Silent Revenge of a Hidden Heiress Chapter 07

Silent Revenge of a Hidden Heiress Chapter 07

The sun got blazing hot by midday. 

My roommates volunteered to hand out flyers and walk people through the event. 

Even a few underclassmen I’d mentored on the 

student council got sick of the toxic vibe over at the kissing booth and snuck over to help me. 

When I finished my work and brought them water, the girls were all snickering while staring at the kissing booth. 

When they saw me coming, they all started chattering at once. 

“We went over to check it out earlier, and Nathan 

was sitting there looking so gloomy he was gonna throw up!” 

“So many people are lining up to kiss him, his whole costume is covered in lipstick stains. By the end of the day his face is gonna be swollen like a rotten pumpkin before he has to go host anything!” 

“People just scan $5 or $10 to kiss him–how 

much money is that even gonna raise?” 

“Sheryl’s just been holding her phone up streaming. 

the whole time, she hasn’t done a single thing to 

actually help!” 

We all burst out laughing after that. 

That was when the headmaster walked through 

the entrance of the track. 

Right next to him was my mom. 

Behind them were several other school 

administrators and a handful of people in full 

business suits. 

The two walked slowly, chatting easily, and anyone 

could tell my mom was someone important. 

A student whispered, “Are they here for the 

student council fundraiser? How did they get the 

headmaster to show up?!” 

Nathan bolted right out of the kissing booth, a 

wave of excitement rushing through him. 

He grabbed Sheryl immediately, didn’t even bother 

wiping off the lipstick stains or changing out of 

their dumb costumes, and fumbled around 

scrambling for his fundraising materials. 

That was when they realized barely any of the student council members assigned to work the booth were still there. 

As the headmaster’s group got closer, Sheryl panicked and ripped a huge hole in her princess gown. She just froze in place and refused to move another inch. 

Nathan was sweating buckets, and the more he flipped through his papers the more of a mess they got. 

Even by this point, everyone there still thought the headmaster and his group were there for the student council. 

But my mom walked right past their gaudy kissing booth without a second glance, and stopped right in front of my booth. 

In front of the entire crowd, I said loud and clear, “Hi, Mom.” 

My roommates and the underclassmen next to me 

all froze in shock. 

Nathan, who’d finally found his papers and was hurrying over with them, stopped dead in his tracks too. 

I turned to the headmaster, bowed politely, picked up the pre–tested mic, and handed it to him. 

The headmaster glanced over our smoothly run booth, nodded in approval, took the mic, and his deep, rich voice echoed across the entire track. 

“First of all, thank you to the CEO of Sinclair Group for sponsoring our school, and for your generous support of this fundraiser.” 

Sinclair Group? 

Anyone who put the pieces together quickly figured out what was going on. 

A lot of people started whispering, guessing what 

my connection to Sinclair Group was. 

Then the headmaster handed the mic back to me.. 

My palms were a little sweaty. 

My mom just patted me on the shoulder and 

smiled, saying nothing. 

I smiled back at her, took a deep breath, and lifted 

the mic. 

“Thank you all for taking the time to join this 

fundraiser. On behalf of all Harvard students, I, 

Elaine Sinclair, am organizing this fundraiser to 

build a library for low–income students in rural 

mountain villages. And as the heir to Sinclair 

Group, I am donating $300,000 from my personal 

foundation to kick off this event. Full, transparent 

accounting will be published after the fundraiser 

ends.” 

The moment the words left my mouth, the whole 

crowd exploded. 

People were shocked by my identity as Sinclair 

Group’s heir, and equally shocked by the $300,000 

donation. 

Then someone in the crowd yelled out. 

“Look outside the gate!” 

Line after line of luxury cars were parked right 

outside the track, and one familiar face after 

another–people they’d only seen on the news- 

stepped out. 

These were all the business owners my mom had 

taken me to meet and negotiate with personally. 

They’d kept their promise. 

They’d come to my fundraiser.