Chapter 3

Penelope's POV

The following day, Dad suddenly announced that he was taking me out.

Henry brought me a beautiful little formal dress, and a makeup artist came to help me get ready. I thought Dad had finally forgiven me, and I was so excited that my hands wouldn't stop trembling.

Our car pulled up outside a luxurious hotel, where countless cameras immediately started flashing. The lights were so bright that I could barely keep my eyes open.

Dad took my hand and gave the cameras a polite smile, but his grip was so loose that I felt he might let go at any moment.

We were attending a charity gala, and reporters had gathered along the red carpet.

The moment they spotted us, they rushed over, shoving their microphones so close that they nearly hit me in the face.

"Mr. Renault, we've heard that your wife has been out of contact for quite some time. Is there any truth to the rumors that your marriage is in trouble?"

"Mr. Renault, why did you bring your daughter tonight? Is there a reason Mrs. Renault isn't attending such an important event?"

Dad stopped walking and bent down to straighten my collar.

Then, he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Don't hide from the cameras. Look right at them and make sure everyone can see how upset you are. I want your mom to see how miserable you've been without her."

I froze, staring up at him in disbelief.

But Dad had already straightened up and turned toward the reporters. He gave them a sad, helpless smile.

"My wife is probably still upset with me. Penelope has been sick these past few days, and she's been asking for her mom constantly. Unfortunately…"

He let his voice trail off and sighed softly.

The reporters immediately jumped at the chance to get a story about a cruel woman who'd abandoned her husband and daughter.

"Ms. Renault, do you miss your mom?"

"Has your mom called you at all?"

"Sweetheart, did your mom leave because she doesn't want you anymore?"

The cameras kept flashing.

I looked helplessly at Dad, hoping he'd take me away from all those people. But he just stood beside me, watching without saying a word.

He could see how frightened I was. My body was trembling, and tears were gathering in my eyes.

But when I tried to move away, he placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me in front of the cameras.

That was when I finally understood why he'd brought me here.

He wanted everyone to feel sorry for us so that Mom would be pressured into coming back, and I was nothing more than a tool for him to get what he wanted.

After the gala, we returned to the car.

Dad's affectionate expression disappeared as soon as we were inside. He leaned back against his seat, looking exhausted, and closed his eyes.

"Dad…"

I gathered my courage and gently tugged at his sleeve. "I didn't like those people. Can we please not go to something like that again?"

Dad opened his eyes and brushed my hand away.

"Penelope, you need to learn to be more understanding. Until your mom comes back, this is what we have to do. The more miserable you look, the guiltier she'll feel. Eventually, she'll feel so bad that she'll have no choice but to come see me."

I stared at him blankly.

"But Dad, those things they said really hurt."

He turned toward the window, refusing to look at me.

"Your mother owes us that much. If we don't do this, she'll never understand how badly she's hurt us."

So, that was all my anguish meant to Dad—leverage.

He didn't care how much I suffered as long as he could use it to bring Mom back.

When we got home, I discovered that Daniella had already moved in.

Later, I stood by the window and saw Dad downstairs in the garden, pushing Daniella on the swing.

He used to push me like that, too, always looking at me with so much love.

The sun was shining brightly, but watching them made my eyes sting.

Just then, the system sighed.

"Host, your mission progress is still at zero. You only have two days left."

I didn't answer.

I knew I wasn't going to complete the mission, and there was no point in trying anymore.

That evening, while we were having dinner, Daniella handed me a gift box.

"Penelope, I got you a birthday present! Why don't you open it and see if you like it?"

I didn't take the gift. Instead, I raised my head and looked straight at Dad.

"Dad, I want a birthday present from you, too."

He was sitting at the head of the table, cutting his steak. He didn't even bother looking up when he answered, "The present Daniella got you is from me, too."

"That's not the same," I insisted, keeping my eyes on him. "I don't want anything expensive. I just want you to say something to me."

Dad put down his knife and fork before wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"What do you want me to say? Happy birthday?"

My eyes immediately lit up, but before I could respond, he gave a mocking little laugh.

"Don't push your luck, Penelope. You need to understand something. Your mom isn't going to come back because she sees you happy. The only way to make her come back is to show her how much you're suffering."