Chapter 70
-Maya’s POV-
I could count the number of times I had seen my father laugh throughout my life. The numbers were very limited, yet here he was, Daniel Stone himself, perched on his throne–like chair–the one that always seemed to inflate his already gargantuan ego – his coming laughter echoing through his office. My gaze bounced between him and Natalia, whose glare could make someone melt ice.
Seriously, what the heck was so funny?
We’d managed to finagle our way into his company headquarters – the same one that had been teetering on the brink of collapse just weeks. ago after the whole investigation and money laundering fiasco. I had to give it to him. My father got back on his feet fast. In fact, his recovery was so swift it felt like the whole ordeal had been a bad dream.
He had almost bitten his secretary’s head off when she let me and as he called her, ‘my nuisance friend‘ in unannounced. Me, his own daughter and then with a single withering glare in my direction growled at me to ‘get on with whatever this was
So, here we were, the somewhat threatening text messages displayed prominently on his sleek desk, and instead of the expected outrage or concern, my father was doubled over, his laughter bordering on hysteria.
Natalia finally snapped. “Alright, enough! What on earth is so side–splittingly hilarious?”
Her words hung heavy in the air, momentarily silencing the room. My father wiped a tear from his eye, his chest heaving with exertion. A slow, mischievous grin spread acroos hos face. It was a look I didn’t recognize – a glint of something akin to… enjoyment? Maybe even a hint of respect flickering in those cold, calculating eyes.
The booming laughter that had filled the room moments ago died down abruptly, replaced by an unnerving silence. My father’s sharp gaze snapped to me, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “So, you finally decided to follow in my footsteps, did you?” he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. “Stole something from the bastard?”
Before I could even formulate a response, Natalia jumped in, her voice sharp with indignation. “Seriously? That’s what you find so amusing? The fact that Maya took something from Alex?”
The amusement vanished from my father’s face like a flame doused with water. His eyes narrowed into icy slits, and a vein throbbed prominently on his temple. “Do not,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous low, “utter his name in this office. Do it again, and I swear I’ll rip your tongue out myself.”
I have to give Natalia credit; even faced with that kind of chilling threat, she didn’t so much as flinch. Her glare remained unwavering, a silent challenge to his bluster. I knew Natalia couldn’t stand my father, and judging by the look on her face, she was about to unleash a verbal tirade that would make a sailor blush. Before things escalated any further, I stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Natalia’s shoulder.
“Can we please just focus on the issue at hand?” I pleaded, my voice betraying a hint of exasperation.
My father tore his gaze away from Natalia, his face a mask of irritation. “And what exactly is the issue, Amaya?” he inquired, his tone clipped. “The messages,” I stated, hoping to cut through the unnecessary tension. “I need your help to find out who’s sending them.”
He cocked his head to the side, steepling his fingers in a gesture that spoke volumes about his arrogance. “And why, pray tell,” he drawled, “should I waste my resources helping you with anything?”
My jaw nearly hit the floor.
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Chapter 70
Disbelief washed over me, quickly morphing into anger. “Are you serious right now?” I exclaimed, my voice rising in pitch. “Someone is threatening me, your own daughter, and you’re asking why you should help? Have you lost your freaking mind?”
He leaned back in his chair, “Don’t raise your voice at me or I will come and teach you how to show respect,” he warned, his voice laced with a barely concealed threat.
Natalia immediately opened her mouth to defend me, but I silenced her with a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I
turned back to face him.
“Don’t you ever get tired of this? Every single time we even try to have a conversation, it ends up with us screaming at each other. With threats. With you trying to kill me. Doesn’t it ever get old, playing the part of the cold, uncaring father? Don’t you get tired of being a terrible
father?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and I could see a flicker of something akin to annoyance pass through his steely facade. “This isn’t about me playing a part,” he countered, his voice tight.
I wasn’t done yet. “Then what is it about?” I pressed, my voice gaining strength. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be born into a rivalry, or to be treated like a ghost all my life and I will not apologize for it because I never asked to be your daughter and it is not my fault he fucking died!”
The silence that followed my outburst was unlike anything I’d ever experienced–It wasn’t just quiet, it was a thick, suffocating blanket that choked the air out of the room. Everything seemed to fade away, the office furnishings, the glint of the city skyline through the window – all of it blurred into insignificance..
All that remained was the raw, naked pain etched on my father’s face.
It was a look of such profound hurt, such soul–deep agony, that the words I’d spoken lodged themselves in my throat like lead. Regret, sharp and bitter, flooded my system. I hadn’t meant to say them, hadn’t meant to rip open the old wounds but the anger, the years of unspoken resentment, had all come spilling out with a force I couldn’t control.
The silence stretched on, cach tick of the clock on the wall a hammer blow against my already shattered heart. Finally, my father spoke, his voice so low and rough it was almost unrecognizable. “Who told you that?”
It was so low that I barely heard it then he repeated, “Who told you about Jeremiah?”
Hesitantly, I stammered out a single name. “Ivan.”
He lifted his head slowly, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. It was as if he was seeing me for the very first time, but not in a way I’d ever craved.
It was a look of… despair?
“I never tried to love you. I never did, because you could never be him. His voice cracked, betraying the raw emotion he was trying so desperately to suppress. “He was everything. Everything. And then he was taken away from me. And then what did you do? You chose the son of the man who took the person I loved most in this world.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, I hadn’t realized I’d started crying, but now the sobs wracked my body with a force I couldn’t control. The pain I’d felt all these years, the sting of rejection, the constant feeling of being an unwelcome shadow – it all paled in comparison to the crushing weight of his words.
This wasn’t anger anymore. This was a different kind of pain, a soul–sucking emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole. The rejection I’d always known was there, a constant ache in the back of my mind, had finally been laid bare.
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Chapter 70
He didn’t just dislike me; he hated me.
My own father hated me.
The words echoed in my mind: I never tried to love you.
1 clung to the edge of my chair, my chest tightening with each shallow breath. My gaze went back to him but his face was an unreadable mask. The raw pain I’d seen just moments ago was gone, replaced by a cold, empty shell.
The room began to spin, the air growing thin. The world seemed to shrink until all I could see was was the crushing weight of his hatred.
90%
the accusing glint in his eyes, all I could feel
Before I could crumble completely, a comforting weight settled on my shoulder. Natalia wrapped her arm around me, her touch a lifeline in the swirling chaos. Without a word, she helped me to my feet, her support the only thing keeping me upright.
As I stumbled towards the door, Natalia’s voice filled the room, ringing with righteous anger. “You are a terrible person, Daniel Stone,” she spat, her voice trembling with emotion. “And worse, you are a terrible father.”
Then the door slammed behind us.
I don’t know how i managed to get outside because I couldn’t feel anything other than the excruciating pain like someone had taken out my heart and was picking it into bits right in front of me. It hurt, so so much and then when Natalia whispered, “I am so sorry, Amaya.”
The dam finally burst.
I fell at the middle of the street and I just cried.