Reborn Heiress Is Remarrying
Chapter 48: You Can’t Bully Me!

Chapter 48: You Can’t Bully Me!

Chapter 48; You Can’t Bully Me!

Sitting at her desk, Diane stares blankly at the screen.

The office around her was as busy as always, employees moved in and out of meetings, phones ringing, papers shuffling—but she heard none of it.

Her fingers hovered over her keyboard, but her mind wasn’t on work.

It was on Arthur. She thought something wasn’t right.

She couldn’t shake the unease in her.

She had left him in a fortress of wealth and prestige, but was he truly safe?

With a sharp breath, she grabbed her phone and sent a message.

-Diane: I’m picking up Arthur myself today.-

A few minutes later, her phone vibrated.

-Leon: Everything alright?-

-Diane: I just want to see him.-

There was a pause before Leon’s reply came.

-Leon: Understood. I’ll alert security.-

She locked her phone and exhaled.

She wasn’t sure why, but she needed to see him with her own eyes.

Before she could leave, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Diane."

She turned to see her manager, Lydia Harrington, standing in front of her desk with a file in hand.

Lydia was sharp-featured, middle-aged, and had the cold, calculating stare of someone who thrived in corporate warfare.

She had been Rachel’s replacement after Leon removed her from the company, and though she had never openly defied Diane, there was a strictness about her that bordered on hostility.

"I need these reports completed by tomorrow morning." Lydia placed the file down with a firm thud.

Diane barely glanced at it. "I’ll have them done by noon."

Lydia’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I need them in the morning."

Diane met her glare evenly. "And I need to pick up my brother from school."

Lydia arched an eyebrow. "Being the boss’s daughter doesn’t mean you can slack off, Hoffman."

Riot, who had been leaning against the wall, let out a low chuckle. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

Diane ignored him.

She stood up slowly, placing her hands on the desk as she looked Lydia directly in the eyes.

"I don’t slack off, Ms. Harrington. In fact, I’ve spent the last three weeks fixing the mess that Rachel left behind—something you have conveniently benefited from."

Lydia’s cold and icy expression was changed to lowered eyebrows immediately.

Diane continued, her tone was cool but she kept it professionally. "I’ll have the reports done by noon. If that’s a problem, you’re free to take it up with my father."

Lydia hesitated, then took a step back. "...No need."

Diane smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "Good."

Without another word, she grabbed her coat, nodded to Riot, and walked out of the office.

The moment Diane stepped onto the school grounds and saw Arthur, she knew.

His hair was a mess, his uniform slightly ruined.

But it was the faint blue shadow under his eye that sent a hot anger through her veins.

Riot noticed too. "Damn," he muttered. "That’s not just from falling down."

Diane’s heels clicked aggressively as she walked straight to Arthur, crouching down to his level.

"Arthur." Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it. "Who did this?"

Arthur lowered his head, gripping his backpack straps tightly.

Diane gently cupped his face, turning it slightly to examine the bruise. "Tell me."

Arthur shook his head.

Diane’s jaw tightened. "We’re going to the principal."

Arthur’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t resist.

She took his hand and marched into the building, Riot followed closely behind.

As expected, the principal’s office was lined with dark books.

Principal Whitmore, a heavyset man in his sixties with thinning gray hair, adjusted his glasses as Diane and Arthur entered.

"Mrs. Frost- Hoffman," he greeted, though there was no welcoming in his tone.

Diane didn’t waste time. "My brother was assaulted."

Whitmore sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Children roughhouse—"

"This isn’t roughhousing," Diane snapped. "He has a bruise under his eye."

Whitmore looked at Arthur, then back at Diane.

"Bullying is unfortunate, but children must learn to handle conflicts among themselves."

Riot scoffed from the doorway. "Oh, you’re one of those guys."

Diane’s eyes didn’t leave Whitmore’s.

"Arthur isn’t just any student. He’s the son of Leon Hoffman. Do you really want this school’s reputation stained because you ignored his safety?"

That got his attention.

Whitmore cleared his throat. "We take all concerns seriously, Miss Hoffman. But—"

"But what?" Diane cut in. "You’re friends with Rachel. That’s why you’re brushing this off, isn’t it?"

Whitmore tensed.

Diane leaned forward, her voice was lowered and it sounded threatening.

"If I find out you’re protecting the children of your wealthy donors at the expense of my brother’s safety, I will make sure this school never sees another dime from the Hoffman family."

Whitmore swallowed hard. "I... will look into the matter."

"Not good enough," Diane said coldly. "I want the names of the children involved, and I want action immediately."

Whitmore hesitated, but then nodded. "I’ll speak to the staff."

Diane straightened, smoothing her coat. "Do that."

She turned, taking Arthur’s hand again. "Come on."

As they stepped out of the office, Riot let out a low whistle. "Damn, remind me never to piss you off."

Diane didn’t answer. She was still seething.

As they walked through the hall, Diane suddenly froze.

A woman stood near the entrance, speaking quietly with a teacher.

Diane’s breath hitched.

She knew that face.

The sharp blue eyes, the honey-blonde hair tied into a neat bun, the familiar lift of her chin.

It was someone she hadn’t seen in years.

Someone who had once been part of her past.

But for the life of her—

She couldn’t remember who she was.

The woman turned slightly, her eyes met with Diane’s.

For a split second, recognition went across her eyes.

Then—

She smiled.

Not friendly. Not warm.

But knowing.

Diane’s fingers instinctively tightened around Arthur’s hand.

"Diane?" Riot nudged her. "You okay?"

Diane’s heart pounded.

Who was she?

And why did it feel like she had just come face to face with something dangerous?