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I stared at him, my father, the man I thought was dead because of car accident. The mask lay on the table between us, its dark eyes hollow, like the lies that had filled my life. For a moment, my mind was a whirlwind of memories, vivid and raw, dragging me back to seven years ago.
Seven years ago, I had a different life, a simpler one. Edinburgh was my home, a place where laughter filled the air, and the warmth of my mother‘ s love shielded me from the harshness of the world. My mother, Suzanne, was my rock, my everything.
But then there was Matthew Rodriguez. My father.
He would appear sporadically, his tailored suits and expensive cologne a stark
contrast to our modest home. I remember one evening in particular, the air thick with tension as he slammed a bag of
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onto the table.
“This will change your life,” he said, hist voice calm but commanding. “Let Daphne come with me. I’ll take her to Scotland, give her everything she could ever want.”
My mother, her voice trembling but firm, shot back, “You think money can replace a family? I can raise Daphne just fine without your help.”
I sat there, frozen, the tug–of–war between them making my chest tighten. When Matthew turned to me, his eyes softened, but his words cut deep.
“Daphne, don’t you want a better life? Don’t you want to leave all this behind?”
I looked at my mother, her hands. trembling as she clutched the edge of the table, and shook my head. “I’m staying here.”
But Matthew wasn‘ t a man who took no for an answer.
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Weeks later, he returned with lawyers and threats. He left my mother in Edinburgh and dragged me to Scotland, into a life I never wanted.
His new family awaited–a cruel stepmother who treated me like an intruder and reveled in my misery. My father, blinded by his wife’s manipulations, barely noticed. The man who once fought for me had become a
stranger.
I focused on my studies, determined to escape the gilded cage he had placed me in. Secretly, I visited my mother whenever I could. She welcomed me with open arms, but I noticed the changes–the weight loss, the exhaustion. One day, the truth came. out: she had kidney disease.
“I didn’t want to burden you,” she said, her voice frail but steady.
Burden me? She was my mother. I vowed to do whatever it took to help her. I steal money from my father, pretending it was
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d with tuition, and funneled it toward her
herireatment.
land, t
But then Matthew dropped a bombshell that
at I was going to marry Marco Salvani.
arco was the heir to a healthcare empire. saw an opportunity and agreed to the arriage, not for love but for my
ties vile
other‘ s survival.
alieno
enmeter the wedding, I begged Marco for
- lp. “Please,” I said, clutching his hand.
sudies mother needs a kidney transplant. Can
hage he
de
u help her?”
dmsmiled, promising he’d do everything nedmecan. But Marco‘ s promises were as hangestow as his words. Months later, I
we dareived a call from the nurse. My mother ay diseas passed away. I rushed to Edinburgh,
y heart breaking with every step. Her
burden yo
eless body lay there, cold and still, a stark steady.
ntrast to the warmth she had always
vas myliated.
k to help!
hat enraged me most was the doctor‘ s ather, pre
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revelation: her transplant wasn’t covered.
“What do you mean it wasn‘ t covered? I paid for everything!” I yelled.
The doctor hesitated, then said, “The insurance was canceled. The company flagged discrepancies in the application, and the premiums were never paid on time.”
I didn’t need to ask who was behind it. The threads all led back to my father.
That day, standing by her lifeless body, I made a vow. I would destroy the people who had taken her from me.
The memories faded, replaced by the present–the cold, sterile room, the mask on the table, and the man I once called
Dad.
“Why?” I asked, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Why did you do it? Why did you kill her?”
Matthew leaned back in his chair, his face
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calm, almost smug. “Because, Daphne, you needed to see the bigger picture. She was holding you back, tying you to a life beneath your potential.”
“She was my mother!” I shouted, slamming my fists on the table. “You had no right!”
He tilted his head, studying me like I was some puzzle he had yet to solve. “You‘ re my daughter. My heir. I needed you to be free of distractions, to embrace your destiny.”
“Destiny?” I repeated, incredulous. “What destiny?”
“To continue my legacy,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You‘ re the only one capable of taking my place, Daphne. You‘ re stronger than you think, smarter than I ever was.”
I shook my head, disbelief washing over me. “You want me to become a criminal?
To follow in your footsteps? Never. I’d rather die.”
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Matthew sighed, as if I were a stubborn child refusing to eat my vegetables. “You‘ re saying that now. But in time, you’ll see things my way. You‘ re more like me than you realize.”
I stood, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. “You don’t know me,” I said, my voice low but firm. “And I will never be like
you.”
