The Heiress They Mistook for a Nobody

My father always said the Sinclairs and the Farleys were old families, that when old Mr. Farley was young he had once helped him.

So I'd planned, for the old man's sake, to leave Miles Farley some shred of dignity.

Violet Gilbert's words killed the last bit of hesitation I had.

If she'd rather take the hard way than the easy one, then she couldn't blame me for showing no mercy.

Five or six women in barely-there clothes, teetering on heels, closed in around me.

From the look of them, they'd bullied plenty of soft, timid girls before.

Pity for them. This time they'd hit a wall of iron.

Violet stood behind them, running the whole thing.

"Same as always. Rip her hair out first, then carve up her face."

"Let's see if she still dares reach for something so far above her!"

Clearly they'd done this countless times. They even had their own routine down.

I sighed inwardly.

My father had spent decades in business, read more people than anyone, and even he'd been fooled by Miles Farley.

Upstanding, was he?

Please. A man who'd let a kept woman run this wild had a heart darker than anyone could guess.

While I was thinking, one woman's long, sharp nails were already jabbing toward my face.

I turned my head and blocked with my right hand.

She toppled against the marble table, a nail snapped clean off, and she went straight over.

She clutched her hand and shrieked in pain.

The others exchanged glances, not daring to come near me.

I stayed seated, and lifted my eyes just slightly to Violet behind them.

"Violet Gilbert, right? I suggest you get down on your knees and apologize to me right now."

"I'm not someone you can afford to cross. Even Miles Farley wouldn't have the nerve to talk to me like this."

"Apologize my ass!"

Her mouth ran filthy, cursing my ancestors back generations, and when even that didn't satisfy her she shoved up her sleeves and came at me herself to rip out my hair.

I shot up, swung my arm, and slapped her hard across the face.

The force sent her staggering back two steps, nearly dropping to the floor.

"You bitch! You dare hit me! You want to die!"

Her shrill voice nearly split the ceiling.

"Somebody! Drag her out and strip her, do whatever you want with her!"

"When you're done playing, sell her to the black market. The money's your bonus!"

The next second, a dozen or more burly men in suits stormed into the room.

Looking at them, I frowned.

Next time we trained the staff, they needed to learn not to treat every customer like royalty.

Otherwise any stray dog off the street got let in.

Violet thought I was scared. She tipped up her chin and smiled, pleased with herself.

"I know you're a country bumpkin, raised on slop, strong from feeding pigs since you were a kid."

"But no matter how strong you are, can you beat bodyguards?"

She giggled, chin high and smug.

To me she looked exactly like a clown.

I simply picked up another bite of meat, put it in my mouth, and chewed slowly.

The chef was good. I'd give him a raise tomorrow.

Seeing me so calm and unbothered, like she'd punched into cotton, Violet stamped her foot in fury.

"Death's at your door and you're still putting on an act!"

"Let's see if you can keep it up down in hell!"

At Violet's command, two of the men flipped through the air and were at my side in an instant.

One on each side, reaching to haul me up.

Just as their hands were about to touch me, a furious roar came.

"Stop——"