All Chapters of The President Daughter : Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

Clinton’s heart raced as the chairman fixed him with an unreadable gaze. The boardroom, once filled with congratulations, was now thick with tension. Lydia stood at the center of it all, calm and composed, watching the pieces fall exactly where she wanted them.The chairman turned to the executives. "Open the file. Read it aloud."A senior board member adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “This document contains evidence of financial discrepancies within the company specifically in projects under Clinton’s management.”Murmurs erupted. “What financial discrepancies?” one executive demanded.The man reading the file flipped a page. “According to these records, funds were funneled into offshore accounts under false project expenses. Large sums of money vanished under Clinton’s supervision.”Gasps filled the room.Clinton froze.How? How the hell did Lydia get this?“That’s impossible,” Clinton snapped. “Those reports are fake!”Lydia looked at him “Are they?”The executive igno

Clinton sat in his study, phone in hand, scrolling through the unread messages he had sent Lydia. No response. "Damn it."He tried calling again. Straight to voicemail.He typed another text.Clinton: Lydia, please. Just hear me out.No reply.Frustrated, he tried again. Clinton: Can we see just for a moment?Message blocked.He slammed his fist on the desk.She had cut him off completely.***Meanwhile, in the Zander mansion, laughter filled the kitchen. Lydia, Rowan, and Mrs. Zander were in the middle of preparing dinner, the air filled with the rich aroma of spices.Rowan held up a poorly shaped dumpling. "Alright, tell me the truth, this looks terrible, doesn’t it?"Lydia burst into laughter. "It's not that bad”“Not that bad?” Mrs. Zander chuckled as she stirred a pot. "Rowan, dear, just stick to tasting."Lydia’s phone vibrated from the pocket.Clinton, again.She sighed.Mrs. Zander raised a brow. "Who is that? Your phone has been vibrating for some time now."Lydia quickly

Two days later, Lydia sat in the back seat of a sleek black car, her fingers toying with the silver ring on her middle finger. The date with Mikhail was happening, despite her father’s disapproving frown when she was leaving the house.When she arrived, Mikhail was already waiting, lounging back in his chair at the rooftop restaurant. A lazy smirk played on his lips as he gestured for her to sit."Finally," he said . "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."Lydia rolled her eyes but took her seat. Mikhail poured her a drink. "Let’s skip the pretense. What do you really want?" she asked.His smirk widened. "To keep Clinton’s secrets. If you marry me, that is."Lydia’s stomach twisted. "And how do you know he’s behind all this and the kidnapping, attempted murder?” Mikhail raised his hands in mock surrender. "I don’t have to be sure," he said, laughing. "I just need to drop the files at the police station. They’ll find out on their own."His laughter was light, playful but there

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE MEETING Kelly opened the iron bacade, humming softly.La la la mm mm.In the dark small room, Susan harry was lying on the filthy puddle soaked floor. Her face was bruised, her lips cracked. Her once-glossy hair was matted with dirt and dried blood.Kelly’s shadow fell over her.“Hey, sunshine,” she said, her voice laced with faux sympathy. She gave Susan a kick, not too hard, but just enough.Susan groaned and weakly lifted her head.Kelly crouched beside her, smiling. “Good news. You’re getting out today.”Tears welled in Susan’s eyes. “A-are you serious?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.Kelly’s grin widened. “Of course. But only if you do something for me.”Susan recoiled instinctively. Her instincts screamed danger.Kelly stood, crossed her arms. “You’ll go to Ben’s company and tell everyone that Lydia kidnapped and tortured you.”Susan’s eyes widened in horror. “No. No, I can’t. That’s a lie. It’ll ruin her!”“Oh boohoo,” Kelly sneered, pacing slowly.

Clinton stared at his phone, hands trembling slightly. The walls around him suddenly felt suffocating.He had seen that pain in her eyes too many times—brushed it off like it was nothing, ignored it like background noise.He grabbed the phone, thumbs flying over the keys, words pouring out like a confession he could no longer bury: “Lydia… I don’t deserve to ask how you’re doing. But I saw you yesterday. And I realized—I never knew the woman I married. Not really. You were always powerful. Brave. Beautiful… in ways I was too blind to see."A pause. He deleted, and rewrote, his pulse hammering. "I was cruel. I define you when you were always priceless. I don’t expect forgiveness. But wherever you’re going, whatever storm you’re walking into—remember this: I was a fool to let you go, and I'm sorry for everything.” His thumb hovered over SEND. One tap. It didn’t undo three years of silence.It didn’t erase the bruise on her heart or the ache in her soul.It wouldn’t undo the dam