“I don’t want to waste my breath. This drink cost $398 wholesale. The penalty is one-thousand times the price. I’ll cut you a deal—pay $390,000 and we’ll forget the whole thing.”

The crowd gasped.

“Three hundred ninety thousand? That’s outrageous!”

“Outrageous? If you let kids steal now, they’ll steal gold when they’re older. She needs a good lesson!”

Hearing this, I pulled out my bank card and slammed it on the table.

“No need for discounts. I’ll pay $400,000!”

Rachel’s eyes lit up and she reached for it, but I pulled it away and said coldly:

“You’ll get the money only if the manager comes here and we review the surveillance cameras from start to finish.”

“If my daughter took anything, I’ll pay ten times more.”

“But if she didn’t, what will you do then?”

Rachel sneered:

“Don’t think I’m scared. That drink your daughter stole is a rare import, sold only here at our Seafood Buffet. If it wasn’t her, I’ll pay you $400,000 myself.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Fine. Deal.”

Thinking she was about to earn millions for the restaurant, Rachel was thrilled and immediately called the manager, Clara Johnson.

Within half an hour, Clara strutted in with arrogance.

She looked us over, arms crossed. “Rachel, these are the ones causing trouble?”

Rachel rushed to her side like a lackey:

“That’s right, Ms. Johnson. This woman’s kid stole something and refuses to admit it. She insists we check the cameras.”

Clara scoffed:

“Unbelievable. Riffraff like this think they can eat here? Looks like charging $3,800 a head is still too cheap.”

Three thousand eight hundred?

When I opened this chain, I set a uniform price of $980 per person.

She had secretly raised the price without reporting it.

I couldn’t help demanding:

“Other cities charge $980. Why are you charging more than three thousand here?”

Clara smirked like she’d heard a joke:

“Hick. If you can’t afford it, don’t come. You think New York is like other cities?”

Rachel chimed in:

“Mr. Shaw already gave this restaurant to Ms. Johnson. She can charge whatever she wants. None of your damn business.”

So that’s why the Ocean Palace Buffet in New York always showed losses—Edward had secretly handed it over to her.

I let out a bitter laugh.

“I heard Edward Shaw is already married with kids. So you’re saying you’re his wife?”

Clara’s face stiffened, but she forced her chin up:

“Becoming Mrs. Shaw is only a matter of time. Edward will dump that old hag sooner or later.”

Sophie gripped my fingers nervously. “Mom, does Dad really not want us anymore?”

I patted her back firmly. “Don’t be afraid. With or without him, I’ll protect you.”

The Shaw and Miller families had been bound in a business alliance since childhood.

When I married Edward, the Shaw family was already in decline.

I had used the Miller family’s resources, exhausting myself to rebuild his fortune.

His title as New York’s richest man came only because of the Miller family. Without me, he was nothing.

Hearing our conversation, Clara sneered even more:

“Like mother, like daughter. A filthy brat daring to claim a father she doesn’t have—what a disgusting pair.”

I was usually patient, but the one thing I could never tolerate was anyone insulting my daughter.

Today, these two had gone too far.

My eyes turned icy as I spoke each word clearly:

“If you dare spew filth at my daughter again, I’ll see you thrown out of New York!”

The crowd gasped.

“Is she insane? Talking to Ms. Johnson like that?”

“Doesn’t she know Mr. Shaw protects his women? She’s finished.”

Clara hadn’t expected anyone to insult her. Her face turned crimson.

“Bitch, who do you think you are!”

She raised her hand to hit me, but I grabbed her and flung her aside.

Clara nearly lost her mind.

She screamed at the door:

“Are you all dead? Get in here and teach this slut a lesson!”

At once, seven or eight bodyguards rushed in.

The customers and Sophie’s classmates panicked and hid at the back.

I shielded Sophie and snapped:

“I’m the CEO of Ocean Palace Buffet. If you lay a finger on me, you’ll regret it.”

The bodyguards hesitated, intimidated by my authority.

But Clara shrieked:

“You idiots, she’s nothing! Beat this mother and daughter to death if you have to. Edward Shaw will back me up!”

A chill ran through me, but I didn’t flinch.

I discreetly pressed the emergency call button on my phone and glared coldly at Clara.

She faltered for a moment under my stare, but then straightened again, emboldened by her ties to Edward.

“Stop bluffing. In New York, nobody dares touch me!”

She gestured, and the bodyguards raised their clubs and charged at us.

I threw myself over Sophie, taking blow after blow.

After a dozen strikes, my face was ashen, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth.

Sophie screamed, “Please stop hitting my mom!”

Clara, annoyed by the noise, snapped viciously:

“That thieving brat—break her hand!”

Rage exploded inside me.

“If you dare touch Sophie, I’ll fight you to the death!”

My daughter was my everything—shy, intelligent, and gifted in art.

She had won countless children’s painting competitions, and her teacher had predicted she would one day shine in the art world.

She practiced every single day, never once slacking.

If her hand was destroyed, it would be a lifelong regret.

But Clara only smirked.

“Hurts, doesn’t it? Who told your daughter to steal? Since you won’t teach her, I’ll do it for you!”

She ordered the guards to pin me down, then yanked Sophie away.

With a cruel stomp, she crushed her heel onto Sophie’s right hand.

The sickening sound of bones snapping echoed.

Sophie convulsed in agony, her screams piercing the air.

The onlookers couldn’t bear it any longer, shouting for her to stop.

But Clara snarled:

“Anyone who interferes, I’ll smash you too!”

My heart raced wildly, my vision blurred.

Only one thought remained in my mind—Clara must die.

Sophie, overwhelmed by the pain, fainted.

Yet Clara still wasn’t satisfied.

She pressed her foot on my head, grinding it into the floor.

“Bitch, this is the price of crossing me.”

I looked at her through the pain, each word sharp as a blade:

“I will never let you get away with this.”

Hearing that, her face twisted for a moment, and she raised her hand to slap me.

Just then, the police arrived.

The bodyguards restraining me quickly let go. Clara Johnson glared at me with hatred, then forced a smile as she greeted them.

The officer barked, “What’s going on here? A public brawl? You’re all coming back to the station with me!”

I struggled to my feet, cradled Sophie in my arms, and pointed straight at Clara:

“Officer, she and her staff framed my daughter for stealing and then stomped on her hand, breaking it. I want to press charges for assault!”

Clara’s eyes flickered with guilt, but she quickly retorted:

“Who framed who? That kid stole from the restaurant. The stolen goods are still in her bag!”

“And besides, she broke her hand falling. What does that have to do with me?”

Listening to her lies, I clenched my fists so hard my palms bled, barely restraining myself from tearing her mouth apart.

At that moment, Sophie slowly regained consciousness. Weakly, she whispered, “Mom, I really didn’t steal anything.”

Tears filled my eyes.

I had to clear her name today—otherwise, she would live under this shadow forever.

I said loudly, “The restaurant has surveillance cameras everywhere. One look and the truth will be clear!”

The officer nodded in agreement.

Clara’s face paled, and she shot a desperate glance at Rachel Lee.

Rachel stammered,

“Well… the cameras are broken. We haven’t had time to fix them yet.”

I snapped back, “Broken now, of all times? Who do you think you’re fooling?”

The officer, experienced and sharp, wasn’t buying it. He growled:

“You know the consequences of obstructing an investigation. Bring me the footage now.”

Panicked, Clara blurted, “Just a moment, I’ll call the tech staff.”

Then she slipped into the back, secretly dialing Edward Shaw in tears.

Twenty minutes later, Edward arrived.

He went straight to Clara’s side, soothing her for a long while before finally turning toward me and Sophie.

When he saw our faces, he frowned deeply.

“Grace Miller? Sophie? What are you doing here?”

I let out a cold laugh, glaring at him.

“Sophie and I came to surprise you for your birthday. But it looks like you surprised me first.”

“A mistress, and you even gave away my restaurant? Quite the achievement!”

Impatience flickered in Edward’s eyes, though he forced himself to look serious.

“Grace, don’t misunderstand. Clara and I are just boss and employee.”

Clara hadn’t expected me to truly be Edward’s wife. Her face turned ugly, and hearing his denial nearly drove her mad with jealousy.

Biting her lip, she put on a pitiful act:

“Mr. Shaw, even if they’re your family, they shouldn’t be allowed to break the restaurant’s rules. The kid stole, and I only said a few words. Then your wife threatened to kill me. Is this how you raise a child?”

At her words, Edward’s expression hardened.

“Grace, it’s bad enough you always spoil Sophie, but how could you allow her to steal?”

Sophie’s eyes welled with tears.

“Daddy, I didn’t. I really didn’t.”

But he only shot her a cold glance and sneered:

“You’ve always been weak and dull. I thought you’d grow out of it, but instead you’ve become worse. You’re a disgrace to the Shaw family!”