Chapter 3

I clutched my dislocated arm and staggered into the pouring rain.

The air behind me was thick with mocking laughter, and no matter how desperately I tried to block it out with my only good hand, their voices tore right through me.

As I walked through the downpour, Alonso wasn't about to let me off that easily.

He cruised alongside me in his car, matching my pace. "If you get down on your knees and beg me right now, maybe I'll take you to the hospital."

The storm howled around me, rain and wind pelting my skin until I couldn't stop shivering.

But I just clenched my jaw and refused to back down. I asked, "Alonso, do you really think your company would've survived this long without the foundation in my mom's name?"

He just laughed. "Who cares? Both the foundation and the company are in my hands now, aren't they?"

His shameless words made my blood boil. I spun around and slammed my good hand against his car window.

But I lost my balance and ended up sprawled on the wet ground.

Alonso casually opened the car door and stepped out, holding an umbrella.

Sydney was still clinging to him like an octopus, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Alonso spoke up. "Mandy, when your mom died, I was the one who claimed her body. That stench was so foul, I still haven't forgotten.

"And guess what? They say your mom jumped out of a stranger's room. How hilarious!"

Suddenly, that short video in my mom's hand came to mind, and a wave of rage and humiliation hit me. Hot tears stung my cheeks.

My knees were scraped and bleeding, but I didn't care anymore. I charged at Alonso, wanting nothing more than to slap that arrogant face of his, only for him to brutally kick me, knocking me flat on the rain-soaked ground.

"Mandy, hasn't your family always looked down on me? I'll never let you hold your head high again." Alonso sneered.

As I lay helpless in the rain, everything started to blur and my consciousness began slipping away.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I realized I was lying in a hospital bed.

As soon as I woke up, a familiar silhouette caught my eye. The second he saw me stirring, Wilfrid let out a deep breath, like he'd been worried sick.

It was Wilfrid, the successor to the Kimmons Group—he used to work with me.

Seeing me awake, he quickly passed me a cup of water, careful not to spill it. "How did you get yourself into this state?"

After I blacked out that day, it was Wilfrid who just happened to be passing by—and he didn't hesitate to get me to the hospital.

Wilfrid had always been a fan of my work. Back before everything blew up at the company, he'd tried more than once to recruit me to join him.

"My new branch just opened up. So, what do you think? Want to come over and be in charge of planning?" he asked.

I thought about the cocky attitude Alonso and Sydney had when they walked away.

Right now, I'd lost everything. If I wanted revenge, first I had to climb back up from rock bottom. Without a second thought, I nodded.

"Okay," I answered.

So that was how I ended up at Wilfrid's branch office. He let me take over the same role I'd worked before, and I fit right in, feeling completely at home with the work. Thanks to my efforts, the branch kept growing stronger by the day.

But some people just couldn't handle seeing me get ahead—Alonso was always the first to try and drag me down.

Even though the charity foundation's money pumped life into Alonso's company at first, it didn't take long for his overbearing personality to turn people off. Soon, folks all across the industry wanted nothing to do with him.

And as soon as word got out about Alonso's lack of vision, investors wouldn't touch his company with a ten-foot pole.

But predictably, Alonso blamed every last bit of it on me.

That day, Alonso burst into my office, seething with anger and ready to pick a fight—catching me right in the middle of my work.