Not My Daughter Movie 소설 & 이야기

All the CCTVs around here are off, with none of them on. Diolinda -- my beautiful and cheerful daughter, where are you?

he asked. My father’s tone shifted instantly. Smooth. Polished. “Not at all. This is my daughter.” Daughter. Not Nova. Roman’s eyes softened slightly. “Is everything alright?” I shook my head once. “I am fine.” I was not. Roman took a step closer. “She did nothing wrong.” I snapped. “I do not need saving,” I said, my voice shaking despite myself. “And I definitely do not need this.” I turned to my father. “You care more about a video than your own child.”

I couldn't bear to hear any more. Slamming the door behind me, I locked myself in my room. My phone buzzed with a new message, the sound sharp and intrusive. I opened the message, and a video began to play. The moment I saw it, my heart stopped. Rowena's screams filled the room, and I froze, unable to move. In the video, my three-year-old daughter lay in a pool of blood, her tiny body marked with the terrible, cruel lashings she had endured. She looked directly into the camera, her lips trembling as she whispered, "Mommy... save me..."

Maya yelled and chuckled as the crowd struggled to take more pictures and videos of me. “Hi ma’am, a quick question. Are you really Jessica Hart?” A voice yelled as he struggled to make his way towards me, but was stopped immediately. “Please, ma’am, we want to know if you’re really the daughter of Mr Hart.” The night of my party, dad had made sure all the pictures taken had been discarded because I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet, but now, after seeing Fiona’s face again I’m so ready to show them I’m not that girl they can push around anymore.

I'm your mother Aaron,I carried you nine months in my stomach and you dare to keep secrets, no I don't believe it. Lord! She will start again. “Mom, the girl who intrigues me is Hilary Clinton.” He takes a break and adds: My boss's daughter So his son was under the spell of the billionaire's daughter, all that was missing was that. “She has just turned eighteen, are you aware of that?” “Shh! Too loud mom, my father will hear us.” The lady couldn't help laughing. “I would like to know her.” “It's impossible, I think it's my worst enemy at the moment.”

" Your words suggest that there is someone behind the whole setup and when I think about questioning it my pain increases due to nervousness and tension and I can't hide it. "I am your daughter!' I cry out, feeling the liquid wet my legs. "Yes, and that's why you're going to keep your mouth shut." Say, impersonal. My vision blurs and I feel my temperature drop, leaving my hands sweaty and cold. "What's wrong with you?" Dad asks, looking fatherly for the first time. "I am not feeling well." Is all I can say before I hit the ground, feeling my consciousness slip away and all I hear before passing out is Peter's voice screaming in alarm.

As I move, my dress rustles softly, and my hair stays perfectly in place. "Wow, Lessia is this not too much?", I ask unsure. "No, it is perfect", Lessia said still trying to arrange the strands of hair on my head. I rolled my eyes and said, "Lessia why did you dress me like this, I look like two million threw up on me". She looked at my reflection in the mirror and said, "You look amazing and by the way you are the daughter of the Mafia boss, you need to dress the part". "Mafia?", I asked confused.

he said, "If she were the one who was sick, we wouldn't make you donate either. We have so many resources beyond your comprehension. We would certainly find a alternative suitable match." Something inside me caved in. Quiet. Irreversible. "Of course," I whispered, a faint, broken smile on my lips. "You would never risk her. I was never your daughter—" Before I could finish, his face went dark. Then he raised his hand. The guards moved forward. Marco grabbed my wrist, his fingers biting into bone. "How dare you speak to your father like that?" Crack. The slap caught me across the face. My head snapped sideways. Blood gushed from my nose, warm and copper-sweet, spilling through my fingers as I

Right in front of everyone, he pulled a thick stack of papers from his bag and hurled them into the air. My medical records. Screenshots of Maya switching the cookies. Photos of me writhing on the floor before I died. "Look at them!" Dad's voice cracked. "Look at how this so-called micro-expression expert killed her own daughter, one step at a time! "She mistook her daughter's medical symptoms for lies! She watched her daughter suffocate on the security cameras while she was out enjoying a concert and a fancy dinner! "And look at the daughter she raised! A ten-year-old who figured out how to kill without leaving a trace—and make herself look like the victim!"

I just felt this hollow emptiness inside me. That little life that had been growing inside me for nine months. The one that kicked me every day, that I talked to in the quiet of the night. Gone. "Where's Jason?" I asked. My father wiped his tears away, and his eyes went cold. "He's with Rachel." "She gave birth. A son." "The entire Martinez family is celebrating. No one even remembered you existed." I laughed. I laughed so hard my whole body shook. "Good. That's good."