Chapter 4

Camelia walked forward slowly, closing the distance between herself and the middle-aged man standing before her. Every click of her heels against the marble floor echoed through the room, slow yet filled with unmistakable pressure. Her gaze remained fixed on Bagaskara's eyes—the man who, on paper, was her biological father, but in reality, was the person she hated most in her entire life.

"Oh, Bagaskara... it seems you've never changed. Always defending your illegitimate daughter," Camelia said in an exceptionally calm voice, yet her words sliced through the silence of the room.

The middle-aged man's face twitched violently. The veins on his temples bulged, and his breathing became ragged the moment he heard his name spoken so bluntly, without a single honorific—let alone being called "Father."

"You... How dare you call me Bagaskara?!" he roared, his voice shaking the room as his right hand clenched tightly at his side until his knuckles turned white.

Camelia stopped exactly two meters away from him. Folding her arms across her chest, she tilted her head slightly, a contemptuous smile playing on her lips.

"Enough, Bagaskara. Don't waste your energy trying to make me call you 'Father,'" Camelia replied calmly, though her eyes were as cold as ice. "Deep down, you know very well that you've never deserved to be called that."

"You ungrateful child!"

His furious shout reverberated throughout the mansion, making Vivian, who was hiding behind her father's back, flinch. His anger had reached its breaking point, as though he were ready to strike her at any second. Yet Camelia did not move an inch. There was not the slightest trace of fear on her face. Instead, her mocking smile only widened, openly challenging the moral superiority of the man who had destroyed her childhood.

"Enough," Camelia interrupted before he could hurl more insults at her. She waved her hand dismissively through the air, clearly tired of the drama unfolding before her. "Just get to the point. Why did you suddenly ask me to return to this country after exiling me for so many years?"

Bagaskara drew a deep breath, struggling to suppress his anger long enough to explain the real reason he had summoned his eldest daughter home. Straightening his back, he looked at Camelia with the absolute authority of a patriarch who expected unquestioning obedience.

"Our families made a marriage agreement years ago," Bagaskara declared in a firm, commanding tone. "And you... you will marry Morgan."

"Marry Morgan?"

Camelia repeated the words skeptically before letting out a dry, cynical laugh. The corner of her eye twitched as a wave of emotion crashed into her chest. Her name had just been linked to the very man who, only hours earlier, had left red marks all over her body in the darkness of a hotel room—the same man whose bloodline carried an endless hatred toward hers.

Bagaskara knew their history better than anyone. Ever since their school days, Camelia and Morgan had never been able to remain in the same room without creating tension. They were like oil and water, forced together by a cruel twist of fate.

To Camelia, Morgan's family name symbolized ruin. Years ago, it was Morgan's father who had ruthlessly orchestrated dirty business schemes that drove her late mother's powerful company into catastrophic bankruptcy. That financial collapse pushed her mother into a deep depression, until she ultimately chose to end her own life in a tragic manner. The wound had never healed, transforming into a burning desire for revenge as Camelia grew older.

Morgan, on the other hand, harbored no less hatred toward Camelia. After her mother's death, Camelia's family publicly accused Morgan's father and filed legal charges against him, destroying his reputation. Surrounded by relentless media scrutiny and overwhelming public pressure, Morgan's father died in a fatal car accident while trying to escape the pursuing press. Morgan placed the entire blame for his father's death squarely on Camelia's shoulders.

That hatred had taken root too deeply. Even now that they had both grown into mature adults, neither of them had let go of their resentment. Whenever their eyes met, all that remained was a fierce hostility waiting for the chance to destroy the other.

"You want me to marry Morgan?" Camelia asked again, this time in a quieter voice, trembling with restrained emotion. Her folded arms tightened as her fingers dug into the fabric of her sleeves until her knuckles turned white.

"Of course!" Bagaskara answered without the slightest hesitation, stepping forward as though asserting his authority as the head of the family. "The engagement between you and Morgan will proceed whether you like it or not! This is a business arrangement that will save what's left of our assets, and you have no right to refuse."

Camelia stared at her father's face in utter disbelief, mixed with overwhelming disgust. The man standing before her truly had no conscience. After allowing her mother to die, he now intended to sacrifice her as well, offering her to the son of the man who had destroyed her mother's life.

Behind Bagaskara, Vivian held her breath, her expression suddenly turning tense. Her jaw clenched tightly, and her eyes burned with intense jealousy. Vivian knew exactly who Morgan was—a handsome, powerful, and incredibly wealthy man she had pursued for years without ever receiving so much as a glance from him. Realizing that the position of Morgan's wife was being handed so easily to Camelia, the stepsister she despised most, filled Vivian with a jealousy that burned like wildfire.

What Vivian did not know was that, to Camelia, this marriage was not a blessing—it was a death sentence. Worse still, cruel fate had already bound them together on the bed in Room 404 the previous night.

Camelia drew a long, steady breath, forcing her racing heartbeat under control. She lifted her chin and looked at Bagaskara and Vivian in turn, wearing the coldest smile either of them had ever seen.

"You two are truly unbelievable," Camelia hissed. "You actually want to make my greatest enemy my husband?"