Shame My Sister, Face My Wrath

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!"