The sky opened up, dropping a freezing drizzle over the school parking lot. Bryn walked briskly toward the massive, custom black Cadillac SUV that belonged to her family.
Old John, the family driver, stood by the rear door holding a massive black umbrella. When he saw Bryn approaching, he quickly pulled the heavy door open for her.
Bryn ducked her head to get in, but she stopped dead in her tracks. The spacious leather backseat was already full.
Her younger brother, Kile, sat on the far left, aggressively tapping his phone screen with his headphones on. Fabiola sat in the middle, her hands folded neatly in her lap, looking like a perfect angel.
And sitting in the premium right-side window seat was Keifer. He was leaning back against the headrest, completely relaxed, not even wearing his seatbelt.
In her past life, Keifer used her family's money to live like a king. He rode in her cars, lived in her house, and treated her wealth like it was his birthright.
Bryn's hand gripped the edge of the door frame. Her eyes turned to ice. She stared directly at Keifer's relaxed face.
Keifer saw her standing in the rain. He assumed she was still throwing a fit over the hallway incident. He flashed a charming smile and patted the empty space next to his leg, telling her to get in.
Bryn didn't move a muscle. The rain soaked into the shoulders of her blazer. She looked him dead in the eye and said one word: "Out."
The air inside the SUV froze. Kile pulled one headphone off his ear, his eyes wide as he stared at his sister, who usually worshipped the ground Keifer walked on.
Fabiola immediately snapped into character. Her eyes welled up with tears. She reached out and softly touched Bryn's sleeve, begging her not to be mean because it was raining outside.
Keifer's smile vanished. His face flushed with anger. He couldn't believe she was disrespecting him in front of the hired help.
He tried to laugh it off, telling her to stop acting crazy. He reminded her that the Callahan estate was ten miles away and asked if she expected him to walk.
Bryn let out a sharp, mocking laugh. She asked him if his legs were broken. She asked if he was too poor to afford an Uber with the eight hundred dollars he just sent her.
The mention of the money hit Keifer right in his fragile ego. His face turned a dark, ugly shade of red. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth squeaked.
Old John sensed the danger. The massive driver stepped forward, his broad shoulders blocking the light, silently threatening Keifer to move.
Bryn pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the wet, muddy asphalt outside the car. She told him he had two choices: get out on his own, or she would have the bodyguards drag him out by his hair.
Kile watched his sister's ruthless face. Instead of defending Keifer, a slow, excited grin spread across Kile's face. He loved the drama.
Trapped by the staring eyes and the physical threat of the driver, Keifer's pride shattered. He grabbed his backpack, kicked the door open, and stepped out into the rain.
The cold water instantly soaked his hair. The perfectly styled locks flattened against his forehead, making him look like a wet, pathetic rat.
Fabiola's movements instantly froze. She glanced nervously at the muddy, freezing asphalt outside, and then looked back down at the warm, dry leather seat beneath her. Without making a sound, she slowly and carefully pulled her leg back inside the car.
Bryn locked eyes with her adopted sister. Her gaze was lethal. She warned Fabiola that if she felt so bad for him, she could walk the ten miles too, and she would never be allowed back in this car again.
Fabiola looked down at her lap and forced a few tears to fall to keep up her victim act.
Bryn climbed into the SUV and slammed the heavy door shut, completely cutting off Keifer's furious glare.
She told Old John to drive. The massive Cadillac pulled out of the parking space. The heavy tires rolled directly through a deep, muddy puddle.
A wave of dirty brown water splashed up and completely soaked Keifer's brand-new, limited-edition sneakers.
Keifer let out a scream of pure rage. He kicked the metal trash can next to him, the loud clang echoing across the lot.
Fifty feet away, Dominic sat in the driver's seat of his Maybach. He watched the entire scene play out. His long fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the leather steering wheel.
A dark, incredibly satisfied smirk pulled at the corner of Dominic's mouth. "Good girl," he whispered to the empty car.
Inside the Cadillac, Bryn leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. She listened to the rain and started planning exactly how she was going to throw Keifer out of her house tonight.
