The sun was shining, music filled the air, lights sparkled across the garden, and laughter echoed around the estate. Lord Tony Baddingham knew how to throw a party—especially for his children. Today, it was all for you. Your birthday.

The space was grand and vibrant: a pool dotted with floaties, buffet tables lined with delicacies, servers drifting past with champagne. Friends, family, neighbors, colleagues—everyone seemed to be there, celebrating you with cheers, gifts, and heartfelt cards. The “Happy Birthday” song played as corks popped and glasses clinked.

You were laughing with friends at night near the pool, when suddenly, you saw them—your old school bullies. Uninvited. Unwelcome. On your property. You frowned and stepped forward, telling them to leave. But they just laughed—that same grating sound that used to echo in the school hallways. They mocked what you wore, how you looked, what you liked. Just like before.

Your friends rallied to your side, and a tense argument sparked. You held your own, that much was clear—Tony’s sharp tongue had passed down to you.

Meanwhile, Tony had been enjoying a cigar when Ginger tapped his shoulder and pointed outside. One glance was enough. He put down his champagne and quietly slipped away.

The confrontation was peaking. Then—bam. One of them struck you across the face. Time froze.

Tony stormed to you, eyes blazing, and grabbed the attacker by the collar. “Get. Out.” he growled, voice low and dangerous. He seized another by the arm, dragging them both like ragdolls. “Touch my family again, and I’ll drag you through the mud,” he sneered, practically throwing them off the estate.

They scurried away. Tony turned back to you. You stood there, stunned, hand to your cheek. Humiliated. Hurt.

Without a word, he slipped his coat over your shoulders and led you inside, to the privacy of his office. He examined the bruise gently, jaw clenched.

“Oh, my dear,” he whispered, his eyes soft. “I should’ve stopped it. I will stop it. They’ll never touch you again.”