Blurb：
Mia Johnson, the poor scholarship student, endures daily humiliation at Elite International High School. Forced to clean bathrooms and sit by the trash can, her life changes when the school’s top troublemaker rescues her from a locked restroom and declares her his girlfriend. But the real shock comes when she brings the school bully home—driving through valleys and mountains of her family’s vast estate. As he discovers her true identity as a billionaire heiress from an agricultural empire, their dynamic shifts dramatically. Watch as Mia navigates high school politics, hidden wealth, and an unexpected romance with the most dangerous boy in school. This reverse harem, enemies-to-lovers story explores themes of bullying, wealth disguise, and fierce protection.
Content：
At school, everyone sees me as the charity case.
Being able to attend high school here was only possible because of my dad selling peaches day and night.
So, somehow, it became the default: I clean the bathrooms, I wipe the blackboard, I take out the trash.
That was, until the day I got locked in the restroom, and the school’s top troublemaker got me out.
“From today on,” he announced, “she’s my girlfriend. Anyone who messes with her, messes with me.”
Later, I brought the school bully home.
Driving through the first valley of the family estate, he happily said, “It’s beautiful out here! We should visit more often.”
Crossing the second mountain, he pouted and asked, “Babe, you know I treat you well, right?”
Crossing the third mountain, his voice cracked with emotion: “You heartbreaker, even if you’re not that into me, you can’t just lead me out to the middle of nowhere!”
Crossing the fourth mountain, he stared in disbelief. “Wait… you mean all of this… is yours?”
My dad thought I was too isolated.
He fired my private tutor and sent me to the elite international program at a top high school.
He even bought a small apartment in the city so I could live independently for a while.
Before I left, he earnestly advised me: “The students here have it tough. Make sure you blend in with them.”
I nodded, showing I understood: “I’ll go easy on them. Make sure you transfer enough medical funds to my account.”
My dad immediately lost his temper: “That’s not what I meant by ‘blending in’!”
I tilted my head, confused.
My dad sighed: “Forget it. Just try to make a friend.”
The school campus felt tiny—smaller than our estate’s winery building.
When I stood at the podium, the teacher asked me to introduce myself.
I remembered what my dad said before I left: “How do I make friends?”
He thought for a moment: “Be sincere and helpful.”
Okay.
To make friends, first be sincere.
“Hi everyone, I’m Mia Johnson. My family is in agriculture.” I thought mentioning the specific scale of our operations—supplying a major national organic chain—might sound like bragging, so I kept it vague.
A snicker ran through the room.
“Ag? Like, cows and dirt?””What kind of country bumpkin gets into the international division?”
“Look at her shoes—no logo or anything.”
“Such a pauper. Probably makes less in a year selling peaches than I get in allowance for a day.”
“Hey, poor kid, did you sew that backpack yourself?”
A girl painting her nails in the front row looked at me.
I nodded: “If you like it, I can make one for you too.”
We have plenty of alligators at home—I’ll call my dad after class to catch one.
The laughter nearly lifted the roof.
A guy in the back laughed so hard he fell over.
“Quiet!” The teacher barely maintained order. These students were all privileged—upsetting any one of them could cost her job.
I was seated near the back door, next to the trash can.
Wind blew through the window, carrying a stench that hit hard.
I quietly moved the trash can aside.
The girl in front of me wasn’t having it.
“The new girl is messing around back here. It’s distracting me!”
The teacher adjusted her glasses: “Mia Johnson, go stand outside.”
School started too early—I hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet.
Standing outside, I quickly got hungry.
Inside, the teacher was lecturing enthusiastically.
I thought about it—knocking wouldn’t be appropriate.
I took out a pen, wrote a note, and stuck it on the door.
“I’m going to eat first. I’ll come back and stand later.”
The cafeteria was being cleaned—only one stall had some leftover breakfast.
It was my first time trying funnel cake.
The crust was crispy, the filling smooth and sweet. It was heavenly.
A shame there were only two left.
I walked while eating, and before I knew it, I bumped into someone.
Sugar smeared all over their chest.
As I looked up, the half-eaten funnel cake in my hand was snatched away.
“Funnel cake? Give me a bite.”
I remembered my dad saying people here have it rough.
He was right—this guy looked like he was about to faint from hunger.
Watching him wolf it down, I gave him my last one.
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised.
“You’re not scared of me?”
I shook my head.
“Trying to suck up to me?” He sounded somewhat pleased.
I shook my head again.
“Listen, I just have low blood sugar. If you breathe a word about this, you’re dead,” he said, his tone turning fierce.
I nodded.
“Fine. Since you know your place, I’ll have your back at school from now on.”
I nodded again, then paused and looked up: “Thank you… but, Who are you?”
He completely lost it, glaring at me through gritted teeth: “You don’t know who I am?!”
“Who am I?!”
This guy’s pitiful—asking a stranger who he is.
“Did you lose your memory?”
“Don’t worry. Search for ‘mom and dad’ on your phone—they’ll know who you are.”
I pulled out two artisanal fruit candies and placed them in his hand.
“I’ve been out too long. I can’t help you find your parents.”
“If you really can’t remember, see a doctor. I hope you recover soon.”
The homeroom teacher hadn’t noticed the note I left on the door.
But the department head who inspected classes did.
The head was furious: “A student skipping class to eat! Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!”
He couldn’t risk angering the privileged students, but he could easily make an example of the seemingly powerless one. My homeroom teacher, in turn, directed her own version of anger at me.
I was assigned to clean the restrooms for a week.
Along with the mop and broom, I was also handed the chalkboard eraser from the podium and the homework assignments from the class monitor.
I remembered my dad’s advice on making friends.
“Be sincere and helpful.”
Well, taking out the trash could count as helping.
I pulled the trash can toward the restroom.
The guy who’d laughed hysterically that morning approached me.
“Mia Johnson, right? Let me help you.”
He was strong—he lifted me like a rag doll and carried me into the boys’ restroom.
Other guys followed, carrying the trash can and cleaning supplies.
“Thank you. You’re all welcome to visit my home sometime.”
Everyone laughed again.
“But I’m supposed to clean the girls’ restroom—”
Before I could finish, a hard kick landed on my stomach, sending me crashing into the boys’ restroom.
Pain exploded deep inside, making my organs ache.
The noisy crowd instantly scattered—some even ran out mid-zip.
My clothes were stained with liquid from the floor, emitting a foul smell.
The cleaning tools were thrown at me haphazardly.
The stench mixed with something else.
The guy who kicked me crouched down, pinching his nose with a malicious grin: “You reek, Mia Johnson. You’re such a fool.”
“Fools belong in places made for fools.”
The group’s laughter was full of malice.
I didn’t understand where this sheer malice came from. But I did understand one thing: the odds were one against five.
My past record was a hundred percent wins.
I pressed against the floor to steady myself and stood up.
A swift, hard stomp snapped the head right off, and suddenly I was gripping a solid wooden handle..
“Well, look who’s back on her feet. Getting soft on us, Jake?” the ringleader, a guy named Shane, sneered, clicking his tongue. He was clearly the one in charge.
“Soft? Please. You’re the only pig-brain here, Shane,” Jake retorted. He cracked his knuckles, a nasty grin spreading across his face. “Hey, Mia Johnson. You want a ten-thousand-dollar hospital bill, or a hundred-thousand-dollar one? ‘Cause I’m happy to rearrange your face for you—”
His sentence was cut short by a fist that came out of nowhere, connecting with his jaw with a sickening crack.
A tooth—half a tooth, really—flew from his mouth, trailing blood. It landed with a faint plop in a dirty puddle on the floor.
“You bastard!” Jake choked out.”
“Jake, you dare touch someone under my protection? Tired of living?”
The guy who’d taken my funnel cake that morning kicked Jake hard behind the knee.
His kneecap hit the tile with a dull thud.
“Apologize!”
“S-sorry, Kieran… I didn’t know she was—”
“Now you know! Wrong person!” Another kick sent him fully kneeling.
Jake was on his knees in front of me.
“S-sorry, Mia!”
I frowned, took out a tissue, picked up the tooth, and walked over to Jake.
“I’m not your sis. And here’s your tooth back.”
I gripped his chin, applied slight pressure—a faint crack only we could hear.
Using the tissue, I placed the broken tooth right into his mouth.
Everyone else scrambled away in panic.
“Kieran, Kieran, Kieran! Our families are close! If you hit me, my dad will come for you!”
“Bull! You’re just sucking up because your family depends on ours for supplies.”
“Kieran, I was blind! I didn’t know! Punish him, not me!”
“Right, you need an eye doctor. But first, take a punch.”
“Kieran! We won’t dare again!”
“Hah,” Kieran snorted coldly, stepping behind me.
“You’ve all seen her. From today on, she’s my girlfriend. Anyone who messes with her answers to me!”
“Get lost!”
Several guys dragged Jake away, stumbling out.
The restroom fell quiet.
“Thank you, Kieran.”
It was the first time I’d heard his name.
“Don’t mention it. Mia… what was it? Mia Johnson?”
I nodded.
“You sure are quiet. All nods.” Kieran took the stick from my hand and tossed it aside.
Then he wiped his hands on his jeans with a look of distaste. “A girl like you shouldn’t be holding this dirty thing.”
“By the way, how do you spell your name?”
“Mia, like ‘me-a’. Johnson, like the common surname.”
Kieran had no friends at school.
With his fists, he fought everyone from the principal to students.
His dad was a major shareholder, so things always blew over.
But in this school, those who feared him and those who liked him were split fifty-fifty.
At 6’2″ with captivating eyes.
A rebel attitude paired with wealth.
Aside from being a poor student, he had everything going for him.
After the incident with Jake, I called my dad.
“Dad, I got into a fight. I need medical compensation.”
“Goodness, why on the first day? How bad is it?”
“Lost a tooth.”
“Did they say how much?”
“No, but…”
I considered asking for a million, then remembered what Jake said in the restroom.
He wanted to hit me and only offered ten or a hundred grand.
It made me angry: “Dad, don’t wire me anything extra. Just send ten thousand directly to his family. I wish I could throw it in his face.”
It was the first time I’d let any real emotion seep into my voice.
My dad, on the other end, sounded almost tearfully proud. “Throw it! Make a statement! Should I send a ‘Congratulations on Your Survival’ trophy too?”
“Absolutely not!” I vetoed the idea sternly.
“Though… we could send one to Kieran.”
The plaque was ready quickly—ordered in the morning, delivered by noon.
Dad had an urgent meeting overseas, so the driver brought it.
I couldn’t find Kieran, so I hung the plaque at the funnel cake stall.
It looked absurd.
“Funnel Cake” next to “You’re Awesome.”
The stall had a line all day.
I didn’t get any.
Neither did Kieran.
He was furious.
“Who put that plaque there?”
“This is the only place with sweet stuff!”
Sweet?
I pulled out two fruit candies.
“Kieran, here.”
Kieran took the candies. “Mia Johnson, they say your family in the argriculture business?”
I nodded: “Want some? I’ll bring some next time I go home.”
“Not that. Is it tough… coming from a farming background to a place like this?”
I thought about my dad needing half an hour just to inspect the vineyards by helicopter, and nodded again.
Kieran’s expression shifted to one of pure pity.
“Mia Johnson, from now on, if I have funnel cake, you’ll have some too.”
My eyes lit up.
He’s such a good person!
“My family’s not rich, but here’s my allowance—ten grand. Use it if you need.”
Ten grand allowance?
Definitely not a big business.
Now I looked at him with pity.
But he’s so honest.
Well, be sincere and helpful.
Dad, I might not have made friends yet.
But one came to me.
After becoming friends with Kieran.
More girls started hanging around me.
Chloe came most often.
The girl whose mom always complained to the school.
“Teacher, why isn’t Chloe seated next to the podium?”
“Chloe’s mom, that spot is for disruptive students.”
“So? Teachers should treat everyone equally, no exceptions.”
“Teacher, why doesn’t Chloe get to write on the board for the quiz?”
“Chloe’s mom, because she didn’t study.”
“So? A teacher should have ethics! You can’t look down on students who haven’t memorized it!”
Chloe was like her mom—loud and illogical.
“Mia Johnson, you pauper, why are you always with Kieran?”
“We’re childhood sweethearts, you know? Do you even know what that means?” She said it with a triumphant smirk.
I tilted my head, feigning deep thought. “Childhood sweethearts? Oh, you mean like… child-sized sweaters?” I kept my face perfectly innocent.
“Mia Johnson!” Chloe screeched.
“AAre you calling me shallow?!”
Chloe stomped her Adidas shell toes with bows.
“You won’t win, Mia Johnson! Kieran’s heart will always be mine!”
“Just wait!”
I shook my head, seeing Chloe’s eyes redden with anger.
I held back what I wanted to say.
Kieran’s heart might not be yours, but it definitely belongs to funnel cake.
Summer rain came down hard and fast.
One evening, a boy came to our class with a message.
“Meet at the school’s back gate during self-study.”
“Kieran wants you there.”
The boy ran off before I could ask anything.
Weird—not Kieran’s style.
I stayed cautious, bringing a long-handled umbrella to the back gate.
The rain poured, and the light was out.
Walking in darkness, I saw three figures with dyed hair huddled together.
“Little girl, you asked us to teach your classmate a lesson—we recorded it.”
“If this gets out, can you stay at school?”
“Maybe give us more money.”
“Or let us have some fun.”
“Such fair skin—we haven’t felt that before.”
“Y-you dare! If anything happens to me, my family will make you pay!”
Hard to see, but the voice was clear.
The trapped girl was Chloe.
As someone grabbed Chloe’s collar, I charged forward with my umbrella.
The metal handle struck one guy’s face, leaving a red mark.
He howled in pain, hopping around.
“You b*tch! Where’d you come from? Get her!”
The wet ground was slippery—the second guy charged and face-planted.
The third cursed, trying to help the second up when my umbrella handle hit him.
This time with more force—both tumbled down, one cushioning the other.
They wailed in pain.
I pressed their heads together, making them bump in the rain.
“Mia Johnson! Behind you!” Chloe screamed.
A shiny pocket knife lunged toward me.
The first guy had gotten up—Kieran arrived just in time, kicking him away.
The knife barely grazed my cheek.
My heart raced.
“Mia Johnson, why’d you start a fight here?”
Rain dripped from Kieran’s hair onto his face.
His eyes barely open from the downpour.
“I thought you were here. What about you?”
Kieran jerked a thumb toward the main school building. “I saw you heading this way from a window upstairs.”
So I came because I thought he was here, and he came because he saw me coming here.
We laughed in the rain.
Chloe’s screams had attracted security.
When flashlight beams approached, she crouched in a corner and burst into tears.
After giving my statement at the police station, Chloe’s mom was still yelling in the lobby.
Chloe sobbed uncontrollably.
Couldn’t string together a sentence.
Chloe’s mom saw me and dragged Chloe over.
“Apologize!”
Chloe stumbled, pushed forward.
“S-sorry! Mia Johnson!”
“Thank you… thank you for saving me.”
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