Reborn To Ruin Her Rivals - Chapter 39: Chapter 39

After lunch, Arielle arrived at the school gate as promised. Olivia, Liam, and the others were already waiting, smirks curving their lips.
"School's too risky. Come with us to a bar," Olivia demanded, arms crossed like a gang leader. She had everything arranged to make Arielle suffer.
Arielle raised an eyebrow. "And if I say no?"
Rachel chimed in, "We didn't get beat up for nothing. Got the guts for a rematch? Teachers would ruin the fun."
Liam taunted, "Scared already?"
Arielle studied their overconfident faces. 'They must've called backup. Perfect. Another lesson in humility wouldn't hurt.'
Arielle said, "Lead the way."
The group exchanged glances, their faces devoid of any anger from the beating—instead, they looked thrilled.
Of course, they were happy. At the bar, they could trap her like rats in a cage. And the bar they'd chosen was owned by Liam's family.
It was daytime, so the bar wasn't open yet—perfect for a fight. Liam had already warned the manager to clear space for their "activities."
Arriving at the bar, they walked through the hall and entered the main area. Inside, the scene shifted dramatically.
A dozen street thugs were standing or sitting around, their outfits and demeanor screaming "gang affiliation."
Under Olivia and the others' gloating stares, Arielle merely curled her lips into a mysterious smile. "All together? Good. Saves time."
Her bravado stunned them. 'Where was the fear?' Olivia had imagined Arielle begging on her knees. This defiance wasn't part of the plan. 'Insane.'
"Listen here, bitch," snarled the red-haired gang leader—Olivia's so-called street friend, hands in pockets, spitting on the floor. "Tears won't help what's coming."
He'd been running with the streets for years—fights were old news to him. Not even just one little girl—he could take on twenty of them without breaking a sweat.
"Cut the crap! Just beat her up!" someone yelled.
The red-haired leader jerked his chin. "Get her!" His crew surged forward without hesitation, grabbing pipes or bottles.
Olivia, Liam, and others quickly stepped back, watching with cruel amusement. This was a done deal to them.
Arielle met the charge head-on. 'Good warm-up for me.' Her movements were a blur. One punch, down. Another kick, down.
The scene descended into chaos. In the dimly lit bar, curses and screams echoed: "Fuck! She hit my face!"
"Shit! My ass!"
"Get her! Guys, beat the crap out of her! "
"Hey! Move your fat ass, you're blocking me!"
"Where's my damn shoe?!"
Ten minutes later, it was over. Arielle stood unscathed, cracking her knuckles.
Olivia, Liam, and the others gaped at the groaning bodies strewn across the floor. 'What the actual hell?!'
Furious, Liam signaled his hidden backup friends he'd kept in reserve. "Now! She's tired—swarm her!"
Shaken out of their stupor, Olivia, Sophia, and the rest joined the renewed assault.
"Screw you, bitch!" A boy seized his chance amid the scrum, swinging a bottle at Arielle's head.
Crack! Arielle ducked smoothly and lashed out with her foot, sending him flying into a stack of chairs.
Within five minutes, the second wave was down, adding their groans to the chorus.
"Anyone else?" Arielle asked flatly, slinging her jacket over her shoulder, ready to leave. Then, sirens wailed outside.
"Fuck! Who the hell called the cops?!" someone yelled.
"Arielle! You coward! You called them!" Liam roared.
Arielle frowned. 'Not me.'
"Nobody move!" Police swarmed in fast. Leading them was the bar manager. Fearing someone might get killed, he'd made the call.
Liam seethed. Police involvement meant secrets were out. Twenty officers escorted everyone involved, including Arielle, to the police station.
Three hours later, parents bailed out the teens, all except the adult street thugs. Arielle had called Samson, posing as her uncle.
Scrolling through her sparse contacts—Samson, Vanna, Kaison, Arielle had decided Samson was the safest choice for this situation. After all, Vanna's tracks needed to stay hidden.
Samson had been surprised by Arielle's call. Hearing she needed an uncle for a police pickup, he'd dropped everything to help immediately.
Samson was more than happy to befriend a girl like Arielle—ruthless, efficient, decisive in action. And in some ways, she reminded him of himself.
Samson had connections in the station, so he'd already pieced together most of what happened.
The parents of the others had been furious—until they laid eyes on Arielle's guardian. The moment they recognized Samson, their irritation vanished.
Word got out about who he was: not just Cloud Nine's infamous King of Gamblers, but also a savvy businessman with clout.
The other parents were all prominent figures in Theoria, so of course, they recognized this big shot, who was even more formidable than Henry.
Some of them silently thanked their luck that they hadn't lashed out at Arielle. Otherwise, they'd have offended a tough guy, especially since none of them had known her family background beforehand.
Crossing Samson was unthinkable. His influence wasn't the kind of thing ordinary people dared to mess with.
"Mr. Lowery! What an honor to meet you!" One of them stepped forward, forcing a smile. Outside the police station, such a scene was somewhat weird.
"Honor?" Samson snapped. "Is it an honor that your kids ganged up on my niece? Thank goodness she can handle herself."
Everyone went dead silent. Samson turned to Arielle and added, "Sweetheart, did these brats start it? They bully you first, right?"
Everyone froze. 'What kind of uncle is this?! Our kids were bandaged and bruised; Arielle looked pristine. The bias was blinding.'
'Sweetheart?!' Arielle nearly choked. The serious Samson suddenly playing doting uncle was jarring.
Samson, seeing her reaction, smiled wider. 'Calling her just "Arielle" would feel too formal,' he reasoned. 'Sweetheart... affectionate. Like my Alice...'
Meeting his strangely indulgent gaze, Arielle nodded. "They provoked me first, like a rabid dog—what was I supposed to do?"
They were speechless again. 'Did she just call our kids rabid dogs?!'
Sophia's mother, Alex Anderson, pointed at Arielle, furious yet afraid. "You—!" But she swallowed her words, glancing at Samson's cold stare.