Chapter 4

Upon hearing that, I realized that the child next to me was none other than Desiree.

I glanced at her coldly. "Are you finally acknowledging the fact that I'm your dad?" I asked.

Desiree tilted her head upward in an arrogant manner. "Try not to let it get to your head," she replied. "If you don't—"

Before she could finish her sentence, I slapped her across the face.

She cupped her reddened cheek and stared at me in disbelief. "How dare you! I'll never call you my dad again for the rest of my life!"

Samantha pulled Desiree behind her, exclaiming, "We're adults. If a child misbehaves, we should verbally correct their behavior. We shouldn't resort to violence, no matter what!"

I scoffed. "Why didn't you step in when she was beating up my son then? Since she's admitted that I'm her father, you should have no say in how I discipline my own child."

I pushed Samantha out of the room and locked the door from the inside.

Desiree was terrified. "If you lay a finger on me, Mom will never forgive you. You can't just do whatever you want just because you have some stupid money!"

Stupid money?

If it wasn't for my "stupid money", Desiree would never have been able to attend such a good school. And if Vivian hadn't bribed Samantha using the money I sent her for child support, the latter wouldn't have stood idly by while Desiree beat Andy up.

I pulled Desiree onto my lap and gave her a firm smack on her bottom.

"Who taught you to be a bully?"

Even though she was sobbing hysterically, she still refused to acknowledge her mistake.

"I didn't say anything wrong!" she declared. "Andy is a bastard! I know about everything. He's just a homeless kid you adopted!"

She continued, "A disgusting, homeless kid like him shouldn't be my classmate. How could you hit me because of someone like him? You have no right to be my dad. I refuse to call you my dad anymore!"

She was being incredibly stubborn. But after I disciplined her for a while longer, she stopped behaving so arrogantly and simply resorted to crying.

Ultimately, Andy tugged on my sleeve and said, "That's enough, Dad. You're the one who told me that girls are more sensitive to pain. Since she's already been punished, I don't blame her for what she did anymore."

Choking between sobs, Desiree cried, "I don't want your pity. My mom will definitely make you pay for what you've done."

Andy didn't care about her threat. Instead, he stared at me with a pleading expression.

I sighed, deciding to let it go.