- 05.
I helpfully pulled up my payment QR code.
The teacher trembled with rage. She pointed a shaking finger at me. “You… you are utterly uncivilized!”
I chuckled. So, asking for my money back made me “uncivilized.”
The teacher, full of pride, tried to manipulate me further. “I know it’s not easy for you parents. How about this? I’ll extend
each lesson by an hour, and we’ll just adjust the fee. Say, a modest $7,500 per session?”
Oh, please. Just $7,500.
Don’t strain yourself on my account.
I waved my hand dismissively, declaring that I was a simple person who hated to inconvenience others or take advant-
age of their generosity.
A direct refund would be just fine.
The teacher, grinding her teeth in frustration, finally scanned the code and processed the refund. She spat that with an unreasonable parent like me, no respectable instructor would ever agree to teach my child.
“Hold on. Did I say you could leave?”
I flicked my finger, and my bodyguard, who had been waiting outside, shut the door.
The teacher was livid. “What do you think you’re doing? This is a society of laws! You could go to jail for this!”
Her voice was so shrill it could have shattered glass.
I casually cleaned out my ear. “The only one going to jail here is you.”
I pulled up a video file on my phone–crystal–clear surveillance footage of her verbally abusing Monica.
The teacher froze. “You were spying on me?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Please. This is the Sterling family’s private music room. A single one of these pianos is worth more than your entire
life. You think we wouldn’t have cameras?”
“I was motivating her,” the teacher said, her tone sharp and defensive.
! let out a cold laugh.
As a professional wicked stepmother, dealing with societal scum was my specialty.
If that’s how she wanted to play it, I wouldn’t hold back.
I opened my mouth and let loose a torrent of insults, a verbal storm that started with her mother and worked its way
through her entire family tree.
She turned beet red, gasping for air.
“That’s character assassination! I’ll sue you!”
I tossed a flash drive onto the table. “Go ahead and sue,” I said, my voice dripping with contempt. “But before you do, I’ll
make sure every parent in this school sees a highlight reel of you ‘motivating‘ your students. Let’s see how they feel
about your methods then.”
The teacher’s face went green.
Monica attended an exclusive private academy. The teachers‘ base salaries were low; their real income came from
private tutoring fees from the wealthy students.
If I released those videos, her reputation would be destroyed.
Under my unwavering glare, the teacher finally broke down, tearfully apologizing to Monica and telling her what a won- derful, talented child she was.
