𝘚𝘬𝘺𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 ― 𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘺 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘬𝘦¹

𝟎𝟎, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

My whole life, I've been considered the perfect daughter of Marcus Kane. The truth is, I'm not his daughter. Never was, never will be. My mother married Kane when I was six. My real father was the worst.

Growing up, I felt like an imposter in my own home. Every smile and every achievement felt like a facade, a carefully constructed illusion to conceal the truth lurking beneath the surface. Marcus Kane, with his unwavering expectations and towering presence, seemed to embody everything I was supposed to be. But deep down, I knew I didn't belong.

My real father was a shadowy figure, a specter haunting the edges of my consciousness with his absence. He was the worst kind of man—cruel, indifferent, consumed by his demons. His memory lingered like a stain on my soul, a reminder of the darkness that had once engulfed my life.

When my mother married Marcus Kane, I hoped for a fresh start, a chance to escape the shadows of my past. But the truth can unravel even the most carefully crafted illusions. As I grew older, the weight of my secret burdened me, threatening to tear apart the fragile facade of normalcy we had built.

I longed to break free from the shackles of deception, to embrace the truth and all its complexities. But the fear of rejection, of being cast out into the cold embrace of uncertainty, held me back.

Now, as I stand on the precipice of revelation, I find myself torn between the comfort of lies and the uncertainty of truth. Marcus Kane, with his steadfast love and unwavering support, deserves to know the truth. And yet, the thought of shattering the fragile illusion of family we have built fills me with dread.

But secrets can fester in the darkness, poisoning the very fabric of our existence. And so, I steel myself for the inevitable reckoning, knowing that the path to redemption lies in embracing the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

In the end, I am more than the sum of my secrets. I am Reyna, daughter of truth and bearer of light, destined to rise above the shadows and embrace the fullness of my identity, no matter where the journey may lead.

I thought that being his daughter would make me feel safe. After all, Marcus Kane was a pillar of strength, a beacon of authority in our tumultuous world. But behind closed doors, the truth was far more sinister.

My real father was a man of contradictions—aggressive yet protective, imposing yet fragile. He taught me how to fight, instilling in me a sense of self-reliance that bordered on defiance. But his lessons came at a cost.

Every mistake, every misstep was met with punishment. His anger, a volatile force that loomed over our household like a dark cloud, left me trembling in its wake. I learned to tiptoe around his moods, to anticipate his outbursts like a sailor navigating treacherous waters.

But no amount of preparation could shield me from the sting of his hand, the sharpness of his words. I became a prisoner in my own home, trapped in a cycle of fear and uncertainty that threatened to consume me whole.