Chapter 3

“Daddy’s home, Mom! Let’s go downstairs! Daddy’s back!”

Clarisa’s high-pitched voice broke the suffocating silence of the bedroom. The little girl jumped off the bed with sparkling eyes, momentarily forgetting the pain on her backside from her grandmother’s earlier ضرب. To her, Dewangga’s return was a glimmer of hope—the only moment she felt she had a protector, even if her father often acted cold.

Serena set aside the warm compress she had been using to ease the pain in her lower abdomen. She forced a faint smile, masking her pale face with a light dusting of powder. “Yes, sweetheart. Let’s go welcome Daddy,” she whispered, holding Clarisa’s small hand.

Downstairs, the large teak door swung open. Dewangga stepped inside in his expensive suit, still neat despite the fatigue lining his handsome face. In both hands, he carried several large bags filled with soft, adorable plush dolls—the kind of toys Clarisa had always dreamed of whenever they passed by a toy store.

“Daddy!” Clarisa ran down the stairs happily, her small footsteps echoing across the marble floor. “Did you bring dolls for me? That teddy bear I wanted, right?”

She stopped right in front of him, her hands already reaching out, ready to receive what she thought was her father’s way of making up for never spending time with her. Her bright, hopeful eyes were a sight that should have softened even the hardest heart.

But before her fingers could touch the bag, a wrinkled yet firm hand yanked her shoulder, sending the child stumbling backward.

“Don’t you dare dream! Your father has never liked you!”

Emely’s piercing voice thundered through the living room. She stood there with a cruel, triumphant smile, while Vanes lounged on the sofa with a feigned fragile expression, as if she were the center of the universe.

“Your father didn’t bring those dolls for you, Clarisa,” Emely continued mockingly. She glanced at Dewangga before looking back at her granddaughter with disdain. “He brought them for Aunt Vanes! As a token of love because she’s pregnant with a baby boy! Something your mother could never give!”

The world seemed to stop spinning for Serena, who had just reached the bottom of the stairs. She froze, watching as Dewangga walked past his own daughter without even sparing her a glance. He approached Vanes, placed the expensive dolls beside her, and gently stroked her hair—a touch Serena hadn’t felt in years.

“Is that true, Dewangga?” Serena’s voice broke, trembling between anger and devastation. “You brought those dolls for Vanes? Right in front of your own child who has been longing for your attention?”

Dewangga finally turned, his gaze as cold as ice. There was no guilt, no remorse. “Vanes is carrying my child, Serena. She needs to stay in a good mood. These dolls are just a small part of the care she deserves.”

Serena’s heart dropped.

My child?

So it was true. Dewangga had rekindled his affair with his first love—so far that it had created a life now being celebrated in this very house.

“Then what about Clarisa? She’s your child too!” Serena stepped forward, her voice rising. “She waited for you all day, endured pain from your mother, just to see you give gifts to another woman?”

Before Dewangga could answer, Emely cut in dramatically. She suddenly grabbed his arm and pointed accusingly at Serena, as if she had just witnessed a terrible crime.

“Dewangga! Don’t believe this woman!” Emely shouted. “This afternoon, your ‘pure’ wife pushed Vanes and made her fall in the kitchen! She’s jealous because Vanes is carrying a boy. Do you still want a vicious wife and a disobedient daughter like her?”

Vanes immediately covered her face, letting out soft, fabricated sobs. “Please, Auntie… I’m fine. Maybe Sister Serena didn’t mean it. She’s probably just stressed because of her problematic pregnancy.”

“I never pushed her!” Serena defended herself, her voice shaking violently. “Mother, you’re lying! I just came back from the hospital and found Clarisa being beaten by you! Vanes just sat there watching!”

Dewangga stood up. His tall figure cast a dark, intimidating shadow over Serena. He walked toward her, each step pounding like a death knell against her dignity.

“Did you push her, Serena?” he asked in a dangerously low voice.

“No, Dewangga! I didn’t! Your mother is framing me so you’ll throw me out!”

Slap!

A harsh slap landed on Serena’s cheek—not from Dewangga, but from Emely, who seized the moment. Dewangga remained silent, allowing his mother to humiliate his wife right before his eyes.

“How dare you accuse me of lying!” Emely snapped. “Dewangga, look at her! She doesn’t even respect her elders!”

Terrified, Clarisa clung to Serena’s leg, crying uncontrollably. “Daddy, don’t scold Mommy! Mommy didn’t do anything wrong! Grandma was the one being mean to me!”

Dewangga looked down at Clarisa, but there was no affection in his eyes—only deep disgust. “Take your child to the room, Serena. Before I lose my patience and throw both of you out tonight.”

Serena held her burning cheek. Tears fell—not from the physical pain, but from the crushing reality that the man she had loved since her youth had become a monster she no longer recognized. She looked at Dewangga, then at Vanes, who gave a faint, victorious smile from behind her hand.

“Seven years,” Serena whispered, her voice low but sharp. “Seven years I threw away my career—my name as the best producer—just to become a doormat in this house. And today, you’ve proven that I am nothing more than a stranger in your life.”