Chapter 15

Each class stretched out to 45 minutes. When the bell finally signaled the end of the lesson, Madelyn, almost with a sense of doomed acceptance, walked to the back of the room. She quietly righted Forrest’s knocked-over desk and gathered the scattered books from the floor, tidying them neatly into his drawer. Her actions elicited a flurry of astonished whispers from her classmates.

“No way! Madelyn, who’s always acting high and mighty, is actually picking up books for Forrest? Did she hit her head or something?”

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing. Madelyn, who couldn’t be bothered to speak, is now serving her arch-nemesis Forrest? Holy cow, I must be hallucinating!”

Someone had discreetly snapped a photo of Madelyn’s surprising act of humility and anonymously uploaded it to the school forum.

Madelyn ignored the buzz around her, focusing on straightening up Forrest’s desk. Despite everything, she was just too good-natured to hold Forrest’s temper against him.

Meanwhile, in the grimy alley behind the school, Timothy was debating about which bar to hit that night. Adrian was engrossed in his phone when a headline suddenly popped up.

[Shocker of the Century! Madelyn actually…]

Madelyn crouched down, books

doubted his

A girl crouched on the floor, her skirt pooling around her. The camera captured Madelyn’s smooth, elegant profile perfectly. Light streamed in

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

her own lunch due to her selective palate and her aversion to cafeteria food. Now alone in the classroom, she quietly savored the caramelized pork that Rosario had prepared for her, while working on her incomplete test

passed and the other students gradually returned from their lunch. Madelyn was still struggling with the final math problem. The noise of chatter and footfalls grew

it’s Forrest. He isn’t coming back to settle the score with Madelyn, is

seat. I’ve had it with that lowlife girl. I can’t believe she got

this school. It was her dad who nearly cost my dad his life over a plot of land. People like them who can’t compete fairly always resort to dirty tricks. Those Jents are

in Ventropolis, getting on their

Many in their class had parents whose businesses had suffered at the hands of the Jent family, and those dealings were always

formula for the major math problem when a shadow loomed over her. In the next instant, a hand swept across the desk,

“Can I

touch my stuff? Looking for trouble?” His sneer

his books, he has come to settle

upset. She thought cleaning up for him might serve as a sort of quiet apology. She had never imagined that simply tidying his

from her class and even the neighboring one had

pen. She spoke with icy coolness. “You’ve just messed with my books, too. We’re

at Madelyn’s desk. “What’s your

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