𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 ; Baby Daddy || K.TH ✔️

33 | Penitentiary

"How have you been, my dear?" With a landline phone pressed to his ear, after wasting a few minutes staying quiet, my father finally spoke. He was sat across me with a glass separating us—yes, I paid him a visit at the penitentiary.

"I'm fine, as you can see," I stated. Another round of silence followed after my response.

"How are your mother and Saya?" His question caused a mocking chuckle and scoff to erupt from my lips. After he ruined our life, he had the audacity to ask how we were doing.

"Saya and Mom?" I questioned rhetorically and scoffed. "Let's start by—mom developed a mental illness after listening to the neighbours calling her family cold-blooded killers, Saya died while performing YOUR responsibilities to the family and to top it off, Mom had a stroke and is now in a comatose state after I broke the news about Saya's death to her," I said in a stretch trying to contain my anger.

The authorities did a good job dividing the convicts and their guests with glass and metal because if they didn't, I would have stood up and ripped his hair off his head.

"Well, I guess you could say they are fine. Saya is resting in peace, he doesn't have to worry about money anymore and Mom is also resting in the HDU, she doesn't have to worry about anyone calling her names," I added.

"Me? I was bullied by the entire school but I am living well. I live in a penthouse now, and I have a job that pays shit loads of money—and look at this, the price of this bag is enough to hire a good lawyer, get your case reopened and get you acquitted—and this necklace, the price is enough to buy a small house in the suburbs," I rambled pointing to the diamonds encrusted necklace.

I came to confront him. Show him that upon all his selfishness, I was living an amazing life. Show him that even if I have the power and money to get him out, I WILL NOT. If he had let us know the type of job he was doing, if he had told us the truth then we would have been prepared for him to go behind bars. Mom wouldn't have gone crazy and we would probably have some funds to fall back on.

"Dad, I came here to ask you a question and I want you to be one hundred per cent honest with me. With all that has happened, I think I deserved to know the truth. What exactly was your job?" After calming down, I let out.

"I am an Office Manager, you know that." He lied through his teeth. I laughed mockingly at his answer. "You know Dad, I met a man..." I trailed off. He stared at me trying to get where I was going with my words.

"He has money, he has a little daughter that loves me. He's working as a project manager...at Chomrhade Holdings," His eyes widened at the information.

"You're not planning to be with him, right?" He asked. I scoffed before responding. "He told me that Chomrhade Holdings is a Shell Corporation for Organised—"

"Stop talking immediately!" He shouted cutting off my sentence midway causing me to flinch. "It's not true!" He said in a more calm voice, leaning closer to the glass.

"But I saw it with my own two eyes," I informed. He moved and sat back on his chair.

"How is your mother doing?" He changed the topic and asked. "In a coma? She's just there, almost lifeless." I responded.

"Don't say things that'll get you killed," He let out across the phone. "Ignorance is bliss, my dearest."

—

That was how the conversation ended with my father at the penitentiary. He ended up admitting he was a hired killer although, he didn't let me finish my sentence.

We were conversing on the phone and anyone could be listening which left me a little bit confused. Weren't the government supporting them? Why didn't the organisation help him get out of prison? Why did they leave him to rot in there?

"Wraya?" My name being called startled me as I was far deep in thought. "Ahh!" I let out a yelp and turned back. I found the beige man—Kim Taehyung standing behind me with a grocery basket in his hand.

I just got dropped by my Uber and was standing in front of my apartment's building, on my way in. "Mr Kim?" I let out softly, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," He said and stepped closer to me. "You're carrying the bag I gave you," He looked at my hands. "It looks good on you," He said.

"I have a question," I didn't reply to his compliment. Instead, I wanted to know more about Chomrhade Holdings. "Is the government not backing up Chomrhade Holdings?" I questioned.

"Ignorance is bliss," He simply stated.

"I'm too far deep in this to say ignorance is bliss. I need to know and the only person who can answer my questions is you. Please tell me," I begged. One of the things I hated most in my life was having questions and not getting answers to them. That was why most of the time, I tend to give my own answers to the questions I didn't have the answers to.

"Let's discuss this somewhere private. Come to my place," He stayed quiet for a bit before responding and proceeded to walk into the building. I followed him closely as we both got into an elevator.

"Reality went to your place when she got back from school and she was a bit sad you weren't there. She returned home sulking," He said.

"I went to see my dad," I informed.

"Ahh, I thought he died. Which penitentiary is he in?" He immediately understood what was going on and questioned.

"West Coast Penitentiary," I replied.

The elevator opened on the 19th floor. We stepped out and into his unit. Reality stood up from the sofa and ran straight to me, hugging me tight.

"Wraya!" She let out.

"Oh my—I'm betrayed. I can't believe you went to her when I'm the one who went out to buy chocolates and cookies for you," He uttered walking towards their kitchen. He placed the basket on the highland before walking back to the living room.

"So, what are your questions?" He said as he sat down on the sofa. I glanced at him and then at the little girl that was holding me tightly. "Don't worry about my daughter, she knows everything."