All Chapters of My Charity Case Wants $50k: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"Get outta the way! What are you, a speed bump?"An arm slammed into my back. I lost my grip on my suitcase and stumbled.Something crashed behind me—loud. Then a high-pitched scream.I caught my balance and turned. A girl in a spotless Chanel skirt suit was on the floor, next to a silver Hermès suitcase.One corner was dented. She was clutching it like a lifeline, staring at the damage like someone had kicked her dog. Pale as a ghost."My suitcase!" she shrieked, whipping her head up so fast her blinged-out nails nearly stabbed me. "Are you blind?! Watch it! This is Hermès—fifty grand! Limited edition! Discontinued! You wrecked it, moron!"Her voice echoed down the dorm hall. Doors cracked open. Freshmen peeked out, whispering like it was drama o'clock.I glanced at the suitcase—silver shell, custom everything. Then I saw it.Tiny metal tag on the side, frosted finish. Two fancy letters: VV.Vincci Visconti.No wonder it looked familiar.I looked up at the drama queen losin

It was Roger. My boyfriend. We'd gone to the same high school and somehow ended up at the same university.The second Sharon spotted him, she scanned him head to toe. Then—like flipping a switch—her voice dropped into this soft, fake-cry tone, all wounded and delicate.She even swayed like she might faint. "This is your girlfriend, right? You're just in time. She wasn't watching, pushed me down, and ruined my brand-new suitcase."Instead of apologizing, she YELLED at me. My arm really hurts. How could your girlfriend be so MEAN?"Roger looked at me, then back at Sharon.That designer outfit hugged her in all the right places. Cartier watch catching the light. Van Cleef necklace perfectly placed. Add those teary Bambi eyes...I saw the flick in his gaze. The swallow in his throat."Vincci," he said, frowning. That tone? Full of blame. "Did you really bump into her? Why were you so careless?"Just say sorry, okay? That suitcase costs a fortune—what's the big deal? Don't make a sc

My shoulder slammed into the cold wall, pain shooting down my back.Before I could catch my breath, Sharon was already winding up—hand raised, eyes gleaming like she'd just won. She aimed straight for my face."Stop!"The voice cut through everything. Deep. Commanding. No room for argument.Her hand froze mid-air, caught in a larger one that clamped around her wrist like a vise. She couldn't move.Sharon spun around, stunned. Her face went pale as the pain hit.Striding toward us was a sharply dressed couple, faces tight with barely contained fury. Right beside them stood the man gripping Sharon's wrist.My parents. And Alfonso, our bodyguard."Dad? Mom?" I blinked, stunned. "I thought you were coming tomorrow.""Vincci, are you okay?" my mom rushed over, gently checking my shoulder and back, eyes full of worry.My dad's face was stone—cold and razor sharp as he stared Sharon down. "Let go," he said flatly. "Now tell me—why were you about to hit her?"Alfonso let go of her w

"No... impossible..." Sharon's lips were shaking so bad she could barely speak. "How could it... how could YOU be... Vi- Vi-Visconti..."Then boom—she shot up from the floor, tripped over her own feet, and collapsed right in front of us."Mr. Visconti! Mrs. Visconti! Ms. Visconti!" She was full-on ugly crying now—tears, snot, the whole meltdown. "I messed up! I was so, so wrong! I didn't know who I was dealing with! I had no clue! Please, I'm begging! I'm nothing! I don't even deserve to breathe! I screwed up everything!"She started wailing, clawing at her own face, smacking herself so hard the slaps echoed through the hall. Totally unhinged.Between sobs, she gasped, "I fought so hard just to escape that dirt-poor dump I came from. You have no idea what I went through! I can't go back! I'd rather die than go back!"Please, Ms. Visconti! Your family's supported me for years—don't throw me away! I'll be your maid, your servant, whatever you want!"I'll pay you back forever, just

Three days later, 4:50 p.m. sharp, my phone buzzed. Banking app lit up with a deposit—$172,360. Exact amount.Right after, an unknown number popped up."M-Ms. Visconti..." Her voice was wrecked—raspy, shaking, stuffed with sobs. "I... I transferred the money. Did you get it? Is it enough?"I borrowed from everyone—relatives, old classmates, even people back home. I even took out payday loans. The interest is insane. They took my ID as collateral."So... does this mean... it's over?"She sounded so desperate, like hope was her last lifeline.Payday loans? Giving up her ID? She'd really boxed herself in—guess she's digging her own grave."I got the money." My tone stayed flat. "I keep my word. It's done. Whatever happens next... that's on you.""Thank you! Oh my god, thank you, Ms. Visconti! You're an angel! A saint! Thank you, thank you!" Sharon was practically hysterical, like I'd just handed her a second life.I hung up and tossed her number straight onto my blocklist."You'