Ch56 - Spoiled daughter

Ryan set his briefcase down and immediately caught sight of the maids’ uneasy faces. One of them was picking up a pair of heels and a coat from the floor — both clearly victims of his daughter’s temper.

He sighed. “What now?”

The staff exchanged helpless looks. No one dared to answer.

Ryan handed off his jacket and went straight for Lydia’s door. He barely knocked once before her voice snapped from the other side:

“DON’T come in!”

He turned the handle anyway. “Even me?”

The moment she saw his serious face in the doorway, Lydia froze. Her anger shrank back; she puffed her cheeks, tossed whatever was in her hands aside, and marched to the bed, plopping down with a huff.

Ryan shut the door behind him. “You ditched the gala tonight—said you had something important. Now you come home looking like you’re about to cry. Should’ve dragged you there with me.”

“I’m not crying,” she shot back, crossing her arms.

Ryan kept his stern look, but the truth was, he never really knew how to stay mad at her. One hint of tears and he’d fold. He pulled a chair over and sat.

“Alright then. Who upset you this time? Last time it was that French prick. Don’t worry—he’s not coming back anytime soon. I already had a word with my partners. No one’s working with him again. Happy now?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “That was forever ago. I’m not mad about that.”

“Then what?” he pressed, keeping his tone even.

Silence.

He raised a brow, already feeling that familiar dread creep in. “Don’t tell me this is about Julian again.”

His voice dropped, cold. The way she immediately looked away told him everything. His jaw tightened.

“I don’t get it,” he said, exasperated. “There are a thousand good men out there, yet you keep chasing him—a guy who doesn’t even take his life seriously.”

“He does take it seriously!” Lydia shot up, voice sharp. “YOU don’t know him at all!”

Her expression was fierce, almost trembling with conviction. For a second, Ryan just stared, feeling a headache coming on. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, enough. I’m not having this argument again.” He sighed. 

“You said you didn’t want to get married—fine. I respected that. You said you wanted to work, learn the business—fine. But what now? You’ve barely touched your work, and you’re chasing after a man. What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

Lydia frowned, lips parting like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out. Instead she sat back down hard on the bed, muttering, “You don’t have any patience for me anymore. All you ever talk about is the company. You don’t even care about me.”

Ah, there it was—the emotional guilt trip. Classic.

Ryan exhaled slowly. His tone softened, weary. “Lydia, tell me one thing you’ve ever asked for that I haven’t given you. You lost your mother so young, I tried to make up for it the only way I knew how. You’ve never gone without anything.”

He paused, his expression faintly tired. He and her mother had divorced long ago, but he’d never remarried—partly out of guilt, partly because he didn’t want anyone making Lydia feel replaced.

Lydia didn’t flinch.

“All that ‘making it up to me’ stuff? It’s just money, Dad. You were never around. The only people who actually raised me were the nanny and the house staff. You don’t even know what I like!”

Ryan froze. She wasn’t wrong about the early years — he’d barely been home back then. But lately, since the company had stabilized, he’d made a real effort to spend more time with her. 

Still, she’d grown up so fast it was like he’d missed the middle entirely. He didn’t even know what made her happy anymore. So he’d done what he always knew how to do — bought her things. Now it turned out that had been the wrong move too.

He softened his face a little, tried to sound calm. “Alright, I get it. I wasn’t around enough before. So now we start fixing that, yeah? We talk more. You tell me what you like, what you want to do, I’ll be there. I’ll make it happen. But there’s one thing, Lydia—just one—that’s never going to happen.”

His tone sharpened at the end, heavy with warning.

Lydia knew exactly what he meant. Her chest tightened, that same mix of frustration and defiance clawing its way up. “WHY not? Because you still think he’s beneath me? That he’s not good enough?”

Her eyes flashed. “So what—you’d say yes if he were some powerful man instead?”

Ryan just stared at her, at a complete loss.

Was she out of her mind? What the hell had Julian done to her? First Victor, then Julian—both Ashfords, both disasters. He used to think she’d get over that family after Victor’s accident, but no. She’d latched onto the younger one instead, and now it was full-blown obsession.

And never mind Julian’s so-called charm or talent—the man was married. Why the hell would she throw herself into that mess?

“ENOUGH,” Ryan snapped. “He’s married, Lydia. Married. I didn’t raise you to be someone’s affair.”

“I knew him first!” she shot back, voice cracking. “That woman doesn’t even belong with him. They’ll break up eventually, you’ll see—”

“Whether they do or don’t, it’s none of your damn business!” His tone rose, sharp and final. “Even if he got divorced tomorrow and turned into the perfect man, I still wouldn’t approve of you being with him!”

The air in the room turned thick, electric.

“Why?!” Lydia yelled, standing up, putting the bed between them like a barrier.

Ryan’s temples throbbed. “Why? Because I’m sick of watching you chase men like your life depends on it! Can’t you stand on your own for once? Focus on yourself—your work, your future. You build something real, you’ll have choices. Power. Independence. You won’t need anyone.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is really about?” Lydia snapped back, fists tight at her sides. “You’re just scared I’ll screw up your precious company!”

Ryan blinked, thrown. For a second, he couldn’t even speak. She really thought that? He’d bent over backwards for her, defended her, spoiled her—and now everything he said just bounced off like it meant nothing. He felt his patience fraying.

The room went silent. Lydia lifted her chin, waiting—expecting him to cave, like always.

But this time, Ryan didn’t. His voice came out low, cold.

“Fine. If that’s how you feel, then don’t come to the office tomorrow. I’ll have someone else take over your projects.” He stood, eyes filled with quiet disappointment. “You’re still my daughter. I’ll take care of you. But that’s as far as it goes. I won’t keep hoping you’ll grow up.”

Lydia froze. For once, she was speechless.

She hadn’t meant it like that—hadn’t wanted this. Working at the company wasn’t easy, sure, but people respected her there. Her father had chosen her over her cousin to inherit that world. He’d taught her everything himself.

That pride, that sense of being worth something—it wasn’t something money could buy.

Her throat tightened. She wanted to say something, anything—but her pride locked her jaw in place.

So she just stood there as her father turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.