Felicity's anger flared further at my words.
"It's a desecration for a creature like you to own such a masterpiece!
"You're trash, and you deserve to own nothing but trash!"
She tore the painting to shreds in front of me, then stomped on the remnants with vicious glee.
Amanda, scrutinizing the ruined artwork, gasped.
"That painting is a master's original! I heard it started at a 300-million-dollar auction!"
Felicity shrugged it off brazenly. "So what if it's 300 million dollars? That's still my husband's money!
"And what's his is mine, so I can do whatever I want with my own stuff."
Her ludicrous claim left me speechless.
Logan, far from being the wealthy tycoon they perceived, was a penniless arriviste. Even with the reins of All Grand Group in his hands, his ineptitude had slashed the company's market value by nearly half.
Were it not for his marital status, I would have long since fired him.
Yet, Felicity and these old classmates idolized him as a commanding CEO, hanging on his every word.
With Felicity leading the charge, the others followed suit, wrecking and shredding the contents of my trunk with abandon.
Seeing them in a frenzy, I reckoned it was futile to intervene.