Tsk, tsk. Guess this haul’s heading straight to the cops.
I pulled out my phone, ready to make the call, when the front door slammed open. David.
His face went beet-red as he took in the wreckage. “Claire, you little brat!” he snarled, voice cracking. “I’ll kill you today!”
Before he could even raise a hand, Rambo launched itself from the second floor, taking David down hard.
Grandma, who’d managed to escape earlier, let loose another scream. “David! Are you okay? That monster of a girl—I’ll skin her alive myself!”
Gripping her cane, she half-ran, half-stumbled down the stairs, looking like she was about to combust.
No way was I about to stand there and take it. Been there, done that—never again. Clutching my head, I bolted for the door, yelling like my life depended on it.
“Help! My dad and grandma are trying to kill me—for the maid’s daughter! What kind of witchcraft is this? Someone call the cops!”
Behind me, David’s footsteps thundered. “Claire! Keep running your mouth, and I’ll rip your tongue out!”
I didn’t stop until I reached the gates of the villa complex, throwing myself into my mom’s arms.
“Mom! Help! Dad and Grandma said they’d skin me alive and rip out my tongue!”
Mom steadied me, her expression shifting from shock to ice-cold fury as David stumbled toward us, panting.
“David Sinclair,” she said, her voice sharp enough to cut glass, “is this how you treat my daughter when I’m not around? Forget your CEO position. You and your mother can pack your things and head straight back to the countryside!”
David, still catching his breath, flailed to defend himself. “It’s not what you think! Let me explain! Claire’s completely out of control—arrogant, violent—she even sicced her dog on people!”
Mom’s sharp eyes flicked from David to Grandma, who had ditched her cane in her frantic rush to catch up.
Mom smiled bitterly.
“Oh, so you two pushed my daughter so far she had to unleash her dog? Impressive.
“Claire is always gentle and kind. For her to go to such extremes? She must’ve been wronged beyond belief.”
