“I protected what belongs to me,” I said calmly.
“Undo it.”
“No.”
“You think you can destroy me?”
“My mother built everything,” I replied softly. “You just tried to steal it.”
“Dad, I can’t access anything,” Adrian said, his voice shaking.
“What is happening?” Celia whispered.
My father finally understood. Too late.
The police arrived minutes later, stepping into the house beneath my mother’s portrait. They put him in handcuffs while he shouted, while Celia screamed, while Adrian stood frozen. In less than twenty-four hours, he lost everything.
Six months later, I walked through my company again—strong, steady, untouchable.
“Please, Elena. I’m still your father,” his message read.
I stared at it for a moment, then deleted it.
I didn’t need revenge anymore.
I had already taken everything.
