Chapter 3 Another Round of Humiliation

• It was plain to see that Cynthia was unafraid and unbothered. In fact, she very happily finished her light meal and fell asleep right after her tray was cleared.
• She awoke much later to find that the plane had already landed. Looking around, she saw that the obstinate man was still next to her, and he was eyeing her dangerously.
• Her skin prickled in alarm as she registered the fearsome gleam in his eyes. He definitely hates me with a vengeance! She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest, but she put on an unfazed front as she stood up and said, “Move aside, please.”
• James, however, remained seated elegantly with his legs crossed. He did not budge and instead regarded her challengingly, as though to say, “Why don’t you lunge over my lap like you did earlier, if you’re so bold?”
• She felt frustration seize her once more. Is this greasy a*shole trying to humiliate me again? As if I’d fall for that! She scoffed quietly and stared at James mutinously, then suddenly broke out in a dazzling smile. However, as soon as she did that, she stomped on his foot.
• She was wearing stilettos, and she did not hold back when she dug her heel into the top of his shoe. To add to that, she knocked his legs aside unceremoniously, clearing her own path with no small amount of aggression.
• Having not expected this, James nearly stumbled out of his seat from the impact, and he scrambled to balance himself before crashing to the aisle. “Sh*t!” he cursed aloud, his face sullen as he glowered at Cynthia furiously. He looked like he wanted to tear her into shreds right there and then.
• Sensing danger, Cynthia hurried away from the spot before disaster struck, but not before she pulled a face at James and sneered, “Serve you right for giving me a hard time!”
• “Oh, just you wait!” James muttered darkly, a menacing smile twisting on his lips as spite colored his handsome features.
• Hovering to one side, the bodyguards could feel the air in business class plummet to sub-zero temperatures. They each felt a chill run down their spine like a merciless winter breeze.
• Charles, in particular, felt his back dampen with cold sweat. He had never seen James so enraged, and he wondered if the woman from earlier had grown tired of living, given how she had so fearlessly and persistently grated on James’ nerves.
• The storm had barely blown over when James abruptly doubled over to pick up a ring on the ground.
• The ring boasted intricate craftsmanship and delicately carved patterns, and engraved inside the band were two words: Cynthia White.
• James had no doubt that the woman from earlier had dropped this ring when she left in a hurry, which meant there was a high chance that she went by the name of Cynthia White!
• A smile curled on his lips once more, but rather than malicious, he looked as if he had closed in on new prey. “Charles, track down that insolent woman at once!”
• “Yes, Young Master James!”
• …
• Meanwhile, Cynthia was painfully unaware that she was on the radar of a man whom she should not have trifled with in the first place.
• Homebound, she stared out at the passing scenery from the backseat of a taxi. Even as the car drove past the familiar landscape, Cynthia felt no nostalgia, only resentment.
• As far as she was concerned, her return was only a prelude to the long war that she would inevitably face. She was a soldier geared and ready to take down those whom she was supposed to call her family, and it didn’t take a strategist to know how bitter the process would be.
• Dismally, she arrived at Phoenix Hill Villas, an old-money residential address that featured European architectures and sprawling estates. Cynthia used to love it here, but her affections were tied to memories of her mother. Now that she was gone, so was Cynthia’s attachment to this place.
• The family home was no longer what it once had been; Cynthia had lost out on her father’s favor, and all traces of her mother were being slowly erased as time passed.
• She had protested and thrown childish fits, but that did little to keep everything her mother had left behind. All that remained were her mother’s photograph and memorial tablet.
• At the thought of this, the resentment and rage that had pent up in Cynthia over the last year were on the edge of bursting as soon as she stood on the doorstep of her family home.
• She hated everyone in this home, be it her step-siblings who did not share her blood, her stepmother, or her own father. She would never have returned if there was anything she could do about it, but there wasn’t.
• She still had to keep watch over what once belonged to her mother, and no one else had the right to touch any part of it.
• With that in mind, Cynthia took a deep breath and opened the front door impassively. She had only just walked in when she came upon the happy family-of-four chattering away in the living room.
• Dominic was sitting on the armchair, and to his left was Faye, his second wife, who seemed weighed down with all her jewelry; to his right were Faye’s children—Keith and Daisy—who had become part of the White Family upon their mother’s remarriage.
• The four of them seemed to be in good spirits as they exchanged humorous anecdotes, and Cynthia couldn’t help feeling as if she stuck out like a sore thumb. It was as if she was a stranger in her own home.
• Just then, one of the more observant household staff noticed Cynthia standing at the threshold and hurried over to ask, “I’m sorry, are you looking for somebody?”
• Cynthia regarded the servant thoughtfully, then snorted. She had only been gone for a year, but apparently, it was long enough for the household staff to forget all about her. The decorations in the house had changed as well, and all sense of familiarity had disappeared.
• Ignoring the servant, Cynthia brushed past her and headed straight for the living room.
• The servant panicked and rushed after her. “Miss, you can’t just go in like this. You’re trespassing into private property!”
• Upon hearing the commotion, the four figures in the living room finally noticed Cynthia’s presence and shouted, “How dare you! That’s Young Mistress Cynthia of the White Family. You could at the very least know your place!”
• Young Mistress Cynthia? The servant appraised Cynthia for a few beats as hesitation colored her face. After a while, she finally muttered apologetically, “I’m sorry, Young Mistress Cynthia. I-I didn’t recognize you right away.”
• Cynthia merely smirked and paid no mind to the servant. Instead, her gaze flickered over to where her father was.
• It had been a year since she last saw Dominic, but owing to his extensive skincare, there were barely any changes on his face. No extra lines or traces of fatigue. It was almost like he had not aged at all, and he was in good spirits.
• Presently, Dominic crossed the living room and dismissed the faltering servant, then reached for Cynthia’s hands, looking sentimental as he said with red-rimmed eyes, “You’re finally home, Cindy. Did you have a good year abroad? You know, for a kid who has furthered her studies in some faraway land, you could stand to call home more often. Don’t you know how worried I’ve been?”
• Cynthia drew her hands away indifferently and scoffed contemptuously, pointing out, “Oh, you were worried? I thought you would have forgotten all about me, what with your new wife to keep you company and a fully staffed kitchen to keep your stomach full.”
• “C-Cindy, why would you say something like that about your own father?” The warm look on his face slipped as he stiffened at his daughter’s sharp remark.
• Faye came over and shot Cynthia a disapproving look as she said, “Cindy, your father has never stopped talking about you in the past year. He was worried about you, and even though he had Daisy to take care of him and keep him company, you’re still his biological daughter at the end of the day.”
• “That’s right, Cynthia. You don’t know how jealous I was whenever Dad brought you up. He missed you a lot more than I might care to admit,” Daisy interjected as she approached them with a pout, but Cynthia could see the gloating look on her face, as though she was trying to tell her, “I stuck by Dad over the past year.”
• Cynthia winced in disgust at the girl’s facade. As it turned out, the mother-and-daughter duo was still prone to putting on sickening acts.
• “If that’s the case, then thanks for remembering me, Dad. As you can see, I’m perfectly fine, though I’m sure that must be disappointing news for some,” Cynthia sneered icily, then stepped past all of them and headed inside.
• The only one who had not budged from the living room was Keith, and he smirked as he said mockingly, “See, I told you that she couldn’t care less about what goes on in the family. Your sentiments are all for nothing; she hasn’t even done as much as Daisy and I have. At the very least, we took care of Dad to the best of our abilities when he fell sick, but his only biological daughter never once bothered to come home to see him. Isn’t it ironic how she starts acting all high and mighty as soon as she steps through the door?”