Chapter 83 Breaking the Crown
Jessica's entourage giggled behind her, like they were auditioning for a villainous role in some bad teen drama. I could feel their eyes on me, hungry for a reaction.
I met her gaze calmly. "Jessica, you might want to reconsider who you pick a fight with today. I'm not in the mood."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by my words. "Oh, really? And what are you gonna do? Cry? Maybe beg for scraps like you did when Sinclair found you?"
Her words were sharp, but they didn't cut as deep as she intended. I smirked. "It's funny you think you know everything about me. It must be exhausting, keeping track of who's beneath you every day."
Jessica crossed her arms, her posture oozing superiority. "Please. You're hardly worth my time, but now that you're not the '
Rosette Lady'
you pretended to be, I figured I'd give you a reality check. You're nothing."
I felt a spark of irritation flare, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I leaned in, voice steady and cold. "I may not have blood ties to the Rosettes, but at least I earned my place in this world. You? You're just your parents' puppet. Without them, what are you? A spoiled brat who can't even spell
'reality check'
without their help?"
Her eyes flashed with fury, and she took a step closer. "At least I know where I come from! Who's going to marry an orphan like you? What kind of future do you even have? Probably begging for crumbs when Sinclair's gone."
I laughed lightly, shaking my head. "Marriage? Is that the best you've got, Jessica? I'd rather be an orphan with potential than a pampered princess who can't stand on her own two feet. Your parents may protect you now, but one day, you'll have to figure things out without them. And trust me, no one's gonna be there to wipe your tears when you fail."
Jessica's face turned crimson, her hands balling into fists. "You—"
I cut her off before she could finish. "What? You think your daddy's power is going to keep you on top forever? Newsflash: your entire personality is built on other people's success. The second you're forced to fend for yourself, you'll crumble."
She scoffed, trying to regain control. "At least I'm not a fake. You were never a real Rosette. You're just a stray Sinclair picked up, and now that the truth's out, no one cares about you anymore."
I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe I wasn't born a Rosette, but I've made more of myself than you ever will. You're a leech, clinging to your family's name. You think power makes you important, but it doesn't. Respect does. And let's be real—no one here respects you, Jessica. They only fear you."
The air grew still and tense. Some averted their eyes the moment Jessica's sharp gaze landed on them, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.
Others were clearly enjoying the spectacle, while a handful remained indifferent, like this was just another piece of gossip to fill their dull day.
A few, however, shifted uncomfortably, as if they were considering stepping in before things escalated into something more . . . dangerous.
Everyone knew Jessica's temper could flare in an instant, and her hands were just as fast. One wrong move and she wouldn't hesitate to lash out, physically or verbally. She thrived on that fear.
Jessica's confidence wavered for the briefest moment, her face faltering. I could tell she knew the truth as well as anyone—that fear, not admiration, was the only thing keeping everyone in line.
In fact, one wrong step was all they were waiting for, the moment they could finally get even with her. And she knew it.
But, as expected, she recovered quickly, putting on her best mask of superiority. "You don't know anything," she spat, voice sharp.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Sophie smirking from her seat. She was clearly enjoying the show—relishing in how the class was openly turning against me now that my status had crumbled.
To her, this was entertainment, a chance to watch me squirm under the weight of my newfound '
nobody'
status.
But I wasn't about to give her, or anyone else, the satisfaction.
"Really?" I said, laughing. "You really think they're your friends? They stick around because they're afraid of the tantrum you'll throw if they don't. But keep dreaming."
Jessica's friends exchanged awkward glances while the former's face contorted with anger. "At least I'm not alone like you! You don't even have real friends."
I shrugged. "I'd rather have no friends than fake ones. But don't worry—I'm not as alone as you think."
Jessica was fuming now, her usual confidence cracking. She stepped closer, almost nose to nose with me. "You think you're better than me? You're trash, Eve. And everyone is seeing that now."
I smiled, unbothered. "Keep telling yourself that. Just remember—you came at me first. And when your little empire collapses, I'll still be standing, while you're left wondering why no one wants to help you up."
Jessica's jaw clenched, her eyes burning with rage. Her entourage stayed silent, exchanging uneasy glances.
Unable to think of a retort, Jessica's frustration boiled over. Her eyes flared with anger, and before I could react, her hand flew toward me, landing a sharp slap across my cheek.
The sting burned through my skin, but I didn't hesitate. My fist clenched instinctively, and without a second thought, I struck back, aiming straight for her nose. The satisfying crack echoed in the room as she stumbled backward, clutching her face.
Blood trickled from her nose, and her wide, shocked eyes met mine. "Y-You! Bitch! You hit me!" she screamed, her voice trembling with disbelief.
I didn't flinch, my gaze locked on hers, burning with cold fury. "You hit me first," I said, my voice steady but laced with menace. "What? Did you think I wouldn't retaliate? Just know, I don't do catfights. If you come at me again, be prepared to lose your teeth and nails."
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