Chapter 56

All eyes in the room locked onto Genevieve’s phone, buzzing with anticipation.

What a bombshell!

Wait—why does she sound so sure? Is it real? I shouldn’t look… but I can’t resist!

The Blackwood family stood frozen, staring at Genevieve in disbelief. Yet, it was true—she did have surveillance cameras installed in her modest rental studio.

Camille knew about Genevieve’s habit of recording her workspace, but she never expected her to do the same in that tiny apartment. As Genevieve unlocked her phone, Camille’s mind blanked. Panic surged through her, and she lunged forward, desperate to snatch the device away.

Nathan stepped in, blocking her path—only for Damian to seize the moment, darting toward Genevieve with outstretched hands.

In a flash, Genevieve yanked her phone back. With her free hand, she swung—crack!—a sharp slap landed across Damian’s cheek.

Staggering back, Damian barely had time to register the sting before—smack!—another slap followed, leaving him dazed.

The room fell silent.

Nathan, momentarily stunned, failed to react in time, allowing Camille to lunge again. "How dare you hit him!" she shrieked.

Genevieve didn’t hesitate. Slap! Slap! Two more resounding strikes landed on Camille’s face.

Gasps filled the air. Genevieve—the delicate, sweet campus darling, the girl who had been deceived—had just delivered four brutal slaps.

As the red marks bloomed on Damian and Camille’s faces, the room held its breath.

Damn right! Scum deserves worse. Youth is precious—slap that trash harder!

Evelyn couldn’t help but clap. To her surprise, others joined in. Whistles and cheers erupted, praising Genevieve’s boldness.

Genevieve smirked, her voice dripping with mock sorrow. "I was bluffing. But thank you for proving your guilt so convincingly."

The room exploded into laughter.

Camille and Damian glared at her, venom in their eyes—but before they could retaliate, chaos erupted behind them.

Gregory punched his stepson square in the face, then kicked him to the ground. "You dare sleep with my daughter? After everything I’ve done for you? Ungrateful wretch!"

Gwendolyn yanked Camille’s hair, raining slaps on her. "You harlot! You seduced my son! Just like your mother—disgraceful!"

"Dad, stop! Damian, help me!"

"Mom, let her go, you old hag!"

The four of them tumbled into a tangled mess of limbs and screams.

The Blackwoods quickly retreated, shielding Genevieve from the brawl. The office staff, though entertained, had no choice but to intervene.

"This is an exchange student processing center. If you can’t pay, leave. Deadline’s 6 p.m. Don’t make me call security," a staff member snapped.

The warning snapped them back to reality.

"Now I see! You were using my son to secure funds for abroad! Well, dream on!"

"Who says she can’t go? We’ll sell the house if we have to! She needs to get far away from your filthy son!"

"That house is my son’s! He’s the one who’ll care for you in old age! If you give it to her, she’ll abandon you!"

"At least she’s my blood! Unlike your son, who stole from me and preyed on my daughter!"

Gregory and Gwendolyn’s argument escalated, fists nearly flying. Damian watched, seething but unwilling to step in.

Then—Genevieve’s phone lit up.

She typed a message and tilted the screen toward Camille, whose face twisted in suspicion before paling in horror.

The text read: Your brother secretly took me on dates behind your back. He begged me not to tell you.

Evelyn, standing behind Genevieve, caught the message. Her gaze flicked between Damian and Camille, realization dawning.

So that’s why.

Damian had been torn—Genevieve’s allure as a trophy girlfriend overshadowing his years with Camille. He’d been tempted but lacked the guts to act.

Camille, meanwhile, had sworn to repay her father by selling paintings once abroad.

When Julian recounted the fallout to Genevieve, she murmured, "Karma’s real, isn’t it?"

Julian almost nodded—until Evelyn’s thoughts cut in.

No. It was your family stepping in. The Blackwoods don’t suffer fools. Power exists to remind scum of their place.

Genevieve finally smiled.

That evening, she joined dinner, bowing deeply in apology for her foolishness.

Evelyn’s silent verdict: Hopeless in love, but at least she woke up fast.

The Blackwoods coughed awkwardly.

Genevieve turned starry-eyed to Evelyn. "How can I thank you?"

Nathan nearly said it wasn’t necessary—the family had already showered Evelyn with "gifts" (read: divorce fund deposits).

Then Genevieve mused, "She used to adore you. Maybe something tied to you? But she’s changed..."

Nathan stiffened. Et tu, sister?

Sophia’s blunt answer: "She’s over you. Money’s her focus now."

Having survived her own romantic disaster, Genevieve nodded sagely. "Smart woman."

Soon, Evelyn’s phone pinged—a transfer notification.

Thank you for the takeout. It cleared my head. —Genevieve.

The amount? Over two million.