My eyes stung with unshed tears. I scanned the crowd, my gaze moving from one face to another.

"I'm Gladys, CEO of Prescott Group! If anything happens to my sister today, every last one of you will pay for it with your lives! Now move! Save her!"

Almost immediately, a collective gasp rippled through the room.

I rarely appeared in public, so they didn't recognize me. Still, my presence left them shaken.

In the next instant, Susan ground her heel into my fingers and spat, "You're Gladys? Dream on! Why would she ever show up at my niece's party? Even if she were back, she'd be at her mother's grave first. I've had people keep watch the entire time."

Pain shot through me, and cold sweat broke out all over my body.

I stared Susan down, my gaze fixed on her smug face. I had asked the Simmons brothers to put this celebration together for Harper. How had it suddenly become Agnes' party?

Moreover, I'd chosen this villa for a reason. It was the home where Harper and I had grown up.

After our parents died, we moved out to protect everything they left behind. This place meant more to us than our own lives.

And yet, the Simmons brothers had let their mother take over this house. She was even wearing my mother's stuff like it was her own.

The three of them had really outdone themselves.

When I didn't respond, Susan took it as proof she had exposed my lie.

"If you really were Gladys, would your sister be reduced to begging for food?" she mocked. "All it takes is one glance to see what people like you are. You can wear all the designer clothes you want, but you still look cheap."

Then, she glared at the event coordinator, who had rushed over. Her voice was sharp as she spat, "And you! My son pays you, but this is how you do your job? How dare you let trash like this walk in? Trust me—one phone call, and I'll have every last one of you replaced!"

"We're very sorry, Mrs. Simmons. It's our mistake. We'll kick them out immediately. Mr. Simmons gave strict instructions to make sure Ms. Prescott enjoys herself," the event coordinator said, all but bending over backward to appease Susan.

Without missing a beat, Susan slapped him hard. "Prescott? What are you talking about? My niece's last name is Turner! Get it wrong again, and you're out!"

Clutching his cheek, the coordinator hurried to correct himself, his tone turning ingratiating. "Yes, of course. We'll make sure Ms. Turner has a good time."

Susan basked in his fawning attention.

A beat later, the event coordinator shot Harper and me a look of pure disgust. "Lock them in the storage room. Find out who let them in before throwing them out."

Just like that, the staff dragged the unconscious Harper by her legs, her body scraping across the floor like discarded trash.

Even at that point, the crowd shrank back from my pleas as if I were something contagious. No one stepped forward to help.

To them, our lives meant nothing. We were certainly not important enough for them to risk offending Susan.

Rage surged through me, and I shouted, "Let go of me! I can prove I'm Gladys Prescott!"

"Spare me your tricks! I'll call my son right now and expose you for the fraud that you are!"

With a look of disdain, Susan dialed a number.

Before long, Jerome Simmons' voice came through the line.

Susan deliberately put the call on speaker, but before she could say a word, I cut in, "Jerome Simmons! Get over here right now if you don't want to die!"

After three years, Jerome didn't even recognize my voice. He snapped, "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you speak to me like that?"

Around me, the crowd's expressions gradually twisted into mockery.

"She almost had me fooled for a second," someone muttered.

Another said, "Turns out Mr. Simmons doesn't even know her. Good thing Mrs. Simmons exposed her on the spot, or all of us would've been fooled."

"Some broke loser crashed the party, insisting she's Gladys. Of course, I had to expose her myself," Susan told Jerome, her voice dripping with mockery.

"Who is she kidding?" Jerome scoffed. "That idiot Gladys is still overseas. I checked. Her flight was canceled because of the weather. She won't be landing until tomorrow.

"Don't worry, Mom. The villa is yours starting today, even if she comes back. You can use everything inside—the jewelry, the clothes, whatever you want.

"If it's not enough, just buy more. Use the secondary card we gave you. That stupid woman believes anything we tell her, anyway. Sending her off to a hotel won't be a problem."

After saying that, he let out a smug little laugh.

I bit down hard on my lip, my body shaking with rage.

I had trusted the Simmons brothers to host Harper's college send-off party at the villa, but their greed knew no bounds. They were even trying to claim the villa as their own.

If I hadn't rushed back for the party—if I hadn't caught an earlier flight—I might have had to identify Harper's body the next day.

The thought made my blood boil. I wanted nothing more than to tear the Simmons brothers into pieces!

After the call ended, Susan lifted her chin and said, "I'm so lucky to have three sons. Unlike that wretch from the Prescott family. She gave birth to a sickly daughter, and in the end, they had to rely on my boys."

She let out a snort and shot me a sharp look.

Right then, Agnes drove her foot into Harper's stomach. Harper coughed up blood, spattering it across Agnes' dress and shoes.

I watched Harper's face turn deathly pale, and my chest tightened with pain.

Yet, Agnes ran up to Susan, complaining, "Aunt Susan, Harper ruined my dress! How am I supposed to go on stage and cut the cake now?"

Her whining instantly set Susan off.

"You've got a death wish, haven't you?" she hissed through gritted teeth, her face twisting with rage. "How dare you lay a hand on someone from the Simmons family?"

Then, she barked at the security guards, "Get over here! Strip her! I want the entire city to see her naked. Let's see how she gets married after that!"

I watched as a group of burly guards moved toward Harper, and I felt my stomach drop.

But when Susan saw my expression, she only grew more smug. "It's too late to be scared now."

One of those filthy hands reached out. The instant it touched Harper, rage flared in my eyes.

"Don't you dare touch her! That dress is worth over a hundred thousand dollars. You couldn't pay for it even if your lives depended on it!"

Harper's dress was a one-of-a-kind couture piece, crafted by a master designer. I had paid ten times the usual price to have it custom-made overnight from abroad. Even a single torn thread would cost a fortune to repair.

At my words, the guards hesitated. With a dress worth that much, no one wanted to risk getting blamed if it got ruined.

But my warning only made Susan laugh. "Hundreds of thousands for pocket money, and now a six-figure dress? Just listen to her, lying through her teeth!

"What are you waiting for? Strip her, then throw her out! My three sons will handle whatever happens. Forget hundreds of thousands of dollars! Even if it's millions of dollars, I could pay for it!"

With her backing, the guards grew even bolder. They grabbed Harper's dress and tore it without hesitation.

I watched as it unfolded before me. A sharp pain twisted through my chest, yet there was nothing I could do.

Before long, Harper's dress was ripped to shreds, each torn piece thrown onto the floor. The guards stared at her pale skin, and their gazes darkened with malice.

"Close your damn eyes!" I barked.

Almost immediately, Susan slapped me twice. "Not so fast. You're next. Someone teach her a lesson!"

As things spiraled further out of control, even the event coordinator hesitated.

"Mrs. Simmons, a warning should be enough. If word of this gets out, it'll cause trouble for Mr. Simmons, too—"

Before he could finish, Susan backhanded him. "Are you telling me how to do things? Everyone here wants to curry favor with my sons. Who would be foolish enough to let this slip?"

She shot everyone a piercing look and pressed, "Any of you have the guts to do it?"

One by one, the guests lowered their heads. The Prescotts were the most powerful family in Southford, but now, the Simmons brothers called the shots. So, of course, no one dared to cross them.

Their cowardice delighted Susan. Then, her contemptuous gaze settled on me again.

"This is the difference between high society and trash like you," she began. "I can buy their loyalty with money. Can you? Without money, you're nothing. After we humiliate you, you'll still come crawling back, begging for our favor."

Susan snapped at the guards, "What are you waiting for? Drag her out! She's not leaving here alive today!"

I glared at the guards and yelled, "I'd like to see you try. Blake Murray from Prescott Group is on his way. When he gets here, he'll prove exactly who I am!"

Susan had no idea I had a tracker installed on my phone. When she smashed it, she had triggered the alert.

My assistant, Blake Murray, would be here any minute.

At first, Susan didn't believe me. But when the event coordinator confirmed that Blake was on his way with backup, her expression darkened.

Agnes tugged at Susan's sleeve. "Aunt Susan, Mr. Murray is Gladys' right-hand man. He's always going up against Jerome. Maybe we should drop this. In two days, Prescott Group will belong to Jerome anyway. Let's not complicate things."

Susan frowned, impatience flashing across her face. "Consider yourself lucky. Take your worthless sister and get out!"

"I'm not leaving," I shot back, enunciating each word.

The event coordinator panicked when he heard that. "What's wrong with you? Mrs. Simmons is sparing you! She's letting you walk out of here alive, and you still don't know how to be grateful?"

I couldn't help but snicker. "The great Mrs. Simmons—mother of the Simmons brothers—is afraid of a mere assistant? What a joke."

All at once, Susan's eyes blazed with fury.

Agnes, on the other hand, shot me a taunting look before handing Susan a crystal ball. The crystal ball was Mom's gift to Harper, and it contained her final recorded message before she died.

The guards had my arms pinned, so I couldn't break free. My eyes were red with rage as I shouted, "Don't you dare!"

But Susan misread my reaction as fear. Her smug grin widened as she smashed the crystal ball into my face.

Pain shot through me, and blood blurred my vision.

The shattered fragments on the floor took me back to the year our parents died in the car crash. I had gotten down on my knees before their coffins and sworn to protect Harper.

And now, I hadn't even managed to protect the things they left behind. Worse still, Harper was lying naked in the hall, stripped of all dignity.

My eyes stung with unshed tears. Gritting my teeth, I said, "Every last one of you will pay for what happened today."

Once Blake arrived, I'd make sure none of them got away with it.

Susan let out an exasperated laugh. "Who do you think you are, threatening me? Since you have a death wish, I'll show you exactly what I can do. Break her arms! I want her crippled for life!"

She waved, and the guards twisted my arms harder. The pain was so intense that I nearly collapsed.

Seeing me drenched in a cold sweat, Susan's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Wait… I've changed my mind."

In the next second, she had the guards drag Harper into a small room. Her eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as she said, "Take this bitch with you too. I want her to watch her sister get humiliated.

"Afterward, send the two of them to the black market auction. It'd be a waste if faces like theirs weren't used for men's pleasure."

Something inside me snapped at once. I glared at Susan. "I'll kill you, you monster! Let me go!"

"You bitch! Are you trying to outsmart me? The black market has plenty of ways to deal with you. They'll take their time, toy with you, and watch you die!" Susan sneered, her eyes glinting with malice.

Just then, a commotion broke out outside, and the doors swung open.

Susan's expression tightened, while the event coordinator stomped anxiously. "What do we do? Mr. Murray's here! If Ms. Prescott finds out, we're all finished! No one in Southford would dare cross her!"

But in the next instant, Agnes shouted excitedly, "Yes! Aunt Susan! It's Jerome, Logan, and Tyler!"