The Billionaire’s Long-Lost “Doormat”

1 I was the village punching bag. Anyone who felt like it could take a shot. But every single person who bullied me ended up crippled, one way or another. My foster mother, who called me a “bastard” and tried to sell me, was struck dumb. My foster brother, who locked me in the pigpen, was swarmed by the hogs and left paralyzed. My foster father, who stole my money, lost a hand in a gambling den. And the mayor’s son, who wanted to play a “stripping game” with me, lost the one thing that made him a man. When my wealthy birth parents finally came looking for me, the butcher knife in my hand was still dripping with blood. It was only then that the villagers realized I wasn’t a punching bag. I was a goddamn psycho. I thought my real parents would be horrified, but instead, their faces lit up with excitement. “Honey, we’re being bullied. Please, will you come home and help us?” … The mayor’s son lay in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood and gore. My hand, holding the knife, didn’t even tremble. “Jed! My boy!” The mayor shoved his way through the stunned crowd, his usually commanding face now the color of bleached paper. He stumbled, his knees giving out, and collapsed into the bloody mess, clutching his son’s mangled body. His eyes, burning with a hatred that could have flayed me alive, fixed on me in utter disbelief. “You did this? You bitch!” His roar snapped the villagers out of their trance. The crowd erupted in a chaotic buzz, but strangely, no one dared to step forward. Instead, they all took a collective step back. “God Almighty, Jed’s… his thing… is it chopped off?” “It was Quinn. How could she?” “But… but she’s the girl who never fights back! The one who takes every insult without a word!” A wave of terror washed over them. They stared at me as if seeing me for the very first time. Faced with their questions, I just couldn’t understand the fuss. I offered a helpful explanation. “He said we were good friends and wanted to play a stripping game. But good friends should be the same, right? I don’t have one, so why should he?” Dead silence fell over the yard. Then, from somewhere in the quiet, a trembling voice piped up. “Her foster mom called her a bastard, and the next day she was poisoned dumb, can’t even talk now.” “Her foster brother threw her in the pigpen, and then he got mauled by the pigs. He’s still laid up in bed, can’t move.” “Her foster father… he stole the money she’d saved up, and a few days later, some thugs chopped off his arm!” “And… and what about that creep who tried to have his way with her a while back? He fell and broke his leg, nearly drowned in the river.” All these incidents, once dismissed as bizarre coincidences, were now being threaded together, and every single thread pointed directly at me—the girl who always kept her head down, the girl who took everything they dished out. The fear in the crowd curdled into pure horror. Seeing the hint of a smile on my face, a woman stumbled backward, scrambling away on her hands and knees. “Monster…” she whimpered. “She’s a monster!” “Could it be? Did she do all of it?” another man stammered, his legs barely holding him up. I ignored them, finding a rough stone to sharpen my knife. The blade was getting dull. A dull knife makes for a messy, unsatisfying job. Just then, a long, black Maybach pushed its way through the dirt roads of our village. A man and a woman, dripping with wealth but looking deeply troubled, stepped out. Their eyes scanned the crowd and locked onto me with unnerving precision. Before I could react, the woman rushed forward and threw her arms around me, her voice a raw, desperate cry. “My darling daughter, I’ve finally found you! Oh, thank God!” I tensed, unused to being touched. My questioning gaze met the red-rimmed eyes of the middle-aged man standing beside her. “Quinn,” he explained, his voice thick with emotion. “We did a test. You’re our biological daughter.” The villagers gasped, their eyes darting between me, my supposed parents, and the multi-million dollar car. The terror on their faces began to fade, replaced by a hungry, predatory greed. “So you’re her parents? Let me tell you, your daughter has hurt a lot of people in this village!” “That’s right! We all raised her, you know. How are you planning on thanking us?” “Just look at our mayor’s son, still bleeding on the ground! What are you going to do about that?” The crowd parted, revealing the gruesome scene of the mayor cradling his bloody son. The sticky, crimson mud, the severed piece of flesh lying nearby… it was enough to make anyone gag. But the man, my father, didn’t even flinch. He turned to me, his tone as gentle as if he were asking about the weather. “Quinn, did you do this?” Quinn. I liked the name. So I answered casually, “His little toy was always wiggling around where it shouldn’t. I didn’t like the look of it.” These rich people, I’d seen them on TV. All polished and proper. They wouldn’t want a daughter like me. I was about to tell them not to bother taking me home, but then I heard their thoughts, loud and clear. My God, our daughter is a certified badass! That’s how a woman should be! Fierce! That’s my girl! Alistair Croft’s daughter! Now, how should I deal with this pack of vultures? Interesting. For years, everyone in this village had avoided me like the plague. This was the first time anyone had ever actually liked me for who I was. This family… I’ll check it out.

2 I turned to the two people who looked so much like me and gave my order. “I’ll go with you.” Alistair and Evelyn Croft exchanged a look, on the verge of tears of joy. But the villagers weren’t having it. Their lust for money had finally overpowered their fear of me. One by one, they stepped forward, blocking our path. “Hold on! You’re not leaving without compensating us!” “Yeah, your daughter assaulted someone! You think you can just walk away?” “Let me tell you, if you don’t pay up today, none of you are leaving this village!” The mayor laid his unconscious son down and slowly walked over. “Sir, Ma’am,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “Your daughter did, in fact, harm my son. It’s not unreasonable for the entire village to demand some form of justice, is it?” My father, Alistair, started to step forward, but I blocked him with my knife. The huge butcher knife spun in my hand like a tiny toy. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump of me catching the handle seemed to beat in time with every villager’s heart. A few of them started trembling again. That silent, primal terror crept back onto their faces. I flashed a deceptively innocent smile, then slipped into the car. As the engine roared to life and we pulled away, the crowd was still frozen in place, paralyzed by my presence. Soon, the car entered a quiet, gated community of sprawling mansions. Alistair honked the horn several times, expecting a groundskeeper to open the wrought iron gates, but the man standing by the entrance didn’t move a muscle, acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Alistair shot me an embarrassed smile, trying to salvage some dignity. “We’re… very relaxed with our staff here. Very lenient.” His thoughts, however, were a storm of curses. That useless boyfriend of Tiffany’s is really pushing it. I pay him fifty thousand a month, he’s always joyriding in my cars, and now he won’t even open the gate for me? Am I going to have to get out and open it myself, like I always do? But what will Quinn think? She’ll think I’m a pushover. I just smiled, grabbed the steering wheel, and stomped on the gas. The car lunged forward with the force of a battering ram, aiming straight for the man. With a sickening crunch of metal on bone, the million-dollar Maybach’s front end crumpled. The man had jumped back, but not fast enough. One of his legs was caught, pinned and broken. “Alistair, are you insane? You hit me! You got a death wish?!” Still screaming like a dog, even with a broken leg. Annoying. I revved the engine again, the car inching forward as if to crush him completely. The man’s eyes widened in terror as the tire stopped just a centimeter from his chest. That’s my girl! I’ve wanted to get rid of that little punk for ages! She really took out the trash for me today! Where did she learn to drive like that? I need lessons! I got out of the car, my movements sharp and efficient, and looked at my two shell-shocked parents. “Am I in charge of this house?” Confused, Alistair and Evelyn nodded. Satisfied, I walked over to the man on the ground and planted my foot directly on his shattered leg. “AGHHHHH! IT HURTS! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” “Stop it! Who dares touch my man? Do you want to die?!” A sharp, shrill female voice cut through the air. I looked up to see a woman in a fiery red dress storming toward us, her face a mask of fury. Trailing behind her was a slim, pale girl in a white dress. Oh my god, is that my real sister? She’s so cool! She actually dared to mess with Tiffany’s boyfriend. So, the timid girl with the curious eyes must be the fake heiress, Sophie. The girl in red, Tiffany, saw us and struck a haughty pose. “Get your filthy foot off my boyfriend!” Seeing her, the man on the ground seemed to find his backbone, his voice turning into a pathetic whine. “Babe, you have to stand up for me! They drove right into me! If I’m… broken… how will I keep my baby happy?” His voice grated on my ears like a rusty hinge. I pressed down harder with my foot. Strangely, Alistair and Evelyn, who had stood their ground against the entire village, now seemed to shrink in on themselves in front of this younger woman, Tiffany. “Tiffany, we’re all family here,” Alistair pleaded. “Quinn didn’t mean it. Uncle will transfer five million to your account as an apology.” Evelyn also forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. “It’s all a misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding! We didn’t do it on purpose!” Even Sophie, the quiet girl, tried to pull Tiffany back. “Tiffany, please, let’s just drop it. I’ll give you that sculpture you liked, okay?” But her thoughts were frantic. I have to calm Tiffany down, or she’ll bully my new sister just like she bullies me. I frowned. Bullying? I don’t have much empathy, but if there’s one thing I despise, it’s people who use their power to torment others. Tiffany, soaking in the apologies and appeasements, started to look smug. She crossed her arms, staring down at me. “Fine. I’ll let it go. But first, I want her on her knees, barking like a dog.”

3 Alistair’s face hardened. “Tiffany, that’s going too far! Quinn is your cousin, your elder cousin.” Evelyn was right behind him. “Absolutely not! We will not let you do that!” Sophie’s eyes instantly welled with tears, her lip trembling. “Tiffany, if you have to break someone’s leg, break mine! You can do whatever you want to me!” she pleaded. “My sister just got here, she doesn’t know the rules of the house. Please, let it go this time!” The sight of my new family, so pathetic and weak, begging for mercy, struck a nerve. I hate cowards. A fire ignited in my gut. I lifted my foot off the man. Tiffany was about to say something triumphant, a smug smirk already forming on her lips, but she never got the chance. The crack of the blow echoed through the driveway. I slapped her so hard she flew sideways and landed in a heap on the manicured lawn. For five full seconds, no one moved. Then, a flood of silent thoughts crashed over me. What did she just do? She hit Tiffany? That’s it, she’s my hero! Am I seeing things? My daughter just did what her father never had the guts to do! But what am I going to do when my brother comes looking for revenge? Holy hell! A true warrior! That bastard Marcus won’t be able to steal our family fortune now! Tiffany lay on the ground, stunned. “You… you… you hit me.” I flexed my wrist, then grabbed the collar of Tiffany’s dress, hauling her up like a stray dog. She struggled uselessly, completely powerless in my grip. The household staff, drawn by the commotion, stared in horror as I dragged the family’s proudest peacock across the gravel. A wave of whispers rippled through them, but one hard look from me silenced them instantly. I dragged her right in front of Sophie and kicked the back of her knees. With a thump, Tiffany collapsed to the ground, forced into a kneeling position. Sophie stared at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and awe, and took several stumbling steps backward. Alistair and Evelyn watched, holding their breath. My voice was tight with irritation. I bit out a single word. “Hit her.” “What?” Sophie asked, her voice trembling. My patience frayed. “She bullied you before. Bully her back.” Sophie glanced at me nervously, then squeezed her eyes shut as if to gather courage and gave Tiffany a tentative slap. It had less force than a mosquito bite. “You bitch! You actually hit me! Sophie, you are so dead!” Sophie flinched back in terror, but then she met my cold, unblinking gaze. Steeling herself, she stepped forward again and delivered another slap, and another, and another, ten in total, each one harder than the last. The slender girl was panting when she finished, her eyes shining with a newfound sense of triumph and adoration as she looked at me. “Thank you, sis.” I gave a slight nod, then turned to the assembled staff. “Get these two off the property.”