Part 3Axe Wielding Heiress Defies The Elites

A few days passed in a strange, quiet truce.

Before I could really start investigating the family dynamics, I was told I’d been enrolled in the same elite private school as Maisie.

Finally, I thought. The School Arc.

Maisie probably realized she couldn't break me at home, so she was going to use her "Queen Bee" status to make my life a living hell on campus.

Monday morning, as I headed for the door, Maisie came running up, out of breath. She shoved a breakfast burrito into my hand and wheeled out a bubblegum-pink electric scooter. "Aggie! Let me give you a ride to school!"

I stared at the scooter, then at the sprawling mansion behind us. "Does this family not own a car?"

"The... the car is in the shop," she stammered, looking pained.

I patted her shoulder. "Maisie, your lies are getting pathetic."

Her face turned bright red. "I... I..."

I didn't wait for her to finish. I grabbed a Lime scooter from the sidewalk and zoomed off.

At the school gates, I didn't even get five feet before a guy with bleached-blonde hair and a sneer blocked my way. "The boss wants to see you."

I looked up. A few yards away, a guy was leaning against a black Range Rover, sucking on a lollipop and holding a photo. "So, you’re the hillbilly the Montgomerys dragged home?"

I rubbed my hands together. Yes. Finally. The Plot is moving.

He looked me up and down with pure disgust. "I’m Hunter. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll crawl back to whatever hole you came out of."

I flipped a piece of invisible lint off my shoulder and gave him my best 'main character' smirk. "I'm your worst nightmare, kid."

Hunter’s face turned purple. "You... you little..."

The surrounding students gasped.

"Who is she? Nobody talks to Hunter like that!"

"She’s a dead girl walking."

Hunter waved his hand at his goons. "Teach her some manners!"

"Stop! Don't touch my sister!" Maisie came sprinting toward us, nearly tripping over her own feet.

Hunter didn't even look at her. He just stuck out a foot, tripping her. She went face-first into the dirt right in front of me.

I looked down at her. "Okay, that was a bit much. You don't need to bow that low."

Maisie started sobbing, but she still tried to scramble up and stand between me and Hunter.

Hunter just pushed her back down. "Shut up, you little brat. Get lost before I make you."

Maisie’s eyes were wide with terror. She stopped crying. She looked paralyzed.

I looked at Hunter, then back at Maisie. I looked at Hunter again. He had the same arrogant, shifty eyes as Mrs. Hannigan, the housekeeper.

Oh. I get it now.

The "fake daughter" wasn't a villain. She was a punching bag. And the housekeeper's son was the one holding the whip.

I stepped forward, grabbed Hunter by the collar, and executed a perfect judo hip throw. He hit the pavement with a sound like a wet sack of flour.

"The name," I said, leaning over him, "is Aggie."

Hunter was wheezing, clutching his back.

I looked at Maisie on the ground. "Get up. Kick him."

She blinked through her tears. "I... I can't..."

I glared at her. "Kick him, or I’ll kick you. Pick one."

Maisie shivered, found a spark of courage somewhere in her gut, and delivered a shaky kick to Hunter’s ribs. Then another.

Hunter howled. "You’re dead! Aggie, I’m gonna kill you!"

As the crowd dispersed, Maisie followed me like a lost puppy, her eyes full of something I hadn't seen before.

"Aggie, that was... incredible."

"Aggie, you’re so cool."

"Aggie..."