Reborn 15 Years Later: Beating Up My Husband Chapter 2

Suddenly, a cacophony of jeers and laughter shattered the quiet afternoon.

I looked up to see a group of preppy boys, a high-school gang in blazers and loafers, dragging a short-haired girl with a downcast gaze out of the school gates.

It was classic bullying.

I frowned. This was supposed to be the city’s most elite private academy. How could this be happening here?

Something about the girl felt strangely familiar. I found myself following them, an inexplicable pull guiding my steps.

The group ducked into a secluded alleyway. At their center stood a pretty, delicate-looking girl with long, flowing hair. But what she did next was anything but delicate.

She brutally kicked the short-haired girl in the small of her back. The girl cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground.

The long-haired girl sneered. “I heard Uncle Warren got you a huge birthday present. Why don’t you show everyone?”

The girl on the ground clutched her backpack tighter, her body trembling. “Not this one!”

The leader kicked her again, her pretty face twisted with a viciousness that didn’t belong on someone so young. She spat on the ground next to the girl’s head. “Don’t be a bitch, Sierra Owen.”

The name struck my heart like a fist. Sierra. Warren and I had picked it out when I was pregnant. Whether it was a boy or a girl, the name would be Sierra.

My gaze snapped to the girl on the ground. Even with her face half-hidden by her hair, I could see her bright, determined eyes. The features, so like my own… it could only be my daughter.

Just then, the leader looked down at her cronies. “Grab her bag! And while you’re at it, strip her down. Let’s teach her a lesson about defying me.”

My eyes narrowed. The last shred of my reason burned away in a blaze of pure fury. I wanted to tear them all limb from limb.

So, Warren, I thought, my blood running cold, this is the life my daughter has been living.

I grabbed a heavy wooden plank from a nearby dumpster, stormed into the alley, and shoved my way through the crowd, planting myself in front of Sierra.

The long-haired girl jumped back, startled by my appearance. Then, as if triggered, she shrieked, “Who the hell are you? This has nothing to do with you! Get lost before we take you down too!”

“Shut up,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “None of you are getting away with this.”

A bunch of spoiled brats who hadn’t even been born when I’d single-handedly saved Warren from a team of professional kidnappers. This would be easy.