My fiancé broke off our engagement publicly, right in the middle of my grandmother’s birthday gala, because he'd fallen for the cleaning lady. “You’re a socialite, Penny, but that doesn’t make you better than anyone,” he declared. “I love Holly’s pure and gentle soul.” My grandfather, who’d been an occult consultant and geomancy master his whole life, was so enraged he threatened to exhume the Croft family's ancestral grave plot. The next day, the patriarch of the Croft dynasty arrived with his six other grandsons in tow. He was there to apologize. “My dear girl,” the old man said, sweeping a hand toward the line of impressive young men. “You may choose any one of them. The one you pick will be the next CEO and heir to the Croft legacy.” -- 1 “I am here today to break my engagement with Penelope Albright.” Harrison “Harry” Croft stood ramrod straight in a seven-figure bespoke suit, his hand firmly clutching that of a girl in a simple, pressed cleaning uniform. He bellowed the declaration, letting it echo across the ballroom where all the city’s elite had gathered to celebrate my grandmother’s eightieth birthday. The silence that followed was so thick, you could have sliced it with a butter knife. Every guest invited to pay their respects was now gawking at us. “You insolent fool!” My grandfather slammed his palm on the marble table, sending a fine porcelain teacup flying toward Harry. The trajectory was both distant and impeccably aimed. Harry instantly yanked the cleaner girl, Holly Davies, into his embrace and spun them around, taking the brunt of the flying teacup on his tailored back. He shielded her completely, a dramatic gesture of protection. I wanted to point out that the cup would never have hit her in the first place, but he was already turning back. He raised their clasped hands high. “I want everyone here to know, openly and honestly, that the woman I love is Holly Davies,” he announced. “Though Holly comes from humble beginnings, she is not beneath any of us. She is kind, optimistic, and strong. In my heart, she is ten thousand times better than Penelope Albright.” “You… you…” Grandpa was choking on his own fury, his face turning a dangerous shade of crimson. I patted his arm, steadying him, and glared at Harry. “Adultery and homewrecking. Is that what you call ‘honorable’?” Harry looked back at me without a hint of shame, delivering the line that cemented his place as a villain in my personal mythology. “Penny, the person who isn’t loved is the real outsider. Holly is a truly good person, and I won’t let you use that word to defile her.” The girl, Holly, took a step forward, aligning herself with Harry. She puffed out her chest, looking strangely empowered as she addressed me. “Miss Albright, I never intended to ruin a relationship. But Harry doesn’t love you. Even if you hold onto a one-sided arrangement, there is no real love between you two.” Her tone shifted to one of false sincerity. “It’s sad to be used as a tool for a corporate merger. Everyone deserves to be whole and have dignity. I believe that when you find your true happiness, you’ll actually be thankful that Harry and I took this step first.” I was stunned by their audacity. Dignity? They were lecturing me on dignity while standing there in a cheating tableau at my grandmother's party? “Holly’s right,” Harry interjected. “Even if you married me, I wouldn’t love you. Since you come from a privileged family, enjoying more resources and a better education than most, you should focus on something meaningful—not obsessing over men and calling others ‘home-wreckers.’” I felt the sudden, desperate urge to ask my father if we still had that antique cavalry saber tucked away somewhere in the armory. “Get them out! Throw them out!” Grandpa, all eighty-plus years of him, grabbed a dining chair, ready to charge them himself. My father and uncle managed to restrain him—Grandma’s birthday was decidedly not the time for physical altercations. Finally subdued, Grandpa glowered at Harry. “Mr. Croft’s son, we accept your cancellation of the engagement. As for the matter of disrupting this celebration, I will settle that with your elders!” “There’s no need to use my family to threaten me,” Harry said, arrogant to the last. “The Crofts are the wealthiest family in the state. Anyone marrying in is getting a major upgrade. I am my grandfather’s hand-picked successor. He won't turn on me for a Wells.” With that, Harry and Holly sauntered out, heads held high. My entire family was incandescent with rage. The remaining guests started whispering. Some even looked at me openly, with a mix of pity and thinly veiled schadenfreude. Grandpa let out a loud, contemptuous “Psh.” He then addressed the room: “Those of you who came only for the Crofts’ sake may leave now.” Faces immediately flushed with awkwardness. Soon, the once-crowded ballroom began to empty. Our family isn’t one of the truly top-tier dynasties; many of the prominent attendees were indeed here to curry favor with the Crofts. The atmosphere now felt like a sudden, humiliating end to a glorious run. Grandpa spat a silent "Psh" in the direction of the departing crowd. 2 Few people knew that the Albright family was, at its core, a lineage of metaphysical masters. Our legitimate businesses were mostly fronts; studying the threads of destiny and manipulating fate required discretion. Those who chose to stay for the sake of an aging matriarch, rather than running after the Crofts, would certainly be remembered by the Wells family. The next morning, Grandma was already orchestrating revenge. She ordered the groundskeepers to water the Croft Group’s corporate 'four-leaf clover' with boling water and to secretly steal the prized koi from their reflection pond. Grandpa was in the living room, calculating an auspicious day for maximum disaster, muttering darkly about exhuming the Croft’s ancestral plot. “To provoke a master of fate under his own roof! The Crofts’ luck is officially finished!” he spat, his mustache bristling. “Grandpa, digging up graves is terrible karma,” I intervened. “Maybe just make a voodoo doll of Harry? Something simple, like chronic itching, temporary impotence, and a few broken limbs? That should suffice.” Grandpa’s hand, holding the abacus, trembled. “Daughter,” he decided, looking weary. “Maybe we should just stick to the grave digging.” “Fine by me,” I shrugged. I rushed through breakfast and headed straight to the office. After Harry’s spectacle, I anticipated a flurry of canceled deals. Even though our real revenue stream came from less conventional means, the legitimate business mattered to our employees and their commissions. As I reached the lobby, my assistant, Walter, arrived. “Ms. Albright, you’re in early,” Walter greeted me, looking concerned. “Got to work, Walter. Which projects were flagged for termination? Get the heads of those teams on a call,” I said, walking toward the elevators. “Actually, Ms. Albright, all projects are proceeding normally.” Walter’s worried expression deepened. “After yesterday’s disaster, I expected total chaos, but there’s been zero impact.” Ah, I thought. The Crofts must have been scrambling all night to contain the damage. A very strong survival instinct, I had to admit. “Nothing to worry about then. Inform the teams.” I paused by the elevators, spotting a familiar figure: the same cleaner, Holly, bent over, mopping the floor. “Terminate her employment immediately.” “Yes, Ms. Albright,” Walter confirmed. Holly stood up, her face a mask of wounded shock. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong here.” I managed a strained smile. “Why the surprise? This is my company. Don’t you recognize your employer?” “Miss Albright.” Holly straightened up, looking pathetically wronged. “I’ve performed all my duties. You are only targeting me because of Harry.” I nearly laughed out loud. “Let me correct you: I’m targeting you because you disrupted my grandmother’s eightieth birthday party.” “I know Harry ending the engagement hurt you deeply. But you can’t bring personal grievances into the workplace. I work hard for my pay. You can’t fire me over private matters.” She looked on the verge of tears. Walter gaped at her, then leaned toward me. “She seems unstable. Should I call security?” “No need. Inform HR to process her termination now.” I turned to press the elevator button. “Miss Albright!” Holly cried out, her voice cracking. “Just because you are a privileged socialite and I am only a cleaner, does that give you the right to trample on my dignity? Cleaners earn their living with their own hands. We are not to be looked down upon.” Walter positioned himself between us, fearing she might lash out. “Ms. Albright, maybe I should call security anyway.” “It’s fine.” I waved Walter back and looked at Holly, the fragile, tenacious flower. “Your liaison with my fiancé and your behavior at the gala have nothing to do with your status as a cleaner.” “So you admit it’s because of Harry!” Excellent point, Walter. “Call security.” “Penelope Albright!” Harry, carrying a cup of coffee and two bagels, rushed in and immediately swept Holly into his embrace. He glared at me. “What did you do to Holly?” 3 I must have murdered their entire family in a previous life to deserve this. The moment Holly saw Harry, the tears started streaming. “Harry, don’t blame Miss Albright. I understand her pain from losing you. I know I shouldn’t be with you, but we have to protect our love.” Harry held her tightly, looking utterly besotted. “Don’t worry, my love. I told you I would handle both the Albright and Croft families. I will never let you suffer any indignity.” Even Walter couldn’t take it anymore. He muttered loudly, “Do either of you possess a single shred of human decency?” Harry ignored Walter completely, addressing me. “Penelope, control your assistant. I fell in love with Holly. She did nothing wrong. If you have an issue, take it up with me.” “Hmph.” I gave him a massive eye-roll. “My assistant, and everyone else in my company, has freedom of speech. I won’t police what they say or whom they criticize. As for you, you piece of stray, cheating filth, if you don’t want to be insulted, take your act elsewhere.” “You!” Harry’s jaw clenched. “Is this just you lashing out because I rejected you?” I wanted to curse his ancestors. Truly, the shameless are invincible. He then sighed dramatically. “I admit I handled this poorly. From now on, I can be like a brother to you. If you ever need anything, you can come to me.” “Spare me. You need to stop grandstanding and start worrying about your own hide. Your grandfather was busy yesterday, but today, you might just lose your legs.” I turned and stepped into the elevator. Harry darted forward and stopped the doors from closing. “What is your problem?” My temper was boiling over. Harry stood in the doorway, striking a pose of haughty superiority. “I told you, I am my grandfather’s successor. Even if I broke the engagement, even if I destroyed the Wells family, he wouldn’t raise a finger against me!” The next second, my stiletto landed squarely on his cheek. “Oops. My mistake. I bought that size too large,” I said dryly, retrieving my shoe and slipping it back on. Holly rushed over, cupping Harry’s face. “Harry, are you okay? Miss Albright is just in so much pain from losing you. That’s why she’s lashing out like this. She’s already suffered enough, please don’t retaliate against her family because of me.” Lock them up together forever. “My car’s outside. I can drive you two to the courthouse right now,” I offered sweetly. “Skip work. Get married.” Harry’s face twisted in conflict. Holly turned to me, her expression conveying a false sense of deep understanding. “Miss Albright, are you truly willing to bless us? I know how much pain you must be hiding.” Why do I always open my big mouth? Thankfully, my grandfather—a true savior when needed—called, demanding I return home immediately. I tossed my day's agenda to Walter, pushed past the toxic couple, and headed home. Harry’s voice, still shouting something about his "commitment," followed me. What a jinx. Those two were actively ruining my company's feng shui. When I arrived home, the living room was already buzzing. The Croft patriarch, Silas Croft, was sitting next to Grandpa. Clearly, the grave-digging plan had been aborted. Given their decades-long relationship, I knew reconciliation was always possible. Standing nearby were six young men: the other Croft grandsons. Ah, he’s brought the whole cavalry. The old man must have been too embarrassed to grovel alone, so he brought a distracting display of handsome youth. There was the one with the wide, powerful shoulders, Nathan (Brother 2). The sharp, dark-browed one, Wesley (Brother 3). The mild-mannered, refined one, Jasper (Brother 4). The most eager, Flynn (Brother 5), spotted me first and chirped, “Sister-in-law!” Snap. Wesley immediately slapped the back of Flynn’s head. Old Man Croft glared, too. So much for being clever. “Are we still having lunch?” I asked, keeping my expression neutral. Old Man Croft gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “Penny, my dear, I promise you, I will make this right. These are our boys. Any one you choose will be the next CEO and heir to our entire family.” I gestured to the baby Nathan was holding. “Does that include the one still on formula?” “Yes!” Silas Croft thumped his chest, looking overly generous. “Even if you wanted all six, I’d grant it. Harry is a fool and doesn't deserve you. We'll cut him out.”
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