Made My Boyfriend’s Family Pay for Disrespecting My Father’s Ashes

On the first day of military training, the campus beauty yanked the silver gourd necklace from my neck.

"Are you a dog? Who wears something like this in this day and age?"

She and a pack of her admirers tossed the necklace back and forth like a toy, laughing so hard they could barely stand.

"Look at her—baring her teeth over a cheap chain. Definitely a dog."

Then my boyfriend arrived. Relief surged through me—until he strode over, snatched the necklace from her hands, and dropped it to the ground with a look of disgust.

"Stop embarrassing yourself."

His voice carried across the empty field.

"How could my girlfriend wear such trash? Whose spare boyfriend gave it to you? You're shameless."

Anger flared hot in my chest. I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Uncle Grant? Someone’s trampling on the ashes of a firstclass hero."

——

Maxwell froze midsmirk. The boys fell silent, the laughter cut short. All eyes turned to me.

Colette Fairchild was the first to move. She tore the phone from my hands and hurled it to the ground.

Snap!

The screen shattered into jagged pieces. She stepped forward, jabbing a finger at my face.

"Stop pretending. How could ashes fit in something that small? Firstclass hero? Please. Those would be in the Heroes’ Rest Memorial Grounds."

Her voice dripped with mockery. "You really think you can scare us? You’re dumber than you look."

She didn’t know the truth—that the gourd held the last of my father’s ashes.

But Maxwell knew. And still, he smiled.

"Don’t I know your family’s situation? Your father’s never home, and your mother ran off with another man years ago."

He looked me over with contempt. "You’re lucky I even date you. Dark, skinny… not even half as pretty as Colette."

"Accepting gifts from another guy? You’re a cheating slut, looking for trouble."

Then—crunch. He stomped the gourd flat, scattering the ashes into the dirt.

"Firstclass hero? Let’s see if his ashes hurt my feet."

"Stop!" My voice cracked. "Don’t touch my father’s ashes!"

I shoved him back and dropped to my knees, clawing at the ground to collect what I could.

Pain exploded through my hand. He had stepped down—hard—on my fingers.

There was a sharp crack. Whitehot agony shot up my arm, and a scream tore from my throat.

"What’s going on here?"

Mr. Brown, our homeroom teacher, came running at the noise. But the moment he saw Maxwell Northcott, his face drained of authority.

"Sir Maxwell," he said quickly, his tone shifting into obsequiousness. Then he turned on me with a glare.

"Clara! Starting trouble again?"

I could only stare at him, trembling, as the truth hit me like a second blow—this university belonged to the Northcott family. And I was nothing to them.

Mr. Brown, servile and blind to my pain, didn’t even glance at my mangled fingers. I forced myself to look up at him through the haze of agony.

"They were clearly bullying me, yet you accuse me of causing trouble. Are you blind?"

His face stiffened for a moment, but then he recovered with shameless ease.

"Maxwell was simply correcting your arrogance—teaching you how to behave. That’s not bullying."

The way he turned to Maxwell after speaking, eyes gleaming with flattery, made my stomach churn.

"Maxwell, am I right?"

Maxwell snorted.

Colette crossed her arms, her voice dripping with condescension.

"Mr. Brown’s right. Everyone here can vouch for it—Maxwell was just helping Clara learn her place."

Her hangerson jumped in instantly.

"Yeah, it’s for her own good. Who told her to be so shameless, wearing whatever another guy gives her?"

"Everyone knows Clara chased Maxwell first. He only agreed to date her out of pity."

"Honestly, she’s never been good enough for him—then she goes and flirts with someone else?"

Maxwell folded his arms, looking at me like a judge passing sentence.

"You hear that? Everyone thinks you’re not worthy. Kneel down, apologize, promise to be loyal, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll forgive you."

I had no idea why he thought the necklace came from another man. But in that moment, I knew one thing for certain—there was no future between us.

"Dream on," I said coldly. "Break up. I don’t date men who live off gossip."

I turned away from him, cradling my throbbing hand as I gathered the ashes from the cracked pavement into a small porcelain vial.

Silence fell over the field. Then came the whispers:

"No way… did Maxwell just get dumped?"

"She’s insane. With her background, how could she dump him?"

"Maxwell—the proud, untouchable golden boy—dumped by her?"

The murmurs sliced through his pride like blades. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing on the vial in my hands.

He strode forward and kicked it.

The force knocked me off balance, sending me sprawling onto the concrete. The vial shattered with a hollow crack, scattering the ashes I’d fought to save.

A gust of wind swept them up—gone, just like that.

"Dad… Dad…" My voice broke as I scrambled to catch them, heedless of the glass shards biting into my skin. My blood smeared the ground, but my fingers closed on nothing.

Maxwell’s voice was a whip.

"You’re breaking up with me over garbage like this? You need to be taught a lesson."

Something inside me snapped. My vision went red.

"You bastard!" I lunged, my hands clamping around his throat. We crashed to the ground. His face turned blotchy, his coughs choked and harsh.

"What are you standing there for? Get this crazy woman off me!" he rasped.

Colette’s shrill voice cut through the air.

"Pull her off him!"

Two male students wrenched my arms back.

Mr. Brown stepped forward and slapped me hard across the face.

"Student Clara Vale! Look at you—do you have any shame left?"