Chapter 3

I suddenly curled my lips into a faint smile.

"It’s fine. Don’t get yourselves involved."

…

The moment I stepped out of the classroom, Nicholas and his lackeys shoved me into the equipment room at the far end of the field.

Inside, I was met with a painfully familiar face—Stacy.

Nicholas stood beside her, tilting his chin toward me.

"So, this is the so-called sister who thinks she can throw her weight around just because your family owes her a favor?"

"Mm."

Stacy responded indifferently, then added, "But you shouldn’t bully her like this. I don’t want to become someone like her."

She played the part well—stubborn, aloof, and full of self-righteousness.

A far cry from the girl in my past life who once sobbed and begged Nicholas not to break up with her.

She must have learned something after reliving her life—Nicholas was the kind of bastard who only grew more interested when he was ignored.

Sure enough, at her resistance, his gaze softened with a hint of admiration.

Stacy took a deep breath, then sighed as if trying to reason with him.

"Besides, my sister has spent years studying the violin. Her hands are the most valuable thing she has—"

Nicholas cut in with a sneer. "The more valuable something is, the better it looks when it’s destroyed. Don’t you think?"

He waved a hand at the two guys holding me down.

"Do it here. Break her fingers, one by one. I want to make sure she never plays the violin again."

At his words, the air in the room turned suffocating.

A triumphant gleam filled Stacy’s eyes, barely concealed beneath her indifferent expression.

They shoved me roughly toward the parallel bars, grabbing a heavy dumbbell from the floor.

Just as it was about to come crashing down, I spoke.

"Idiots."

"What did you just say?!"

I met Nicholas’ gaze with a smile.

"If I were you, I’d think twice before stirring up trouble at school, especially with the Scott family’s stock distribution hanging in the balance."

His eyes widened in an instant.

I silently counted down in my head.

Three.

Two.

One—

The door to the equipment room burst open with a loud kick.

But the people standing in the doorway weren’t the ones I had arranged.

I turned, momentarily stunned, as I took in the group of girls standing there.

Back in the classroom, I thought that the courage it took for them to speak up was already the most they were capable of.

But I was wrong.

Sophie took a deep breath, clutching the arm of the girl beside her.

In her other hand, she raised an old, battered cell phone.

Her voice trembled, but her determination was unwavering.

"I already called the police."

A dead silence hung in the air for a few seconds.

Then Nicholas let out a laugh.

"Sophie Reed, right? Looks like the lesson I taught you before wasn’t enough. And now you think you can stand up for justice?

"Call the police? Do you have any idea who I am? You really think the cops can do anything to me?"

His cold, mocking gaze bore down on her, and Sophie’s face turned even paler.

But before she could respond, a sharp, authoritative female voice rang out from outside the door.

"If the police can’t handle you, then what about me?"

A woman in a deep blue silk dress stepped into the room, the sharp click of her heels echoing off the floor.

"Nicholas, didn’t I tell you? The family is in a critical period right now. Stay out of trouble."

At the sight of her, all the arrogance drained from Nicholas’ face in an instant.

"…Sister."

Juliette Scott crossed her arms, her expression ice-cold as she stared him down.

"Let her go. Go home."

Nicholas clenched his jaw, unwilling to back down.

"But Juliette, she was the one who—"

"It doesn’t matter. If you want to handle things, use the right methods. And pick the right time.

"Just because I’m stopping you now doesn’t mean I’ll stop you forever."

She was right where I expected her to be.

Juliette was here because of the anonymous letter I sent.

Last month, the Scott family’s patriarch passed away.