Chapter 5: The Daughter He Hated

I spent the entire night thinking about my father, Patrick Hart. If anyone could tell me what had happened during those missing ten years, it was him.

In my memories, he had always been my biggest supporter. Strict in business, yes, but with me, he was always gentle. I was his only daughter, and he had never been shy about spoiling me. When I was a child, he used to tell everyone that one day, I would inherit everything he had built—the Hart family fortune, Hart Enterprises, all of it.

So naturally, I believed that going home would give me the answers I desperately needed.

I was wrong.

The address on my phone brought me to a small house on a quiet, modest street. I stared through the car window, my brows furrowing. "This can't be right."

The driver checked the GPS. "It is, ma'am."

I looked at the house again. It was small, old, and completely unlike the sprawling mansion where I had grown up. There was no tall iron gate, no security detail, no pristine garden, and no long driveway.

I stepped out of the car slowly. Maybe my father had moved. Maybe the mansion was being renovated.

I walked up to the front door and knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung open—and my heart stopped.

"Dad?"

Patrick Hart stood before me, but for a moment, I could barely recognize him. His hair had gone entirely gray, his face was gaunt, and he looked decades older than the father I remembered.

I smiled instinctively. "Dad."

The moment his eyes registered my face, every trace of warmth vanished. There was no joy, no relief, no surprise—only cold, sharp hatred.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was flat.

I froze. "I came to see you."

"You shouldn't have. I don't want to see you."

My heart sank. "Dad..."

"Don't call me that," he snapped.

"I don't understand—"

"Of course you don't," he let out a bitter laugh. "You never understand anything until it's too late."

"I need your help," I pleaded, tears stinging my eyes. "With my life."

"Your life?" He scoffed. "You destroyed it yourself."

"What did I do?"

"Don't," his eyes narrowed. "Stop pretending. You always have an excuse."

"I'm telling you the truth! Something happened to me!"

"Something happened to you?" He stepped closer, his voice trembling with fury. "You happened to us."

I stood there, speechless.

He turned back toward the dark living room. "Go back to Liam."

"Liam?" I followed him.

"Your husband. Whatever else you have done, Liam is the only person who still has the patience to deal with you."

"Dad, where is our house?" I stepped inside. "Where is the mansion?"

His expression hardened into stone. "We don't have one. The Hart mansion is gone."

"Why?"

He looked straight into my eyes. "Because of you. You gave it away."

"To whom?"

"You gave everything away!" he barked. "The company—Hart Enterprises. Everything!"

I couldn't breathe. "My company? Why would I do that?"

"That's the question you should be asking yourself!"

"Who has it now?"

Patrick stared at me with intense bitterness before uttering the name I had heard only hours before. "Edward Fox."

A cold chill ran down my spine. Edward. The same man Liam accused me of having an affair with.

"Who is Edward Fox?" I asked desperately.

"You brought him into our lives!" Patrick yelled. "He was just a scholarship student!"

That triggered a faint memory—a quiet young man sitting alone in a lecture hall. My father had recognized his brilliant mind and decided to sponsor his education.

"He was the student you gave a scholarship to," I murmured. "What happened?"

"You happened," my father repeated bitterly. "You trusted him more than your own family. You stood right in front of me and begged me to hand over control. You said he was brilliant, that he could take the company further than I ever could."

"I... I wouldn't say that."

"You did! And because of that, I lost everything—the company, the mansion, our family's fortune. Sold off and stripped away."

"Is that why you hate me?" My voice broke.

Patrick stopped near the door, looking back at me with eyes full of deep, unbearable grief. "I don't hate you because you made a mistake, Abigail. I hate you because you watched me lose everything... and you still chose him."

"I don't remember any of this..."

"I know," he said softly, holding the door open. "Maybe that's the only mercy you've ever been given."

"Dad!" I grabbed the edge of the door before he could close it. "Did I... did I really love Edward?"

Patrick looked at me with an unreadable expression. "I don't know what you called it. But you chose him over everyone else."

The door clicked shut, leaving me standing alone on the porch.

My phone vibrated in my hand. I looked down at two new notifications on the screen:

Edward Fox: We need to talk.

Edward Fox: You can't keep avoiding me.

My fingers went ice-cold.

I didn't know what had transpired during those missing ten years, but now I knew where I had to start. If I wanted to understand the woman I had become and why my family was destroyed, I needed to face the man she had chosen over her own blood—Edward Fox.