At the airport, my father sighed contemptuously:

At the airport, my father sighed contemptuously:
« She won’t even be able to pay for economy. »

My stepsister burst out laughing as they walked proudly towards the first-class flight. I remained silent… until a man in uniform approached and announced:
— Madam, your private jet is ready.

The entire terminal seemed frozen.

The rumble of suitcases echoed through Hall 3 like a silent judgment. My father suddenly shouted,
« Hurry up, Ava! You’re slowing us down! »

Brielle walked past me, her heels clicking on the polished floor, wearing a mocking smile:
« She’s surely never seen a plane this close before… »

My father sneered:
« She doesn’t even manage the economy, Brielle. »

My face was burning, but I remained silent. They were leaving in first class for a family celebration where I had never truly been welcome.

« Some people know how to make the right choices in life, » Brielle added, like a stabbing blow.

Two years earlier, I had left my father’s company after his marriage to a woman barely older than me and the passing on of everything I had built to his daughter, Brielle.

« Try not to dishonor the family, » my father murmured.

I looked him straight in the eyes:
« People will always talk, Dad. What matters is what they say afterwards. »

The boarding announcement rang out. They walked away laughing… until the man in uniform stood in front of me:
— Miss Monroe? Your plane is ready.

Father and Brielle froze. The officer indicated the private terminal:
— Miss Monroe — owner.

I smiled calmly:
« You were right, Dad. I can’t handle the economy. Now, it’s too small for me. »

On board the jet, the weight of humiliation evaporated. My father called out furiously:
« You’re chasing your dreams! »

« Dreams that built the company you still run, » I replied calmly. « I chose to leave. »

Two years of struggle, doubt, and hard work had transformed my AI logistics startup project — Monrovia Systems — into a global corporation valued at several hundred million.

Everything they used to make fun of had become the driving force behind my success.

When my assistant informed me that the New York media wanted a comment, a message arrived from my father: « What? »

I replied:
— By becoming everything you said I couldn’t be.

The plane landed in Manhattan. Two hours later, I opened the Global Tech Summit — an event organized and sponsored by my company.

— Richard Monroe and his daughter have confirmed their participation, said my assistant.

Of course they had confirmed it. They didn’t yet know that the summit they so ardently coveted now belonged to me.

In front of the glass-walled building, cameras flashed. I stepped out in a simple navy blue dress — no designer labels, but confident and elegant.

— Miss Monroe! a reporter exclaimed. — Is it true that Monrovia Systems bought Global Tech Network?

I smile:
— Let’s just say I like possessing what was forbidden to me.