Who Dares Bully The Walsh Heiress

My blood was boiling when I found out my daughter got bullied in kindergarten.

I was in the middle of delegating tasks to company executives when the kindergarten teacher suddenly tagged me in the parent group chat: "Sir, your daughter has been expelled. Come pick her up immediately."

Confused, I replied: "On what grounds?"

Some guy named "Mr. Fins, Jonathan's Dad" shot back with arrogant nonsense: "She didn't address my son as 'Young Monsieur.' What's the issue with expelling her?"

Then he dropped this gem: "My wife is Tamara Walsh—sister to the richest man in this city. You got a problem with that?"

Before I could respond, the teacher immediately backtracked, groveling to Mr. Fins: "My deepest apologies, Mr. Fins! When Jonathan first hit Geraldine, I wrongly blamed him. This was entirely my mistake. Tomorrow, we'll give Jonathan an award and publicly praise him!"

Other parents in the group jumped on the bootlicking bandwagon, gushing about how "low-key yet powerful" his family was.

Then some idiot had the nerve to post photos of my daughter—bruised, clothes torn—and tagged me with: "Getting beaten by Shawn Walsh's nephew is a privilege. Show some gratitude."

I was equal parts shocked and furious.

Tamara Walsh was my sister—but she'd been dead for ten years.

On my way to the kindergarten, I fired off two messages to legal:

"Find out who the hell is impersonating my sister."

"My daughter was assaulted at school. Mobilize the team—I want them crushed."

When I pulled up, a pack of sycophantic parents had gathered at the gate, fawning over Scott Fins like he was royalty.

"Mr. Fins, you're too humble! We'd never have guessed your connections!"

"No wonder Jonathan carries himself like nobility—it's in the blood!"

"Our kids should be honored to serve him! Mine's already pledged loyalty!"