Chapter 3

Eleanor's eyes lit up, already looking forward to it. "Kensley, I was late to your last birthday and totally missed out on the Black Swan cake. This time, you have to order a bigger one so I can finally get my fill."

When Kensley mentioned the Black Swan cake, everyone in the room exchanged shocked glances.

Even if they'd never tasted it, they all knew those cakes cost a fortune—like, tens of thousands for just one.

People stared at Kensley with pure envy, and suddenly everyone was fighting to get themselves invited.

Kensley gave Eleanor a meaningful look.

Eleanor got the hint right away. "Of course you can come, but don't come empty-handed, okay? It's a birthday party—you're supposed to bring a gift. Kensley isn't exactly thrilled about anyone coming just for the free cake."

Kensley quickly smoothed things over, saying, "Seriously, it's fine. We're all classmates—just bring yourself, it's totally chill."

I was still trying to figure out how Kensley could just act like she owned the place when it wasn't even hers.

But before I could say anything, Eleanor jabbed a finger in my direction. "Vanessa, don't even bother showing up. Just the sight of you ruins Kensley's appetite—and ruining the birthday cake is seriously a bad omen."

I let out a cold laugh. "Whether I show up or not, that's none of your business."

Kensley shot me a look of pure disgust. "Vanessa, I never thought you'd have the nerve to actually want to come to my birthday party."

Eleanor snorted. "Yeah, right. The cake isn't for just anyone. You're more like a two-dollar Snowman Sip cone kind of person."

I kept my mouth shut, seriously couldn't figure out where they got the guts to look down on Snowman Sip.

Meanwhile, the other students were already buzzing about what kind of gift to bring for Kensley's birthday.

Kensley was busy fiddling with her brand-new phone.

Not long after, my phone buzzed with a message from her.

[Sir, my birthday's next week, and I've never had a Black Swan cake before. Could you help me order one? The bigger, the better.]

Staring at those icy texts on my screen, I just felt more and more like a total joke.

Kensley really just saw me as her easy mark.

I didn't reply, but she kept blowing up my phone with messages.

[Sorry about how I acted before. I know you're super kind—and honestly, way too handsome to just leave me hanging, right?]

[If it's okay, can we meet up? I really want to say sorry to you in person.]

Then she started spamming me with photos.

Every shot was dripping in filters and fake glamour—honestly, they all had this greasy, sour stench like she'd bathed them in desperation.

I felt a wave of disgust hit me and literally gagged.

Kensley heard me and shot me a glare, her brows knitting together.

She snapped, "Ugly people always make a scene."

Then she just went back to messing with her phone.

Meanwhile, my phone kept blowing up with new messages from Kensley.

[Sir, you're my savior.]

I couldn't help myself and muttered, "Psycho."

Kensley hugged her phone to her chest, shot me another glare, and snapped, "Who are you calling that?"

I grinned, couldn't help but raise my voice and shout, "Whoever replies to me, that's who I'm cussing out!"

Kensley snorted, "Psycho."

With that, she got up and went to join Eleanor's crowd.

She kept pulling out her phone and checking it over and over.

I knew she was waiting for my reply.

But she wouldn't be hearing from me again.

I asked my dad's assistant for the number of the housekeeper at the Southport villa—Kensley's mom.

I told her I'd be staying at the villa for a few days and asked her to get my room ready.

To my utter shock, Kensley's mom—the old housekeeper from Southport—actually lost her cool at me.

She snapped, "Miss, just because you're the chairman's daughter doesn't mean you can boss me around. It's fine to ask me to get your room ready, but you really should've let me know way earlier. There's no way I can have it all sorted with such short notice."

I couldn't believe it. "I said I'm coming back in a few days. Isn't that more than enough time for you to prepare?"

She raised her voice, nearly preaching at me. "Absolutely not. Do you even know how huge your house is? You want to move back in, you should've given me a heads-up at least half a year ago!"

I laughed in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? This is my home—and you're telling me a few days isn't enough? I need to call you six months ahead, seriously?"

She remained stubborn, totally undeterred. "Doesn't matter to me. You're not moving back in anytime soon. If you want your room, better plan for half a year from now."

Wow, just wow. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

Honestly, what kind of audacity did she have, making the owner and her actual boss wait six months?

No wonder Kensley acted like she owned the place. With a mom like that, it all made sense.

Like mother, like daughter.

I didn't bother arguing anymore. I just sent the recording straight to my dad's assistant.