Chapter 3

The driver thought I was making a delusional joke and slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration.

"Stop being so stubborn, girl! During the last all-staff meeting, Mrs. Vance and old Mr. Vance personally introduced her on stage. Hundreds of us saw it."

Lily pulled out her phone and swiped the screen.

"I actually took a video of it. Look."

On the screen, Beatrice Vance was gently wrapping her arm around Ashley's shoulders. Arthur Vance was speaking loudly into the microphone:

"Ashley will be taking over the factory in the future. She is our only daughter, and this entire estate will belong to her. Keep your eyes open, and don't cause any trouble for her."

The crowd in the video erupted into roaring applause.

Ashley was leaning into Beatrice's arms, her face glowing with the smug happiness of a beloved princess.

After watching the video, I remained silent.

My head was spinning from the blood loss.

But I was someone who only believed in what I saw with my own eyes. A staged corporate video wasn't going to convince me.

Just then, the car door was slammed open.

I looked out and saw Ashley quickly getting into a luxury sports car that had just pulled up.

She was rushing the driver: "Hurry up, drive! I can't be late for the banquet."

Our driver took the opportunity to nod toward the sports car and whispered to me,

"See that? Mrs. Vance sent her personal driver to pick her up for the elite gala tonight. She only hopped into our car earlier because she was worried her ride would be late."

Before the sports car sped off, Ashley didn't forget to throw one last vicious glare at me through the window.

I remained silent.

Regardless of whatever game they were playing, my crushed finger was the priority right now.

Without wasting any more time, the driver and Lily sped me to the emergency room.

The surgery was a success. When the anesthesia finally wore off, the hospital room was completely quiet. I was all alone.

Ignoring the throbbing pain, I grabbed my phone.

The calls I had made to my adoptive father, Jonathan Gibson, and my biological brother, Tristan Vance, had gone completely unanswered.

Right at that moment, the door to my hospital room was violently kicked open from the outside.

Ashley, dressed in a stunning, expensive designer gown, stormed in with a group of heavy-built men.

Seeing them marching in with metal pipes and bats, I recoiled slightly on the bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Ashley’s face was twisted in rage. She stormed over, grabbed me by my hair, and shoved her bare arm right in front of my face.

Her arm, which had been perfectly fine earlier, was now covered in ugly, inflamed red hives.

I tried to pull back, but her grip on my hair was too tight.

"It’s because of your filthy, diseased blood! I barely touched the seat and now I’ve broken out in hives!"

"I’ve never had a rash in my entire life! Back at the Vance mansion, everyone treats me like a fragile glass doll. Now my entire body is itchy and inflamed!"

"I swear, if this leaves a single scar on my skin, I will make sure you pay with your life!"

It was obviously a genetic case of hives, yet she was somehow blaming it on being "infected" by my blood.

What a ridiculous accusation.

I let out a cold laugh and snapped back,

"If you have time to make up fake medical claims, why don't you check yourself into the psychiatric ward first? Your brain clearly needs help."

Lily and Mr. Miller rushed into the room, having just received the news.

Seeing the tension, Lily tried to pull Ashley away from me.

But Ashley’s bodyguard stepped forward and violently shoved Lily against the wall.

"Chloe, please stop arguing with her!" Lily cried out, holding her bruised shoulder. "If you cross her at the company, she will ruin your life! Just... just apologize to her. Get on your knees and apologize so this can be over!"

I looked Ashley dead in the eyes, refusing to back down.

"Why should I apologize? I did absolutely nothing wrong."

"You can forget about it. Getting on my knees to apologize to this brat? Not in a million years."

Getting on my knees to beg a spoiled brat for forgiveness? This was the 21st century. What a joke.

Mr. Miller, ever the loyal dog, pointed at me and shouted,

"If you don't apologize to Miss Vance this instant, consider yourself fired! I will blacklist you from every company in this state!"

I almost burst out laughing.

Fire me?

I was personally placed in this factory by Tristan Vance himself. Did they really think they had the authority to fire me?

Besides, managing my own family's actual corporate affairs was already exhausting enough. Having to come to this stupid factory to deal with this drama was draining my energy.

Getting fired was actually doing me a favor.

"Go ahead and fire me. I couldn't care less."

***

###