Time flew by, and Layla Evans’s last week of freedom vanished in the blink of an eye. The day had arrived—her first day at Dervay Saints Academy.

Early in the morning, Frank Evans showed up in his clunky Mercedes, eager to fulfill Trevor Moore’s orders. His attitude toward Layla was unusually flattering, the tension in his face betraying the fear of displeasing his powerful son-in-law.

Frank’s struggling real estate business now depended entirely on Trevor’s goodwill. Over the past few weeks, Trevor had thrown him a few favors here and there, signaling just how important it was for Frank to start treating his daughter differently—a daughter he had previously ignored. Now, Frank was bending over backward to make up for years of neglect.

Father and daughter sat silently in the car, their relationship strained and distant. Frank kept trying to make small talk, desperate to win Layla over, but she barely responded. Her cool detachment was a sharp reminder of how much space had grown between them over the years.

Dervay Saints Academy was the pinnacle of elite education in Avalon, boasting unparalleled faculty and jaw-droppingly luxurious facilities. Only the children of the wealthy and powerful could afford to walk through its grand gates. On orientation day, the campus looked like a luxury car show. Bentleys, Cayennes, and Maybachs filled the parking lot, while more “ordinary” brands like Mercedes and BMWs looked pitiful by comparison—like flea-market offerings among fine art.

After struggling to find a parking space, Frank finally managed to squeeze his old Mercedes into a spot, feeling out of place and frustrated.

“Layla, are you hot? Let’s head inside and get you signed up,” Frank said, wiping the sweat off his brow as he handed her a bottle of iced tea.

As they made their way toward the registration hall, Frank hovered around Layla, awkwardly shielding her from the blazing sun with his hand. Not bringing an umbrella had been a careless mistake, and he mentally kicked himself for it. This was the first time he had ever brought Layla to school, and perhaps the first time he’d shown her such concern. He hoped it wasn’t too late to fix things—or at least to make himself look good in Trevor’s eyes.

Thanks to Layla’s plea, Trevor decided to let Lily Evans off the hook for now. She returned to Avalon in disgrace, and with Frank Evans pulling every possible string, she managed to get admitted into Dervay Saints Academy's business school. Today, Lily could only rely on her mother, Judy Evans, to accompany her for registration—a task she had complained about endlessly.

Layla’s registration went smoothly, and by noon, all the paperwork was done. Frank Evans had meticulously prepared in advance, researching every step of the process to ensure everything went efficiently. After all, he couldn’t afford for Trevor to think he was incompetent.

Layla’s impression of the school? Extravagant—over-the-top, luxurious, and breathtakingly opulent.

Following Frank’s instructions, Judy quickly helped Lily complete her registration. The two groups bumped into each other at the school gate.

Judy greeted Layla with a warm smile and exaggerated flattery, knowing full well that Layla, as Trevor Moore’s wife, was no one to underestimate.

Meanwhile, Lily stood to the side, holding her parasol with a sullen expression, radiating irritation. 

“Mom, it’s scorching. Let’s leave already,” Lily complained, unable to hide her frustration.

Judy, aware of the trouble her beloved daughter had caused last time, knew that if Layla hadn’t stepped in, Trevor’s revenge would have been brutal. Seizing the chance to make amends, she decided to act.

“Yes, it’s really hot here,” Judy said, pulling Layla under the shade of her parasol. She shot a reproachful look at Frank, “How careless of you to bring Layla out without a sunshade.”

“Layla, don’t hold it against your dad. It’s rare for the family to gather. Why don’t we have lunch together?” Judy suggested. A family meal might help ease the tension between the sisters—Lily might need Trevor’s help someday.

Frank eagerly chimed in, “Yes, Layla! It’s been so long since we all had a meal together. After all, we’re family. No need to be strangers.”

Layla felt deeply reluctant. They had mistreated her, treating her like a servant and eventually kicking her out. Now that she was married to Trevor and “valuable,” they fawned over her—a hypocrisy she found revolting.

“Trevor might come home for lunch. If I’m not there, he’ll be upset,” Layla declined politely, knowing that invoking Trevor’s name would likely put an end to the conversation.

“Don’t worry about that, Layla. Mr. Moore is having a business lunch today to sign the deal for the West District. He won’t be home,” Frank reassured her. Despite being a small player in Avalon’s business world, he had no trouble getting this kind of information.

Hearing what he said, Judy was so afraid that Layla might continue to refuse, saying quickly, “Layla, you heard what your father said. If you continue to refuse, then you mean you are looking down upon us. You don’t want to consider us as your parents since you’ve married a man from a rich and powerful family, do you?”

Judy, fearing Layla might refuse again, quickly added, “See? Your dad’s right. If you say no, it’ll feel like you’re dismissing us. You wouldn’t want people to think you’ve abandoned your family just because you married into wealth, right?”

Layla scoffed internally. You were the ones who disowned me, yet now you’re acting like the victims?

But Layla had a soft heart. With the conversation at this point, she could only relent and agree to have lunch with them.

Frank chose a luxury restaurant near the college. They then settled into a private room with air conditioning. After nearly suffering heatstroke during registration, everyone finally felt some relief.

A waitress handed out the menus, and Frank immediately passed it to Layla. “Layla, order whatever you’d like.”

“It’s fine. You guys can order. I’m not picky,” Layla replied, pushing the menu back to him.

Frank didn’t dare order on his own. He wanted to show respect to Layla—and truthfully, he had no idea what she liked to eat.

As the menu was passed back and forth, Lily Evans grew impatient. She grabbed it, quickly ordered a bunch of dishes she liked, and handed the menu to the waitress. “Bring it out quickly. We’re all starving.”

Lily then pulled out her makeup kit. After sweating all morning, her makeup was ruined, and she began touching it up. A collection of high-end cosmetics soon covered the table. 

Noticing Layla’s bare face, Judy Evans couldn’t help but comment, “Layla, you’re eighteen now. You should start taking care of your appearance. After lunch, let’s go to the mall, and I’ll buy you some makeup.”

“No need.” Layla wasn’t interested in spending any more time with them and just wanted to get through the meal quickly. 

“That won’t do! Look around—every woman wears makeup these days. Now that you’ve married Mr. Moore, you need to look your best. He’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time. You’ll need to keep yourself attractive so he’ll stay interested,” Judy said with a smile. Her words, however, were less about Layla’s happiness and more about keeping the family’s position secure through Trevor.

“Trevor doesn’t like me wearing make-up.” Layla replied, using Trevor’s name as a shield. The truth was, she had no idea if Trevor cared about makeup or not.

Judy and Frank exchanged a glance, a shared understanding dawning between them.

 They began to wonder: Trevor Moore had countless beautiful women around him. Why would he choose Layla, a simple girl with no makeup? Could it be that he preferred women who kept a natural look?

Although the meal was served in an upscale setting, Layla felt utterly miserable throughout.

During lunch, the Evans couple managed to steer every conversation back to Trevor, urging Layla to keep him close and secure more support from Moore Group for Evans Real Estate.

Judy also encouraged Layla to help Lily find a match. Now that Layla had married well, it was only fair to look out for her half-sister. Perhaps Trevor could introduce one of his friends to Lily—ideally, someone equally outstanding.

 Unable to take it anymore, Layla excused herself to the restroom, desperate for a moment’s peace. 

In the restroom, however, she unexpectedly ran into a familiar face—Samantha Scott.

“Miss Layla, what a pleasure to meet you.” This line didn’t come from Samantha Scott, but from Daniel Harris.

“Ah!” Layla was taken aback. How absurd was it to find a man in the ladies' restroom?

Due to his connection with Trevor, Daniel was already quite familiar with Layla. However, Layla didn’t know him at all and wondered how this stranger knew her name. She didn’t plan to investigate further; she just wanted him to leave quickly.

“Sorry! I’ll step out,” Daniel said, realizing he shouldn’t be in the ladies' restroom, and quickly retreated. 

“Samantha, I’ll wait for you outside,” he said, sulking as he stood guard at the restroom door

Samantha had intended to tease Layla, as it was her habit to stir trouble. However, this time she merely nodded at Layla and stood in front of the mirror, retouching her makeup.

Layla sent a text to Frank Evans saying she had an emergency and then left the restaurant alone. She didn’t want to endure any more of the forced lunch or listen to their insincere chatter.

While waiting for the bus outside the restaurant, Layla saw Samantha get into a luxury SUV, driven by the same creep who had just barged into the ladies' restroom.

“Hello, Layla! Need a ride?” Daniel Harris whistled at her. Samantha shot him a glare. “Are you serious? I’m still in your car, and you’re trying to pick her up?”

Layla didn’t recognize Daniel Harris and had no intention of accepting a ride from him, so she quickly replied, “No, thanks. I’m good with the bus.”

Daniel was always a loose man, but he had never been in hot pursuit. What’s more, he was really caring about how Samantha felt who was now seated in the co-driver’s seat.

Though Daniel had a reputation for being flirtatious, he didn’t press further. He actually cared about Samantha’s feelings in the passenger seat.

This time, Daniel was serious! Last time at the bar, while looking into Layla’s background, he had unexpectedly run into Samantha, and they had hit it off passionately.

Since then, Daniel had been head over heels for Samantha, almost glued to her side every day.

Samantha couldn’t shake him off; after all, Daniel was a detective! Even if she hid in the smallest cracks, he could find her.

Of course, Samantha didn’t really want to get rid of him. After that passionate night, she had developed a plan—a revenge scheme she had waited ten years to execute.