Chapter 2

I was about to pick up when Stacey's heel shot forward and kicked the phone violently out of my hand. The device skidded away across the slick floor, spinning out of reach.

"You want to pick a call while I'm here? Have you lost your manners?"

Without dropping her gaze, she brought the sharp heel of her shoe down hard on the top of my head, pressing my face into the floor. The agonizing pressure sent a sharp jolt through my skull, making my teeth click together.

I whined, fighting through the dizziness as she finally lifted her foot. I stretched my hand across the tiles to retrieve my phone. I need to pick the call. Before my fingers could touch the phone, Stacey stepped in again and kicked the phone even further away from my reach.

"Still trying to get the phone?" She raised her foot higher this time and stamped down directly on my outstretched palm. An agonizing scream tore through my throat. "Ahhhh!"

I writhed, tears streaming down my face in hot, heavy streaks, unable to pull my hand back until she finally lifted her foot, satisfied with the sound of my pain.

"Trash." She sneered, wiping an imaginary speck of dust off her shoe. Bella and the rest of her crew erupted into loud, cruel laughter as Stacey bullied me.

The next second, a loud, sharp feminine voice rang out from the back of the corridor.

"What is going on here! Who is making trouble!"

I looked up through a veil of tears and saw the tall, impeccably dressed figure striding toward us.

It was Stacey's mom—my Dad's wicked fiancée that killed my mom and framed me. The primary reason I had been stripped of my rightful position and turned into a glorified slave in my father's own company. I knew her arrival wouldn't save me. It would only add fuel to my nightmare.

"Mom, thank God you are here!" Stacey said, instantly dropping her harsh posture and putting on a fragile, aggrieved expression.

"What happened?" Her mother closed the distance, her sharp eyes scanning the scene until they landed directly on me, pitifully sprawled on the tiles.

"Why is she on the floor?" She asked. Her tone cold and devoid of any genuine concern.

"I'm teaching her a lesson," Stacey replied, crossing her arms over her chest and puffing out her lip. "I told her to make coffee for me and she dared to tell me to make it myself."

"Has she suddenly forgotten her place?" her mom asked, narrowing her eyes as she glared at me.

"Maybe. I'm trying to remind her." Stacey said.

"You did well." Her mom praised her with a slick, satisfactory smile, then slowly turned her eyes down toward me, her. "So, you have started growing wings?"

"I know you will support her. Like mother, like daughter," I said, gasping between choked sobs as I used my uninjured hand to wipe the tears from my burning face.

"You filthy bitch." She spat. "For talking back to Stacey and disrupting the office, no food for you for three days. Secondly, make sure that every restroom in this building is shining once you are done with the paperwork."

I forced myself up slightly, my raw voice trembling with anger. "That's not part of my job."

"You are bound to do whatever I say. You don't have a choice here. I won't even force or urge you. You know the consequences of disobeying me." She said and stepped closer until the shadow of her designer dress engulfed me entirely. "And from today, you will be the one preparing coffee for everyone."

The surrounding staff exchanged knowing, cruel smiles, watching my final shred of dignity get trampled into the ground.

Suddenly, my father's personal assistant appeared at the end of the hall, walking briskly toward our floor while carefully dragging a large large mobile box.

All eyes instantly shifted away from me, turning to focus on him and the massive, luxurious box. The clique fell quiet, and even Stacey and her mother straightened up, surprised by his unexpected presence.

He stopped in the center of the office and cleared his throat to address the room.

"Good day, everyone. Inside this box is a birthday dress and shoes from the CEO, Mr. Orton." He said. "The dress, Nightingale of Kuala Lumpur, which is worth millions of dollars, and a matching shoe. This gown features the finest silk chiffon, and it evokes the exclusive luxury and haute couture of all time. It has a breathtaking embellishment, and more than 750 diamonds used to adorn the dress, including 63carat pear shaped diamonds at its center, all to create a dazzling spectacle. He is on his way from his business trip. His flight will arrive in a couple hours. He told me to deliver this dress to his daughter for her birthday." He finished.

My heart skipped. My Dad is celebrating my birthday? For the past three years, he has never celebrated or wished me a happy birthday. Am I dreaming?

A rush of wild, overwhelming joy shot through my chest, momentary blinding me to the ache in my cheek and the throbbing pain in my hand. I scrambled up from the cold floor in sheer excitement, wiping the tears from my cheeks as I moved eagerly toward the large wooden box.

Getting closer, Stacey stepped in and blocked me. "Stop right there. Where do you think you are going?"

"You heard what he said. Today is my birthday, and I'm Mr. Orton's only daughter. Step out of the way."

Stacey let out a mockingly sweet laugh, placing a hand on her hip. "We all know that he only cares about me. I'm sure he doesn't even remember that today is your birthday."

"Then explain why the gift is here if it's not for me." I replied.

"Tomorrow is my birthday, Vicky," Stacey sneered, tossing her head back with a triumphant smirk. "He must have miscalculated."

"Yes." Her mother chimed in, striding forward with her heel clicking sharply against the floor. "Tomorrow is Stacey's birthday. He must have thought it was today. What on earth makes you think a gift like this could ever be for you? Stop daydreaming and know your place."