✓ UNLIKELY MATCH | HEESEUNG

46 - Daughter Of Deceit

SENA'S POV

Father's company had never been a place I felt welcome. It's a sterile monument to his ambition, a stark reminder of everything I'm not—ruthless, ambitious, cold. Yet, here I stand, staring at the imposing glass and steel building, a feeling of fierce determination replacing the nausea that had threatened to consume me earlier. This isn't just about money, it's about reclaiming what is rightfully mine, a symbolic victory over the man who'd spent my life diminishing me.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and walk through the automatic glass doors. The sterile air conditioning and the faint scent of expensive coffee instantly transport me back to countless stolen moments spent hiding in my father's office, yearning for a scrap of his attention. This time, however, I'm not a scared child seeking approval. I'm a woman ready for a fight.

A stern-faced receptionist, her uniform as sharp as her demeanor, scrutinizes me with a withering look. Ignoring the sting of her disapproval, I flash her a smile. "I'm here to see Mr. Kang," I announce, my voice laced with a confidence that surprised even me. For some reason, the name 'Kang' tripped off my tongue with surprising ease. Perhaps because the label "Father" is too tainted, too full of years of disappointment and neglect. "Mr. Kang" feels like a shield, a way to distance myself from the man who'd never truly seen me as his daughter. The receptionist, however, doesn't seem to notice the subtle shift.

"Do you have an appointment?" She inquires, her voice clipped and efficient.

"Consider this my appointment," I counter, my smile turning into a smirk that feels more like a warning than a greeting. "Let him know Kang Sena is here to see him. He'll know why."

A flicker of something akin to fear flickers in her eyes before she masks it with a haughty expression. Picking up the phone, she dials a number with a practiced flick of her wrist. "Mr. Kang," She speaks, "your daughter, Ms. Kang Sena, is here requesting a meeting." I'm disappointed he picks up her calls faster than he ever picked up mine, but I'm not surprised, considering his abuse was always delivered in hushed tones, behind closed doors, never for the world to see.

A beat of silence follows, then a terse, "Send her in."

I follow after the receptionist as she doesn't even bother to stand. A petty satisfaction flickers within me. This wasn't the first time she'd treated me like an invisible annoyance. With a swish of her perfectly tailored skirt, she leads me towards the imposing mahogany door separating me from the heart of my enemy's domain.

I push the door open without taking any deep breaths. There is no need for false bravado anymore. "I believe I was clear when I kicked you from home." He's sitting on the couch, sipping on a coffee I'd rather it be poison. "Or are you crawling back for a piece of the pie?"

"This isn't home, Mr. Kang," I finish, walking past the receptionist who closes the door after us. Making my way to the couch across from him, I sit down, legs crossing as I shrug. "And I'm not crawling back for anything. I'm standing tall and demanding what is rightfully mine. Or are you too afraid to face the truth in the harsh light of day?" My voice echoes through the room, each word dripping with defiance and righteous anger. My father, caught off guard by my unexpected confidence, nearly chokes on his coffee.

"What truth?" He finally manages, his voice hoarse. It's a far cry from the booming pronouncements I was accustomed to. 

"The truth about who built this empire. Heeseung knows about it, doesn't he? About how you deceived people and took their livelihoods to create your so-called empire. I've seen the documents, the transactions. I know everything," My voice is unwavering, my eyes fixed on his, watching as the color drains from his face. "My mother was only one of the many victims, wasn't she? She believed in you, supported you, and what did she get in return? Lies and betrayal."

"Heeseung knows nothing," Father growls, slamming his coffee onto the table. "If not for me sponsoring him, Ferrari would have kicked him out of the team long ago. Your marriage to him is the only reason he gets to drive those cars right now. Don't fool yourself into thinking he has any loyalty to you beyond that." His voice rises, but I don't flinch. Not anymore.

I let his words hang in the air for a moment, feeling the anger and frustration build inside me like a storm. My father, as always, tries to wield his power and influence like a weapon, but I refuse to let it cut me down. "The two of us are likely to get a divorce in a matter of a few months, but let me tell you something. It's not Heeseung who needs you, it's you who needs Ferrari's support so you can keep hiding behind your veneer of success. Without Ferrari, without the prestige, what are you? Just a man who clawed his way to the top by stepping on others. You need their name to stay relevant, to keep up this charade. But the facade is crumbling, and everyone will soon see you for what you really are."

His eyes narrow into slits, and I can see the calculation happening behind them. He's a man who has always thrived on control, on having the upper hand, but now that grip is slipping. "You think you can just blackmail me into submission?" His voice is low, dangerously so. "You're making a grave mistake."

"It's not blackmail, Father, it's justice. It's giving back what you stole," I stand up, spare him one last glance and walk toward the door. "I expect you to give me back my shares of the company, along with my mother's rightful share. Otherwise, I'll make sure the world knows the truth about your ruthless tactics and the lives you've destroyed in the name of your empire."

He scoffs, his face contorted with rage. "You'll regret this, Sena. Mark my words."

"I already do. But not as much as you'll regret underestimating me." With that, I push open the door and step out into the hallway, leaving my father seething in his office. The weight of my decision hangs heavy on my shoulders, but beneath it all, there's this liberation, a feeling of finally taking control of my own life. And Gosh, do I revel in that? 

Steph is waiting for me in the car when I step outside the building and I give her a weary smile as I slide into the passenger seat. The tension of the meeting still lingers in the air around me, but I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. "How did it go?" Steph asks, her eyes full of concern as she starts the car.

"It went... as expected," I reply, my voice laced with exhaustion. "But I did what needed to be done."

She nods, understanding in her eyes. She's been my rock throughout all of this, supporting me every step of the way. I don't know what I would do without her. "Where to now?" Steph asks, glancing at me with a reassuring smile. I'm about to respond when my phone's notification interrupts me. I glance at the screen to see a message from Mother. The woman who raised me, the woman who confessed her hatred just a few days ago. 

Lee Heeseung might be in danger. Your father plans on harming him. 

The message burns into my retinas, a horrifying truth scrawled across the screen. The sentence is simple, devoid of flowery language or elaborate threats, but its weight threatens to crush me. Denial, a desperate bubble of hope, tries to inflate in my chest, but the sting of reality keeps puncturing it. My father. The man I despise the most in this world, the man I now know to be a callous deceiver, is targeting Heeseung.

Tears prick my eyes, blurring the cruel words on the screen. The woman who raised me did one thing right for the first time in her life and it's telling me that my father is planning to kill the man I love. It's telling me that I might lose him simply because I dared to stand up for myself.

The thought is unbearable, unimaginable. I cannot breathe, cannot think straight, cannot move past the paralyzing fear gripping my heart. All I can imagine is Heeseung's face, his bright smile and crinkled eyes as he crosses the finish line. A choked sob escapes my lips when I think of him having his victory. 

Victory that might be his last.