The Price of Control

At ten at night, Daniel sat alone in his study.

Dim lights. Whiskey in hand—third glass, but it didn't make anything easier.

Laptop open in front of him, but screen blank. Documents spread on the desk, but unread.

What filled Daniel's head were only two voices.

Junior and Alina.

"Papa is mean! Junior hates Papa!"

"Five years I was there for Junior. You? You left."

Daniel took a swig of whiskey, feeling the burn in his throat but it didn't help numb the pain in his chest.

He knew—at a deep level he didn't want to acknowledge—that he was the cause of all this.

Junior cried because Daniel separated the boy from Alina.

Alina was slowly dying in her room because Daniel locked her up, threatened her, stripped all her rights.

All of this because of Daniel.

But...

There was a part of Daniel—the stubborn part, the selfish part, controlled by pride—that refused to accept it fully.

This shouldn't be like this.

His plan was simple. Clear. Logical.

Clarissa returns. Junior bonds with his biologica