“Quincy, what the hell?!”
He rushed to Rachel, his hands hovering over her like she was something precious.
“Rachel, are you okay?” His voice was full of concern, full of care.
Tears welled up in Rachel’s wide, innocent eyes. She bit her lip, shaking her head, playing the victim.
“Quincy, I, I’m sorry… maybe this is a misunderstanding?” she murmured, her voice trembling just enough.
I let out a cold, sharp laugh.
“A misunderstanding?” My voice dripped venom. “An apology isn’t gonna cut it.”
I raised my hand again, ready to strike her one more time,
Samuel caught my wrist mid-air.
So, I redirected, and slapped him instead.
Hard.
A bright red mark bloomed across his cheek.
His jaw tightened.
“You’ve lost your damn mind,” he hissed. “You think I won’t fight back?!”
Before I could answer, a teacher rushed over, flustered.
“What is going on here?”
I turned to her, my voice shaking with rage.
“This little brat, ” I pointed straight at Leo. “Took advantage of my absence and teamed up with his friends to beat my daughter unconscious!”
The room fell dead silent.
Rachel’s face went pale. She clung to Samuel’s sleeve like her life depended on it.
“That’s not true!” she gasped. “Leo is a good boy! Samuel, you have to believe me!”
I took a slow, deliberate step forward.
“Not true?” My voice dropped, ice-cold. “Then why do you think an ambulance just left this school?”
Samuel stiffened.
And then, he did exactly what I should’ve expected.
He stepped in front of Rachel and Leo, shielding them like some noble protector.
“They’re just kids,” he said through gritted teeth. “They don’t know any better. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. And now you’re hitting people? You’re acting like a damn lunatic.”
Then, without warning,
He shoved me.
Hard.
I hit the ground, my palms scraping against the rough floor. Blood welled up in thin red lines.
And that’s when the whispers started.
“She’s just trying to scam money.”
“Look at her, so desperate. Mr. Brown is rich, and she wants a piece of it.”
“She probably tried to seduce him and failed. Now she’s throwing a tantrum.”
“Pathetic. Typical homewrecker behavior.”
Their sneering faces blurred in my vision.
Then,
The deep roar of engines.
Three luxury cars pulled up in front of the school, sleek and unmistakable.
The crowd shifted uneasily.
Someone gasped.
“That’s Flying Group’s logo. Those are executive cars!”
Another parent, eager to kiss up to Samuel, smirked.
“Looks like Mr. Brown called in his legal team already.”
A particularly nasty mother sneered down at me.
“You’re done for, homewrecker,” she spat. “Flying Group’s lawyers have never lost a case in Deerfield. Hope you’re ready to pay up and rot in jail.”
Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Some of the parents, wannabe influencers, were already pulling out their phones, their eyes gleaming with the chance to go viral.
They thought this was entertainment.
They thought I was going down.
I wiped the blood from my hands.
Then, slowly, I got to my feet.
They had no idea what was coming.
