My classmate Missy—now engaged to the city’s richest bachelor, Carter Thorne—sent a group chat invite to everyone but me. "I’ll serve tea to Carter’s great-grandaunt tomorrow," she wrote. "Certain jealous people should stay away." It started when a photo surfaced of me kissing Carter’s forehead, calling him "sweet boy." For two years, Missy branded me a homewrecker and bullied me relentlessly. I replied: "Even if invited, I’m busy overseeing my junior’s engagement." The next day, they ambushed me at the party. "You shameless bitch!" they screamed, breaking my hands, killing my cat, and locking me in a dog cage after pouring chili oil on me. Meanwhile, Missy knelt for hours, begging the great-grandaunt to accept her tea. Too bad my hands were broken. I couldn’t drink it anyway. 1 Carter Thorne, the powerful tycoon who ruled the city's business world, was kneeling respectfully before me, docile as a puppy. “My fiancée, Missy Vance, is a sweet and sensible girl. I’ve brought her here today for Great-Grandaunt’s approval. She’ll serve you tea and pay her respects, and from now on, she’ll join me in honoring you.” Sweet and sensible? The memory of Missy’s vicious words in the group chat made me frown. Carter’s grandfather, his hair already silver, saw my displeasure and immediately dropped to his knees, assuming he’d overstepped by arranging the engagement without my consent. “Although the younger generation is quite fond of this girl, if you do not approve, Aunt, then she is not worthy of marrying into the Thorne family.” The Thorne family was a century-old dynasty with strict, unbending rules. Though I was young, my seniority in the family was absolute. I held the reins of the family’s resources and its very future. To the outside world, he was the revered patriarch of the Thorne family, but in my presence, he had to kneel, never daring to cross the line. I gave him a cold smile and gestured for him to rise. “It’s fine. Let things proceed as planned.” She didn’t want me at her engagement party? I’d like to see how Missy Vance planned on marrying into my family. After they had all respectfully departed, a message popped up on my phone. The contact name read: That Annoying Dog, Damien Sterling. “Babe, when are we going to go public? If you don’t give me a proper title soon, I’m going to have to show up at your door and demand one.” The four great families of the capital were currently in a delicate balance of power. Damien Sterling was the formidable chairman who presided over all four, including the Thornes. The man everyone else feared was a shameless flirt when it came to me. I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Then by all means, come.” After I was done with my duties, I realized I was starving. I picked up my cat, Patches, and wandered through the manor. The engagement party was being set up in the side hall, with staff already arranging decorations. The evening’s festivities hadn’t begun, and the guests hadn’t arrived yet. Everyone was busy. When I reached the main dining hall, I saw that the luncheon table, which should have been cleared hours ago, was untouched. I remembered then: no one eats until I do. I sat down and began to feast. I’d barely taken two bites when a sharp blow struck the back of my head, nearly sending my face into the bowl. A woman’s shrill voice screeched in my ear. “You filthy beggar! I haven’t even eaten yet, and you dare to steal food?” Clutching the throbbing back of my head, I looked up and met Missy’s eyes. She had no idea that the haute couture gown she was wearing was one I had personally selected, yet her eyes were filled with nothing but contempt for me. “Skylar Thorne, have you no shame? I told you not to come. Not only did you sneak in, but you’re freeloading here too.” Her three lackeys stood beside her, their faces mirroring her disdain. “Do you know where you are? This is the Thorne estate. A poor country bumpkin like you doesn’t belong here.” “Look at what she’s wearing, so provocative. She’s obviously here to seduce Mr. Thorne and ruin the engagement party.” “Exactly! And she had the nerve to call him her ‘sweet boy.’ Mr. Thorne is the future head of this family. Who the hell do you think you are?” I gritted my teeth and retorted, “When I call him my sweet boy, it’s an honor. He should be smiling in his sleep.” To gain my approval, Carter had gone to great lengths to please me. In a moment of affection, I had kissed his forehead like one would a cherished junior. He was overjoyed and posted about it online, which led Missy to believe I was trying to seduce him. That was the beginning of two years of relentless bullying. They tore up my homework, stuffed dead rats in my desk, and poured red ink on my chair. They even started rumors online that I was sleeping with a middle-aged teacher and that my sick days were for abortions. For two years, my reputation at school was in tatters. I reported them to the police time and again, but it always ended with a forced, meaningless apology. I never imagined she would be audacious enough to bring her cruelty into my own home. “I am Carter’s great-…” Before I could finish, Missy grabbed the soup tureen in front of me and dumped it over my head. “Ah!” The scalding broth streamed down my head. A searing pain shot through me, so intense it felt like my scalp was shrinking. Before I could recover, Missy grabbed my ponytail and slammed my head against the table. Bang, bang, bang. My face repeatedly hit the hard surface. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I let out a choked cry of agony. Missy burst out laughing. “Hahaha, listen to her. I bet she sounds just as slutty when she’s servicing a man.” The thought seemed to enrage her further. She ordered her friends to hold me down. “Since you dared to steal food, we’ll break your hands.” “Missy, you wouldn’t dare!” I screamed. The words had barely left my mouth when she grabbed the heavy tureen and brought it down on my hands. Again and again, a piercing, bone-deep pain shot through my fingers. I was held down so tightly I couldn’t move, forced to watch as she smashed my slender, white fingers, twisting them into grotesque, unnatural angles. Just then, Patches, who had been bristling with rage, leaped at Missy, scratching her hands. “Ah! You damn animal!” Missy kicked him, sending him flying across the room. “Patches!” While they were distracted, I fought through the pain, broke free, and threw myself in front of my cat. “Don’t you touch him! If Carter finds out, he’ll never forgive you!” Patches was a gift from my grandfather; he meant the world to me. The previous family head had been stripped of his title and cast out by the family council for accidentally stepping on Patches’ paw and making me frown. He was now a beggar. Carter had earned my approval only after meticulously caring for Patches, even catching his diarrhea in his bare hands. “That’s right,” one of the girls said, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “I’ve seen the Thorne family’s cat in the news several times. It looks exactly like this one.” Missy, however, only grew angrier. “Are you trying to threaten me, you pathetic loser?” she sneered. “There are plenty of animals that look alike. Your cat is as worthless as you are. And even if it is the Thorne family’s cat, you think Carter would blame me over a damn animal?” A cold smile touched her lips as she exchanged a look with her friends. “Kill the beast. I’ll take responsibility.”
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