?!”

A voice answered loud and clear.

“I did!”

It was Duke. He stood there without an ounce of guilt, chin lifted like he was the one wronged.

“She hit me just ’cause I called her cursed! That’s not fair!”

‘Unfair, your ass!’ I almost blurted out.

Instead, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face—hard. Then I grabbed him by the collar, hand tightening around his scrawny neck.

“You little bastard,” I hissed. “You’re just like your mother—the same shameless slut!”

His face started turning purple from the pressure of my grip.

All around me, people gasped. Hands reached in from every direction, trying to pry me off him. But I’d snapped. I couldn’t be reasoned with anymore.

And then—a sharp voice thundered from the doorway.

“Kennedy! Let go of him this instant!”