Chapter 3

Clutching her stinging, reddened cheek, Zoey's grandmother turned scarlet with fury.

Zoey screamed at the guard, "Grab them! Beat them senseless! They must have a death wish!"

Beside herself with rage, Zoey's grandmother lunged at my grandma, claws out, trying to tear into her face.

Furious, I kicked the old woman hard.

With a loud splash, she tumbled overboard.

Before the guard could even grab her coat, she was already in the water.

Zoey completely lost her mind and screamed at me, "Megan Miller! You’re going to pay for my grandmother's life!"

I sneered, completely unfazed. "Her cheap life isn't worth a dime to me. She brought this on herself!"

"Everyone saw it! She attacked first and scratched my grandmother's face. I haven't even settled that score with you, and now you want to play the victim?"

Zoey helped drag her soaking-wet grandmother onto the dock, her face twisted with rage.

She jabbed a finger in my face, hissing, "Enjoy your little victory while it lasts! You have no idea what you've done!"

"All I have to do is tell my father—Arthur Sullivan, Chairman of the Sullivan Group—and he’ll make sure you and your pathetic old hag don’t live to see tomorrow!"

Grandma retorted sharply:

"Go ahead! Bring it on! I’d love to see if this 'Arthur Sullivan' of yours has the nerve! You two fakes really think you can rule the world, don't you?"

I backed her up: "The Chairman of the Sullivan Group and his family are known for being humble and low-key. Look at the way you two brawl—you look like trailer-trash brawlers, not Sullivans!"

Drenched and humiliated, Zoey's grandmother completely snapped, thrusting her shaking finger inches from our noses.

"Zoey! Show them! Shut these pathetic doubters up once and for all!"

Zoey cast a chilling, meaningful glance my way, then led everyone aboard the cruise ship.

She threw open the double doors to the third-floor luxury penthouse suite. Hanging front and center on the wall above the sofa was a massive, framed family portrait.

The seniors from Grandma’s class immediately recognized Arthur Sullivan in the photo.

"Oh my god! It really is Chairman Sullivan! We've only ever seen him on the news, and now we're standing right here with his family! This is incredible!"

"I told you! The real thing never lies! Zoey is Chairman Sullivan's daughter! Why else would he take a family portrait with strangers?"

"Anyone with eyes can see the class radiating from Mrs. Sullivan and Miss Sullivan. Look at Miss Sullivan—she’s the spitting image of Chairman Sullivan!"

Staring at the family portrait, I froze in utter shock.

Assuming the posture of a triumphant victor, Zoey's grandmother patted my grandma's cheek with mock pity.

"Slapped in the face, aren't you? Exposed for the frauds you are! You dare call us impostors? We're going to keep slapping that smug look off your faces!"

Prompted by a nod from her grandmother, Zoey dialed a video call.

When the screen connected, the opulent corner office of the Sullivan Group's executive suite appeared.

The secretary turned her camera toward Arthur Sullivan, who was sitting at the head of a glass conference table.

She spoke respectfully to Zoey: "Miss Sullivan, the Chairman is currently in a high-level meeting. If there’s an emergency, you can tell me, and I’ll have him call you back the moment he steps out. Would that work?"

Zoey shrugged carelessly. "Nothing urgent. Just make sure to remind my dad to drink plenty of water and get some rest, no matter how busy he gets."

The secretary nodded warmly. "I'll be sure to pass that along, Miss Sullivan. It'll make his day."

Enraged, Grandma pushed past the crowd, shouting at the phone, "Who the hell are you people?! How did you trick my son? My son would never belong to your family!"

With bloodshot eyes, Grandma turned to me and ordered, "Call your father right now, right in front of them!"

I pulled out my phone and dialed my father's private, direct line.