Chapter 2
I thought turning off my phone would keep all the harassment at bay.
But I was wrong.
I'd seriously underestimated just how shameless and resourceful that family could be.
The studio door was shoved open with a loud bang, slamming against the wall.
Lily's face, shrewd and full of spite, appeared in the doorway.
Trailing behind her was a slick-haired, middle-aged man, no doubt her so-called "successful" son, Julian.
There was no trace of the desperate, pleading demeanor from the phone call on Lily's face now.
Instead, she wore a look of arrogant superiority.
Her sharp eyes swept over my studio, finally landing on me like I was some stubborn piece of furniture she was tired of dealing with.
"So, you're Hazel," Lily said.
She wasn't asking; she was telling.
"About time we found you," she said. "Cut the crap. You're coming with us to the hospital."
It was an order, delivered with such entitlement that it left no room for argument.
I sat at my design desk, didn't even lift an eyelid.
I kept polishing the half-finished ring in my hands.
"I don't know you," I said coolly.
My indifference clearly got under her skin.
But before she could blow up, Julian stepped forward.
He pulled a bank card out of his Hermès bag, held it between two fingers, and tossed it onto the desk in front of me.
The card slid across the smooth wooden surface, making a faint scraping sound.
"There are two hundred thousand dollars on this card," Julian said.
He smirked with the same contempt as his mother. "The password is six eights.
"Go to the hospital and donate blood to your 'brother,' and the money's yours."
The "brother" he mentioned was the kid I saved three years ago.
What a joke, pretending we were suddenly family.
Finally, I looked up at them, calm and unflinching.
They were just like they were three years ago, arrogant, measuring everything with money.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
To them, that was like doing me a huge favor.
They really thought that was enough to buy my blood, my dignity, my entire self.
I picked up the bank card and spun it between my fingers.
Julian and Lily both wore that smug, "I knew it" look on their faces.
Then, right in front of them, I bent the card gently.
Snap!
With a crisp crack, the card broke clean in two.
I let go, and the two pieces of plastic fell back onto the desk.
"You couldn't pay enough for my blood," I said coldly. "Now, get out."
Julian's face went livid, purple with rage.
Lily slammed her hand on the desk and went absolutely ballistic.
"Who do you think you are, huh? We try to help you, and you spit in our faces," she shouted. "Are you seriously just gonna let someone die? What are you, heartless or made of stone?
"If anything happens to my grandson, I'll shut this dump down for good."
As she threw a tantrum, she lunged at me, trying to grab my collar.
I leaned back, easily avoiding her slick, greasy fingers.
I picked up the landline on my desk.
"Security?" I said into the phone.
My voice was clear and icy, totally unruffled.
I said into the phone, "This is the design studio on the top floor. I've got two people here who broke in and are threatening me.
"Could you send someone up to deal with this?"
Lily was stunned, like she never expected I'd actually call security.
Julian furiously pointed at me, completely losing his cool.
"How dare you!" he yelled.
I ignored him and continued speaking into the phone.
"Yes, please hurry. They're starting to get aggressive," I said.
Less than two minutes later, two security guards in uniform stormed in.
They took one look at the mess and immediately sized up the situation.
"You two, get out," one of them ordered firmly.
Lily dropped herself onto the floor, wailing and slapping her thighs in a dramatic fit.
"This is unbelievable! The one who saved my grandson is just going to let him die," she howled. "This heartless woman is out to destroy our whole family."
Julian tried to argue with the security guards, but it was all just his warped excuses.
"We're here to make a deal! She's the one who doesn't appreciate a good offer!" he protested.
Security wasn't having any of it.
Each guard grabbed one of them and dragged them out.
Their shrill curses and wailing echoed through the hallway, getting fainter and fainter.
At last, the studio was quiet again.
I stared at the snapped bank card on my desk. It honestly made me sick to my stomach.
Some people never change.
Selfishness and arrogance were etched deep inside them, like it was part of their DNA.
After the Murphy family got thrown out, they didn't just walk away like I expected.
They switched to an even more disgusting tactic.
They camped out downstairs at my studio, refusing to leave.
Like two gatekeepers, one wailing nonstop, the other ranting at anyone who'd listen.