Chapter 2 - The Wrath of a Father
The silence in the Hale mansion was deafening, broken only by the soft, rhythmic beeping of the medical equipment the stern woman had just set on the coffee table.
Daniel’s mouth opened and closed like a suffocating fish. He looked from my father’s custom-tailored suit to the armed guards, then finally to me.
“Mr... Mr. Mercer?” Daniel stammered, recognizing the billionaire from the covers of financial magazines he desperately studied. “There must be a misunderstanding. This is my wife, Emma Reed.”
“Her name,” the silver-haired attorney stepped forward, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, “is Emma Mercer. Sole heiress to the Mercer Global empire. And as of three minutes ago, she is no longer your wife.”
Vivian dropped the blanket. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably.
“Emma?” Vivian squeaked, her voice pitching high. “Our Emma? The charity case? No, no, that’s impossible! She came to us with nothing!”
My father ignored them. He walked past Daniel as if he were nothing more than an insect, falling to his knees beside the sofa.
The cold, ruthless billionaire whose single word could crash stock markets reached out with trembling hands.
“Emma,” my father choked out, tears shining in his hard eyes. “My little girl. I’m so sorry it took me this long. I promised your mother I’d protect you, and I failed.”
“You didn’t fail, Dad,” I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I was foolish. I wanted to hide. I wanted a normal life.”
“Dr. Evans,” my father barked, his demeanor instantly snapping back to authority. “Attend to her. Now.”
The private physician rushed forward, immediately taking my vitals and administering a painkiller through a swift injection. The stern woman took Lily gently from my arms, swaddling her in a heated, pure cashmere blanket.
“She’s hemorrhaging, sir,” Dr. Evans reported grimly, glancing at the blood on my dress. “Her stitches are torn from physical exertion. She needs immediate surgical repair and blood transfusions. The fact that she walked in here is a miracle.”
My father stood up. The sorrow in his eyes was instantly replaced by a murderous fury.
He slowly walked over to Daniel.
Daniel took a step back, raising his hands. “Mr. Mercer, please, I didn't know—she never told me! If I had known she was a Mercer—”
SMACK.
The sound of my father's palm striking Daniel's face echoed like a gunshot.
Daniel was thrown backward, crashing into the antique console table, shattering a Ming vase. He collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from his nose and split lip.
“My daughter almost died giving birth to your child,” my father said, his voice a low, terrifying growl. “And you ordered her to scrub your floors.”
“Daniel!” Vivian screamed, rushing to her son. She glared at my father. “You can’t do this! We are the Hales! This is our house!”
The attorney stepped forward, pulling a thick stack of documents from his briefcase.
“Actually, Mrs. Hale,” the attorney said smoothly. “Your son’s primary business loan is held by First Capital Bank. Mercer Global acquired First Capital Bank twenty minutes ago. Your loan is now in default due to a sudden reassessment of your creditworthiness. This house is being foreclosed upon as we speak.”
Daniel looked up, his eyes wide with absolute horror. “What? You can’t do that! My investors are coming tonight!”
“Your investors,” my father said coldly, “just received a call from my office. Anyone who does business with Daniel Hale will be permanently blacklisted by Mercer Global. You are bankrupt, Mr. Hale. Finished.”
I watched from the sofa as the reality of his ruin crashed down upon him.
For three years, I had loved Daniel with a pure, unassuming heart. I had cooked, cleaned, and endured his mother's abuse, all because I thought he loved the 'poor' girl I pretended to be.
Now, seeing him bleed on the floor, weeping not for his injured wife, but for his lost money, I felt absolutely nothing.
“Let’s go home, Dad,” I said quietly.
My father turned back to me, his eyes softening. The guards stepped forward, carefully lifting me onto a portable stretcher.
As they carried me out the door, with my beautiful daughter safely wrapped in cashmere, Daniel crawled toward us.
May you like
“Emma! Emma, please!” he begged, tears streaming down his bruised face. “I love you! I’m sorry! Don’t take my daughter!”
I didn't even turn my head. The heavy oak doors slammed shut, sealing his fate.
