Fiona’s POV
I closed the door behind me, taking one last glance at the guest room where Samuel had slept. My heart felt heavy after last night, but there was no time to dwell on it. Samuel’s note had been brief —typical of him when he didn’t want to explain things. His presence still lingered in the air, though, and as much as I wanted to chase after answers, I had a different confrontation looming over me.
I grabbed my things and hurried out the door, trying to shake off the remnants of the strange night. My father was waiting for me, though he hadn’t said it outright. He’d be at my office, and I knew today was going to be the day we had the conversation I had been avoiding since I walked out of that restaurant.
As I drove to work, memories of that day came flooding back—how Victor, my father’s business partner, had leaned in too close, his hand resting on my knee like it was his right. The disgust I had felt, the anger simmering beneath my skin as I realized my father had sent me there knowing exactly what Victor wanted. He hadn’t cared then, and he wouldn’t care now.
The drive was a blur, my mind already running through the possible ways this confrontation could go. The truth was, there was no easy way out. My father was a man who was used to getting what he wanted, and he didn’t handle defiance well. Especially not from me.
I arrived at the office, stepping out of the car with more resolve than I actually felt. My office was quiet as usual, but the tension was already waiting for me. As I pushed open the door, my heart sank.
There he was. My father sat on my desk, legs crossed, arms folded across his chest, his eyes fixed on me with a mixture of anger and disgust. His face told me everything I needed to know—he was furious. He wasn’t going to let me off easy this time.
“Morning, Dad,” I greeted him with forced casualness. “You seem to be using this office more than I do.”
He snorted, his lips curling into a sneer. “Don’t act smart, Fiona.”
I sighed and set my bag down, bracing myself for what was coming. “I’m not acting smart, Dad. What do you call what you did the other day? Sending your unsuspecting daughter to have dinner with a pervert? You knew exactly what Victor wanted from me.”
His response was instant and mocking, his tone dripping with condescension. “Oh, don’t act like you’re so innocent now. What’s the matter? Feeling too holy all of a sudden because you’ve ‘found Jesus’?” He spat the words as if they left a foul taste in his mouth. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy the perks of your old life. Don’t play the victim here.”
My stomach churned at his words, and I had to force myself to stand tall, to not let him see how much his insults cut. “I’m not pretending anything. I’m telling you that I won’t live that way anymore. I won’t let you disrespect my faith or my decisions. Jesus saved me from that disgusting life, and I’m done with it. You don’t get to joke about it or use me like that anymore.”
His face twisted in rage, his eyes darkening with something I hadn’t seen in him before. “Faith? Faith won’t get you anywhere, Fiona. This... Jesus... won’t save you from the reality of what you are. You’re useless to me now. Useless!”
I clenched my fists, my pulse quickening. “I’m not useless. I work hard, Dad. Every contract, every project I handle—it's because of my dedication. I do good work, and you know it. Other parents wish their children were half as dedicated as I am.”
He laughed, the sound cold and sharp. “Any idiot with a degree can do what you do, Fiona. You’re not as smart or useful as you think you are.”
His words stung, but I held my ground. “I’m done letting you treat me this way. I don’t need your approval.”
He took a step closer, his face inches from mine, his breath hot with fury. “I’ve had enough of this following-Jesus nonsense. You either sit up and do as you’re told, or I’ll find ways to make sure you do. Don’t test me, Fiona.”
I lifted my chin, my voice steady even though my heart was racing. “Do your worst.”
His eyes narrowed, and for a split second, a flicker of something dark passed through them—a viciousness I’d never seen before. “You wouldn’t be able to stand it,” he hissed.
A shiver ran down my spine, but I didn’t let him see my fear. He had always been harsh, always selfish, but this was something else. This was cruelty on another level.
“You will not be useless to me, Fiona,” he added, his voice dripping with malice. “You either fall in line, or you’ll regret it.”
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. “I’m not going back to that life.”
He scoffed. “Stay away from Samuel Fox,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard. “Those fantasies you have about him? They’ll never happen. You are only useful for one thing, and you know exactly what that is.”
With that, he turned and walked out of my office, leaving me standing there, stunned. The weight of his words pressed down on me like a heavy cloak, and before I knew it, tears blurred my vision.
I wiped them away quickly, refusing to let him get to me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of proving him right. I wouldn’t let him think I was weak, or that anyone could replace me. But the sting of his words stayed with me, gnawing at my self-worth.
The day dragged on, and though I threw myself into my work, my mind kept circling back to everything my father had said. His harshness, his coldness—it wasn’t new, but today had felt different. There was something darker behind his threats, something more sinister than I’d ever experienced with him before.
By the time the afternoon sun began to fade, I was emotionally and mentally drained. I packed up my things, eager to leave the office and escape the suffocating thoughts that plagued me all day. But as I stepped outside into the dim light, I immediately felt a sense of unease.
A familiar figure stood by the entrance, waiting. My heart sank. It was an ex-client of mine—a man my father had once sent me to, offering me up as part of some twisted business deal. The mere sight of him made my skin crawl.
“Fiona,” he called out, his voice oozing with shamelessness.
I ignored him and walked quickly toward the parking lot, hoping he’d leave me alone. But he didn’t. His footsteps quickened behind me, and before I knew it, he was beside me, his breath hot on my neck.
“Don’t be like that,” he sneered. “We had fun once, didn’t we?”
I didn’t answer. My heart was pounding in my chest, my skin prickling with unease. I just needed to get to my car and get out of here. But he wasn’t giving up.
“You’re looking good, Fiona. Really good. Why don’t we go somewhere... private? Just like old times.” Victor suggested
I felt sick. “Leave me alone,” I snapped, reaching for my car door. But before I could open it, he grabbed my arm, pulling me closer.
“Come on,” he whispered, his grip tightening. “You know you want to.”
My stomach churned with fear and disgust. I struggled against him, trying to free myself, but he was stronger. Panic surged through me, and I managed to twist out of his grip, bolting toward the street without a second thought. I heard him shout after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
I ran blindly, my heart pounding in my ears, my legs burning as I crossed the street without looking. Cars honked, people stared, but all I could think about was getting away. I didn’t care where I was going—I just needed to get away from him, from everything.
As I reached the other side of the street, I heard a loud honk behind me. I turned just in time to see a truck barreling toward me, the headlights blinding in the dusk. My legs locked, and I froze, unable to move, unable to think. The world seemed to slow down, and in that split second, all I could think was,
*This is it. Finally, some rest.*
The truck’s horn blared again, and then everything went black.
YOU ARE READING
My Enemy's Daughter (Edited)
RomanceTwenty-one years ago, the wife Samuel Fox had married at the young age of eighteen, with the hope of spending the rest of his life with, was murdered on "accident" with his unborn child by her jealous and deranged admirer Justice wasn't served then...