Chapter 3

Ethan froze, clearly not expecting that. After all, I'd always been well-behaved, quiet, and top of the class.

But that was just the version I showed the world. As a Grant daughter, I couldn't afford to embarrass my parents.

Inside, I was much more like Lucas—mischievous, loud, and a little full of myself.

Now that I was no longer part of the Grant family, I felt like the leash had finally come off. One came at me, and I snapped back. Two came at me; I took them both on.

Ethan was already trying to let it go when Sophie—who knew what possessed her—jumped in to defend him. "Charlotte, you and Ethan grew up together. How could you talk to him like that?"

That was when I knew—something was seriously off in her head.

Since she'd opened the door, I didn't bother holding back. "You said it yourself—he and I grew up together. He didn't say a word. So who are you, exactly? Are you even relevant here?

"You're a nobody, just another extra passing through his life. Don't flatter yourself."

Sophie squared her shoulders and looked like she was about to rush at me. She took two steps—then forced herself to stop. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned to Ethan, clearly hoping he'd step in and defend her.

But all he said, flat and restrained, was, "That's enough. Leave Charlotte alone. I'm fine."

Sophie's face instantly went pale. She shot me a bitter look.

She'd only just returned to the Grant family, so she probably still didn't understand the relationship between Ethan and me. It was not like we were enemies or anything.

I sneered inwardly. I was curious to see just how long this "real heiress" act of hers could last.

*****

At lunchtime, I went to the cafeteria and got in line. When it was my turn, the lunch lady's hand suddenly got shaky. She scooped barely a third of the usual portion onto my tray. As for the main dish, I had to squint to find a piece of chicken no bigger than a fingernail.

I stayed right where I was. The students behind me started complaining.

"Hey, fake heiress, move it. We're hungry too. You should be grateful they're even letting you stay here. Don't get picky."

"Yeah! Do you have any idea how expensive a meal here is? With your status now, you're lucky to get anything at all."

Even the lunch lady raised her voice, all attitude. "Move it! People are waiting. That's all you get. Eat it or don't. I don't care."

I didn't need to think twice to know what was going on. Sure, she liked to treat people differently—but she wouldn't dare be this obvious unless someone had given her the green light.

I took a deep breath. Then another. Without missing a beat, I snatched the ladle right out of her hand and piled a generous portion of fried chicken onto my tray. Then I picked up a second plate and loaded it with sides—mashed potatoes, vegetables, and a bowl of soup.

Tray in hand, I walked straight up to the girl who'd been rushing me. Before she could react, I lifted the plate and smashed it into her face. "If you're in such a hurry to eat, then eat all you want."

She shrieked, "Charlotte!"

The cafeteria exploded into chaos. Some people gasped. Others leaned in eagerly, enjoying the show.

I calmly turned around, picked up my tray, and walked to a window seat. Then I sat down and ate, completely unfazed.

The experts were right—don't bottle up your anger. So, I let it all out right then and there. As for payback? That would come after school.