The Boss' Kid Is Here to Clean Things Up

I assumed my post before the New Year, and to prevent the employees from reading too much into things, I specifically wore a custom-made, unbranded suit. I had just straightened the holly that the wind had knocked out of place at the shop entrance when a harsh shout suddenly broke out behind me.

"That intern over there! Get over here this instant!"

I was stunned for a moment, as it was the very first time in my life someone had addressed me that way.

I hadn't even had the time to process what was happening when a dust-covered broom came down hard on my leg.

It was then that the manager, whose suit was about to split open from his beer belly, scowled and glared at me. "Why are you just standing there? What's the matter with you? Do you intend to disobey your senior colleagues?"

I looked down at what I was wearing. I might not be wearing something with a visible brand, but I certainly didn't look like an intern who came to sweep the floors by any stretch of the imagination. I looked at him again and noticed the name tag pinned to him—Deputy Manager, Patrick Walker.

"Get all that confetti and fallen leaves away from the door this instant! Give it a proper sweep from top to bottom! You'll answer to me if this causes any delay to the inspection!"

Patrick turned and walked to the opposite side of the dealership after saying that, waving his hands as he barked orders at a few younger employees.

He soon marched back over after noticing that I was still standing there with a scowl. He snatched a dirty rag from a nearby corner and hurled it right at my face.

"Do you even know how to do your job? You're taking forever just to sweep up! Go scrub the restroom inside and out; otherwise, you can forget about passing your probation!"

That dirty rag hit me square in the face, bringing with it a musty stench and the sharp bite of cleaning chemicals.

I had painstakingly styled my hair so that I could head straight to a banquet this evening, but now it was completely ruined.

In that instant, my temper flared up. "What the hell is wrong with you? I don't work here as an intern!"

I had no intention of wasting any more time on him. I turned to leave, planning to get some spare clothes from my car and change into them. I had taken only a couple of steps when Patrick strode over and blocked my way.

He then raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. "Didn't you hear what I told you? Go clean the damn restroom! How dare you talk back to me! You've got a lot of nerve!"

I clutched my stinging cheek, laughing in sheer disbelief. I had never been hit in my entire life; even Dad had never struck me. He was merely an obscure deputy manager within a subsidiary of Lingard Group. He had absolutely no right to order me around when I was the heir to the entire Lingard Group.

I was blinded by a sudden surge of fury, causing me to snap back purely on instinct. "I'll have you permanently blacklisted from this entire industry if you hit me again!"