When Good Things Come

My millionaire father believed in raising me the hard way.

To build my endurance, he made me walk twelve miles to school.

To teach me frugality, he made me eat the dog's leftovers.

To strengthen my body, he made me wear nothing but a thin shirt in the dead of winter.

I followed every one of his cruel rules without question. Because he was my father.

Then came the school fundraiser. I begged him for a little money to donate. He slapped me across the face and told me to earn it myself.

When I didn't donate a single cent, the teachers and students branded me, the daughter of a tycoon, as selfish and cold-hearted. I was berated by my teachers and tormented by my classmates.

When my father found out, he didn't defend me. He stormed into the school and bragged about his "tough love" methods, publicly parading every single one of my humiliations for all to see.

That was when I finally broke. I threw myself from the roof of the school.

Now, reborn, I walk into my father's alumni gala, draped in millions of dollars' worth of jewelry.

The searing pain of the fall vanished in an instant. My vision swam back into focus.

My fathers grating voice was droning on in my ear.

"Veronica, just because we have money doesn't mean you can throw it away. Do you have any idea how many loaves of bread you could buy for ten dollars?"

My mind reeled. I died, didn't I? I was back. Back to the moment I asked my father for money for the school fundraiser.

His eyes were filled with disgust as he picked up his cup of thousand-dollar tea and took a lazy sip.

"Get back to your room! You're an eyesore. Not a damn thing like Jessica." His voice dripped with contempt. "Is asking for money all you know how to do? I feed you, I clothe you, and still, you're never satisfied!"

I lowered my head. "I'm sorry, Dad. I was wrong."

His tirade cut short. He seemed stunned by my quick apology. In my past life, I hadn't given in so easily. I had argued, and for my defiance, I got a brutal beating instead of the money.

My eyes swept over the opulent mansion before I turned and walked towards the damp, crumbling basement. My room.

In my last life, my fathers "tough love" doctrine meant I got the worst of everythingfood, clothes, and shelter. I was constantly malnourished, and the scurrying of rats in the walls kept me awake most nights.

Meanwhile, my classmate, Jessica, lived in our house like a princess. She was more of a Pierce than I ever was.

It was only after my death that I learned the truth. Jessica was the daughter of my father's mistress and some other mana child he pathetically believed was his own, lavishing her with a love I had never known.

I picked up the old phone in my room and dialed a number I knew by heart. It connected almost instantly.

"Veronica, darling? Is everything alright?"

A sharp pain tightened in my chest. In my past life, after my parents' divorce, I had obeyed my father and never contacted my mother, believing she didn't love me. But after I died, her hair turned white overnight. She murdered my father to avenge me. Only then did I understand. I had always been in her heart.

I fought back the lump in my throat.

"Mom, I miss you Can you come home? And could I borrow some money?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then the sound of something crashing to the floor. Her voice, when it came, was laced with panic. "Veronica, are you in trouble? Did he hurt you?"

The sobs I'd held back for two lifetimes finally broke free.

Reborn, I would not be a victim again. I would make every single person who wronged me pay.

The next morning, I emerged from the basement to find my father and Jessica eating breakfast. The table was laden with a gourmet spread I had only ever dreamed of. My meals were usually worse than what we fed the dog.

Jessica saw me and put on a show of kindness. "Veronica, come and eat!"

Before I could respond, my father's face darkened. He slammed his hand on the table.

"She doesn't deserve a damn crumb! Get to school, now. If you're late, I'll beat you half to death." He sneered. "Useless girl, always looking for a handout! Is asking for money all you're good for?"

I felt the blood drain from my face as I caught Jessicas triumphant, mocking gaze. Without a word, I turned and left.

My father was right about one thing; I had to hurry. We lived in a sprawling estate in the suburbs, miles from the school. To build my "endurance," he forbade me from ever taking a car, forcing me to walk the entire way. In my past life, the daily twelve-mile trek had left me with a permanent disability.

Jessica, of course, was always chauffeured in a luxury car. Everyone at school thought she was the Pierce heiress.

I walked to the main road, hailed a cab, and settled into the back seat, calmly eating the breakfast I'd bought.

Playing by my fathers insane rules? I wasn't that stupid anymore.

I stepped out of the cab just in time to see Jessica gliding out of a gleaming black sedan, a smug look on her face. I ignored her and started walking towards the school gates.

Suddenly, she shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled and fell, my hands scraping against the rough pavement. "You took a taxi?" she hissed, her voice low and menacing. "Do you want me to tell your father? Don't come crying to me when he beats you to a pulp!"

My breath hitched. As I tried to get up, one of her bodyguards kicked me squarely in the ribs.

Pain exploded in my chest. "Don't you know who you work for?" I managed to gasp.

The bodyguard remained silent, his face a cold mask. Jessica's eyes flashed with jealousy, but her smirk never wavered. "Oh, please. Your father doesn't even consider you a Pierce. You're just trash. A pathetic little reject nobody wants."

With that, she sauntered into the school, surrounded by her fawning friends.

My palms throbbed with a fiery pain. It took me a long moment to push myself to my feet. Just wait, Jessica. Your time is coming. The title of Miss Pierce? I wouldn't want it if you gift-wrapped it for me.

In the classroom, everyone was busy with the fundraiser. I limped to my desk.

Suddenly, Jessica stood up and dramatically stuffed a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills into the donation box.

"It's our duty to help those in need," she announced to the room.

The teacher beamed at her, and the students murmured in admiration.

Then, Jessica turned her gaze directly to me.

"Veronica, how much are you donating? If you're short, I can lend you some."

One of her lackeys immediately chimed in. "Jessica, you're just too kind. Always doing good deeds."

Another one shot me a contemptuous look. "Not like some people. A millionaire's daughter who's too cheap to donate to charity. How selfish can you get?"

I stood up. "Is the size of your heart measured by the size of your donation?"

Jessicas friend scoffed. "Oh, right. Coming from a cheapskate like you, who won't even part with a single penny..."

The class erupted in laughter. Even the teacher looked at me with disapproval.

"Alright, that's enough. Veronica, it's your turn to donate..."

I walked slowly to the front, pulled a few hundred-dollar bills from my pocket, and pushed them into the box.

Jessica's face fell. "Where did you get that money?" she demanded.

I let out a short, sharp laugh. "Do I need to report my finances to you?"

She flushed, suddenly aware of the strange looks she was getting from our classmates, and quickly returned to her seat.

After class, Jessica left in her fancy car. I stayed behind to study for a while, waiting until I knew my father would be home, then I called a cab.

The moment I stepped through the front door, a vicious slap cracked across my face. It sent me staggering, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

My father's face was a mask of pure revulsion. "You little whore! Just like your tramp of a mother!"

Jessicano, her mother, Sandrarushed to his side, tugging at his sleeve with a pitiful expression. "Mr. Pierce, Veronica must not have meant to... she was probably just trying to take a shortcut... finding other ways... to make money..."

The insinuation hung in the air, and my father's rage exploded. He ripped the leather belt from his trousers.

"You worthless girl! I'll teach you!" he roared, the belt whistling through the air. "I'll teach you to be lazy! I'll teach you to seduce men!"

The leather bit into my skin again and again. Pain radiated through my body, a roaring in my ears. I scrambled to get away, but there was no escape.

Finally, his arm tired. He threw the belt to the floor. Sandra immediately started massaging his shoulder, the two of them looking like the perfect father and daughter.

My vision darkened. I let the tears well up in my eyes, my voice trembling as I began to sob.

"Dad, I didn't do any of those things. I've always listened to you... You told me to be frugal, and I was. I never disobeyed you..."

He snorted. "Then where did the money for the donation and the taxi come from?"

I hesitated for a calculated second, then spoke in a small, timid voice. "It... it was from Jessica..."

Sandra's face went pale. Jessica, who had been watching from the stairs, rushed down. "Veronica! You can't just lie like that... When did I ever give you money?"

My father's eyes blazed. "You dare lie to me again? I'll beat you to death!"

I kept my head down, my words choked with tears. "Jessica said she felt sorry for me because I had it so tough... so she gave me a gold chain as a handout. I sold it..."

Jessica froze, her eyes wide with panic as she looked at our father.

Because I wasn't lying. Once, to humiliate me, Jessica really had tossed a gold bracelet at my feet like I was a beggar.

My father saw the look on her face and understood instantly. He spun around and slapped her so hard she fell to the floor. She cowered there, too terrified to speak.

My father's entire philosophy was built on making me suffer. Anyone who interfered with his "method" was challenging his authority. Jessica giving me money was the one thing he couldn't tolerate.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Jessica wailed, crawling on the floor.

My father turned back to me, his voice cold. "Get back to your room."

I turned, and as I walked away, a slow, triumphant smile spread across my face.