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The Family 62

amily 62

Jean stared down at the open workbook on her desk, her face calm, her eyes steady.

Finished

Beside her. Asher mirrored her posture. His head was lowered, gaze focused intently on the study guide in front of him, completely detached from the noise around them.

They were, perhaps, the only two in the classroom entirely uninterested in the excitement surrounding Lacey.

Still, it was impossible not to overhear the chatter.

Jean had no particular opinion about Lacey getting invited onto Taylor’s new show. If anything, she just thought-

That Mr. Taylor had terrible taste.

Lacey’s Hope Cup performance had been average at bestAnd he picked her?

[Talk about a questionable judgment call.

Sure, even the best in the industry made mistakes.

Jean could forgive that.

Just then, the temporary homeroom teacher arrived, her heels clicking briskly across the tile as she entered.

Ever since their original teacher Ms. Wendy had been reassigned, the school still hadn’t found a permanent replacement. Each class had been cycling through other teachers on rotation.

Not that Stellarford lacked staff–but after the Wendy fiasco, no one really wanted to step into the hot seat.

Jean glanced up at the woman now standing at the front of the room. She wore a polite smile, trying to soften her late

entrance.

“Sorry, everyone. There was huge traffic jam this morning–I got held up.” She smiled sheepishly, her tone gentle.

“Excuse me, Ms. Teacher..

Asher’s cool voice rang out suddenly as he raised his hand

His tone was cold and flat, like water straight from the fridge–clear and sharp–edged.

The teacher blinked, caught off guard. “Yes, Asher?”

Heads swiveled toward him, everyone caught by surprise.

Even Jean turned, frowning slightly. She couldn’t remember the last time Asher willingly interacted with teacher–let alone raised his hand in class.

Asher met the teacher’s gaze, his voice unwavering

“If I remember correctly, you established a class rule against talking during lessons.”

The teacher nodded cautiously. “Yes, that’s correct.

Asher’s features remained calm, his tone as frosty as ever. “Then I’d like to fonnally report a few classmates for loudly disrupting class just now.”

The room froze

Asher calmly listed their names–each one familiar voice from earlier.

4:26 PM

chap🙂

“What the hell is wrong with you, whert You anuching now?

“Dude, seriously? The leader wasn

the room! We were just excited about Taylor visiting! Chill our?‘

“Asher, I didn’t take you for 1 ft. Gintal”

The teacher looked visibly uncontrolle

It was true. Asher was one of the top studeems Sellarior, admitted for his exceptional academic performance–but the people he just ratted out? All rich kids from poveril familie…

Tattling on them could stir a lot of trouble.

Was Asher fearless? Or just stupid?

Here at Stellarford, the faculty had to tread carefully he weren’t just students–they were heirs. Future CEOs. The children of old money.

So the school had created “guidelines,” soft rules that looked official but were mostly for showmeant to keep balance between order and appeasement.

The punishment for rule violations? Usually mild. Write a referation Wybe formal apology. Nothing more.

Asher wasn’t wrong but he was definitely making waves.

“Miss.” Acher said calmly, noticing her hesitation. According to your mules, youre supposed to issue a consequence.”

Caught, the teacher hesitated, then sighed.

She couldn’t afford to backpedal now–not without undermining her own autumny.

“You’ve all been warned plenty of times,” she finally said. “The rules are clear. If you brakethem, you’ll need to write a one-

housand–word reflection. Have it on my desk tomorrow.”

The born, whod been joking earlier looked like they’d swallowed sour lemons.

Ther tumed toward Asher with expressions dark enough to curdle milk. Their fists denied Hat weren’t in the middle of

they might’ve jumped him then and there.

Tea

cancer in Asher again.

and guir, not reacting to the storm he’d just kicked up. His profile was calm and clean–au–llle statue carved

For the mults the thrown at her?

ad be done ut on purpose, or was it just a coincidence?

Before Jean could ponder in further, a new sound interrupted the tension–a set of unfamiliar footsteps musactie that dont

Then, a man in a black sectum stepped into view. He knocked gently before offering a polite smile.

“Good mo

Director Taylor’s assistant. Mr. Taylor will be here in just moment–I’m herm

Instantly, the entire om mood tipped

The earlier terimler

Lacey pressed her lips together

chement surged through the students like electricity.

her emotions. Her fingers trembled with anticipation.

Chapter 62 Asher’s Revenge

What expression she’d wear when he walked up to speak to her.

The words she’d say to make the perfect impression.

Roughly five minutes later, Taylor himself arrived–surrounded by a small entourage of production staff.

Finished

He looked to be in his mid–forties, with a fit build and a friendly, open face. Dressed in a black track jacket, he gave off a

clean, energetic vibe.

As soon as he stepped inside, his eyes met Lacey’s.

She was practically glowing, her whole face lit up with excitement and delight.

But Taylor only glanced at her–and immediately looked away, like he didn’t recognize her at all.

Lacey froze.

Send Gifts

The Family

The Family

Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type: Native Language: English
The Family

Summary & Review: The Family

Jean Ginger was dead. A self-made woman who achieved financial freedom before thirty, her life was cut short in a tragic car accident. But instead of fading away, Jean woke up in an unfamiliar, overly frilly bedroom surrounded by stuffed toys. Her head throbbed as strange memories began flooding her mind — memories that weren’t hers. Within moments, Jean realized the unbelievable truth: she had transmigrated into the world of a book she once mockingly read online, The Real Heiress Awakens.

The story she remembered was an outrageously dramatic one about a poor girl named Sarah who discovered she was actually the real daughter of a wealthy family, the Gingers of Blairford. In her first life, Sarah had suffered greatly — betrayed, humiliated, and married to the wrong man. But after being reborn, she vowed to take back everything that had been stolen from her. She returned to the Gingers, exposed the impostor who had been living her life, and won over her powerful birth family and their love. Not only that, she even stole back her impostor’s fiancé — the male lead of the story.

It was a total wish-fulfillment fantasy: revenge, romance, and the triumphant rise of the “real” heiress. But for Jean, it was a nightmare — because she had been reborn as the fake heiress who loses everything by the end of the novel. Even worse, this character’s name was also Jean Ginger.

Still dazed, Jean checked herself in the mirror and nearly screamed. She wasn’t just the doomed heiress — she was thirteen years old. Her tall, elegant body was gone, replaced with short, chubby limbs and a round, childish face. On the bright side, she was years away from the events that would destroy her life. The real heiress hadn’t shown up yet.

Just as she was processing her situation, her phone pinged. It was a bank notification — $70,000 had just been deposited into her account. Jean blinked, counting the zeros again and again to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Seventy thousand dollars. For a monthly allowance.

Her pain, confusion, and panic melted away in an instant. In her past life, she had worked herself to exhaustion for every dollar. Now she was rich — effortlessly. She didn’t have to hustle, fight, or struggle. The only thing she had to do was exist.

“Fake heiress?” she thought with a shrug. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

Jean quickly decided she wasn’t going to challenge the real heroine or get involved in any melodramatic family battles. She knew how the story would end — the Ginger family would fall into chaos, her brothers would lose their minds, and Sarah would rise as the hero who brought them down. There was no point trying to change fate. Instead, Jean made up her mind: she would relax, play the role of a harmless background character, and enjoy her wealthy lifestyle until the plot killed off the Gingers. By that time, she’d be long gone — comfortably rich, maybe even checked into a luxury psychiatric ward if that’s what it took to survive.

But peace never lasts.

Outside her room, she heard a maid calling her name, saying that dinner was ready but she hadn’t responded. Then another voice answered — calm, deep, and commanding. It belonged to Dominic Ginger, the eldest brother of the Ginger family. The moment he entered, Jean instinctively grabbed a plush bunny and held it to her chest like a shield.

Dominic was everything his reputation promised — tall, cold, and intimidating, with sharp features that could have been carved from marble. He was dressed in a sleek, tailored suit that looked more appropriate for a business meeting than a family dinner.

Jean’s eyes darted up at him. Even though she was technically his little sister now, he looked like a completely different species. She knew from the novel that Dominic was the strict, emotionless type — a perfectionist who treated family like subordinates. He was one of the five Ginger brothers who would later become antagonists in the story, each powerful and broken in their own way.

Still, Jean decided to play innocent. She widened her eyes, her pigtails bouncing, her cheeks pink, and clutched her bunny tighter. She looked like a lost doll — the perfect image of a fragile, harmless child.

Dominic’s icy voice broke the silence. “Dinner. Now.”

Jean blinked. He talks? she thought, startled. In the original story, Dominic barely spoke unless necessary. Her inner monologue continued, mocking his stiffness — but before she could stop herself, something strange happened.

Dominic’s gaze sharpened, and he responded quietly, as if answering an invisible question. “I just got back from work.”

Jean froze. She hadn’t said anything out loud. That meant — he could hear her thoughts.

Panic hit her like a truck. She quickly forced a nervous laugh and said aloud, “Oh, okay…” trying to cover her shock. But inside, her mind was spinning. What kind of weird twist was this? Was Dominic telepathic now? This wasn’t in the book!

Dominic, meanwhile, looked just as confused. His jaw tightened as he studied the small girl in front of him. He was sure he’d heard her voice in his head — clear, childish, and slightly sarcastic — but her lips hadn’t moved. It made no sense.

The tension between them filled the air. Jean tried to smile sweetly, pretending to be the clueless little sister, while her inner voice screamed at herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to let her thoughts run wild if her cold, powerful brother could actually hear them.

Still, beneath the fear, another thought flickered in her mind — maybe this was her chance. If Dominic could hear her thoughts, maybe she could use it to her advantage. After all, she knew the future of every character in this story. And she wasn’t going to end up in a psych ward this time.

Not if she played her cards right.

For now, though, Jean did what any smart person would do when facing a dangerously perceptive older brother who might read minds: she smiled, hugged her bunny tighter, and quietly followed him to dinner — already scheming about how to survive in this ridiculous new world where fiction had become her reality.

Because if there was one thing Jean Ginger was good at, it was surviving — and making money while doing it.

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