I Married My Ex's Billionaire Father-Chapter 306: How To Talk To Your Betters

It was the single most humiliating thing that had ever happened in her life.

Ophelia Welhaven had attended royal banquets, charity galas, and private dinners with heads of state. She had walked red carpets, given interviews, and commanded entire rooms with nothing more than the strenght of her name.

And now she was being shoved into the back of a police car like a common criminal.

She had never been in jail before. Never even imagined a scenario where she would find herself anywhere near one. Yet here she was, handcuffed, photographed, fingerprinted, and processed like every other lowlife who passed through those grimy doors.

The indignity of it made her stomach churn.

The officers had treated her with cold efficiency, unmoved by her name, her wealth, or her furious protests. After the paperwork was done, she had been unceremoniously pushed into a holding cell and left there like an unwanted package.

No special treatment.

No respect.

No lawyer.

That last part enraged her the most.

Her world felt as though it were collapsing in on itself, brick by brick. Nothing made sense anymore. Just hours ago she had been in control, certain of her position, certain of her power.

Now she was trapped behind iron bars with no idea what would happen next.

It had to be a nightmare.

Any moment now, she would wake up in her own bed, in her own house, with her life exactly as it was meant to be.

Except she didn’t wake up.

The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, cold and unforgiving. The cell smelled faintly of sweat, disinfectant, and something stale she didn’t even want to identify.

Ophelia paced the small space like a caged animal, her heels clicking angrily against the concrete floor.

"Do you know who I am?" she suddenly yelled, storming toward the bars and gripping them tightly. "You can’t just keep me locked up in here like this! I demand to see my lawyer!"

Her voice echoed down the corridor.

No one answered.

"I have rights!" she screamed. "This is unlawful detainment!"

Still nothing.

Her manicured hands trembled as she shook the metal bars.

"I want my lawyer!" she shouted again.

"Lady, why don’t you just shut up?" a tired voice growled from behind her. "Some of us are trying to get some sleep."

Ophelia froze.

Slowly, she turned.

On one of the benches at the far end of the cell lay another woman, stretched out with her arm thrown over her eyes to block out the lights. Her clothes were worn and dirty, her hair messy, her entire appearance rough and unkempt.

Ophelia stared at her in disbelief.

This was the kind of person she was being forced to share a cell with?

The very idea was revolting.

She wrinkled her nose in open disgust.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you filthy creature," Ophelia snapped, her voice sharp with outrage.

The woman lowered her arm.

Then, very slowly, she sat up.

Ophelia felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine as she got a proper look at her cellmate.

The woman was short and stocky, with badly scarred skin and a fresh bruise blooming across her cheek. There was something hard about her eyes, something dangerous.

She looked like someone who was intimately familiar with violence.

And entirely unbothered by it.

"Filth?" the woman repeated with a sneer. "That’s rich, coming from someone sitting in the same cage as me."

Ophelia lifted her chin.

"I don’t belong here," she said coldly. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ll be out of this place soon enough."

The woman let out a harsh laugh.

"Yeah? That’s what they all say."

She stood up, stretching lazily.

Ophelia instinctively took a step back.

The movement irritated her.

She was Ophelia Welhaven. She did not cower from people like this.

"Listen carefully," Ophelia said, trying to regain control. "I don’t know who you think you are, but when my lawyer arrives, you’ll regret speaking to me this way."

The woman tilted her head, studying her.

"Lady," she said slowly, "I don’t think you understand where you are."

She gestured around the cell.

"This isn’t your fancy country home. It isn’t a five-star resort. There are no servants here, no tea parties, no spa dates."

Her lips curled into a cruel smile.

"In here, your name doesn’t mean a damn thing."

Ophelia stiffened.

"I will not be spoken to this way," she snapped. "Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?"

The woman stepped closer.

Close enough that Ophelia could smell the stale smoke on her clothes.

"Actually," she said quietly, "in here, I’m the one you should be worried about."

Ophelia’s heart skipped.

But she refused to show fear.

"You wouldn’t dare touch me," she said, baring her teeth. "One complaint from me and you’ll never see the outside of a cell again."

The woman laughed.

A low, ugly sound.

"That’s adorable," she said. "You really don’t get it, do you?"

Ophelia glared at her.

"I don’t have to get anything from someone like you."

The woman’s eyes hardened.

"See, that attitude?" she said. "That’s exactly the kind of thing that gets people hurt in places like this."

Ophelia swallowed but held her ground.

"I am Ophelia Welhaven," she declared. "I don’t belong with criminals and thugs."

Her cellmate stared at her for a long moment.

Then she grinned.

"Well, Ophelia Welhaven," she said mockingly, "right now you look like just another scared woman in a holding cell to me."

Rage burned through Ophelia.

"You will regret this," she hissed.

The woman cracked her knuckles.

"Funny thing is," she said, taking another step forward, "I’ve been coming in and out of places like this for years. I practically live here."

She shrugged.

"Jail is the only place I get some peace and quiet."

Ophelia’s stomach twisted.

This was not going the way she had imagined.

She had expected fear. Respect. Recognition.

Not this.

"Stay away from me," Ophelia warned, trying to sound commanding instead of nervous.

But the woman only smiled wider.

"I was planning on relaxing tonight," she said, rolling her shoulders. "Getting a little rest."

Her gaze flicked over Ophelia from head to toe.

"Then you showed up screaming and banging on the bars like a spoiled child." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Ophelia felt her composure slipping.

"You don’t scare me," she said, even though a small part of her knew it was a lie.

The woman laughed again.

If you were smart, I would.

She took another slow step closer.

Ophelia’s back hit the cold metal bars behind her.

She hadn’t even realized she was retreating.

"You seem to think you’re still important," the woman said softly. "But in here, you’re nobody."

Ophelia lifted her chin.

"I will not be intimidated by the likes of you."

The woman’s eyes gleamed.

"Good," she said, rubbing her hands together almost gleefully.

"I like a challenge."

A chill ran down Ophelia’s spine.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

The woman rolled her neck, clearly enjoying herself.

"I think," she said, "it’s time someone taught you a little lesson about how to talk to your betters."