For a brief second, Jase went completely still.

Rena had a father?

He vaguely recalled that back when they first got married, Rena had casually mentioned her father was in a foreign country, somewhere remote and difficult to reach.

Yet over the past five years, her father had never shown his face, never called, and never sent a single message.

In Jase's eyes, during those same five years, Rena's world had seemed to revolve entirely around him, to the point that he had all but forgotten she even had family of her own.

So the father who had been nowhere to be found was showing up now?

In an instant, Jase pictured a shabby, calculating middle-aged man with greedy eyes and the worn-out look of someone who had hit rock bottom.

What kind of respectable father would dump his own daughter in another household for five years and never once check on her?

More likely, her father had somehow learned that he was now the billionaire president of Bailey Group and had come sniffing around for a piece of the fortune.

Nothing disgusted him more than opportunists who tried to cling to him for status and money.

Yet the chill in Rena's eyes was so sharp and distant that, for some reason, his heart gave a sudden, uneasy jolt.

Following a short pause, Jase offered a reluctant, rigid nod. "Fine. Tomorrow at three in the afternoon. I'll come get you."

Without giving him a second look, Rena turned on her heel and walked away.

By the following day, at 3:05 p.m., Rena was standing alone on the street corner, her eyes fixed on the dead-silent message thread on her phone.

When 3:15 came, her phone finally lit up with an incoming call.

"Rena." A strained edge threaded through Jase's voice over the line. "I can't go pick up your father today."

"Why not?"

"Elyse just got news about a car crash. She has to get to the hospital right away and help with the emergency treatment. I'll go see your father another day. For now, you should go get him yourself, alright?"

Just then, Elyse's shaky voice drifted through from his side, fragile and tearful. "Jase, please hurry… they're still waiting for me to save them."

Without warning, the edge in his tone melted into a quiet warmth. "I got it. Please calm down."

Phone still in hand, Rena stood motionless on the crowded sidewalk as traffic roared past.

On the opposite side of the street, a black Maybach sat parked by the curb.

Near it, Jase had bent down and was carefully carrying Elyse out of his car.

Nestled against his chest, Elyse looked utterly calm, not the least bit shaken.

A car accident?

Saving lives?

The whole thing had clearly been a deliberately orchestrated act, staged to strip her bare and make her look pathetic on the one day that meant everything to her.

Silently, Rena watched the black Maybach tear down the street and disappear.

Whatever had been lodged in her chest for all these years seemed to break loose all at once.

Only a hollow ache remained, so numb and vacant that even the wind slipping through it carried no chill.

"Jase," she murmured to the dead line, her voice faint and steady, "we're done."

Without another pause, she spun around, yanked open the car door, started the engine, and drove her foot hard into the accelerator.

...

By the time she arrived at Sky Mansion, a black banner stitched with golden patterns hung over the entrance—the Shaw family emblem, one every power in Qremvale's underworld recognized on sight.

On any other day, only authorized vehicles were allowed through—everyone else was turned away without question.

This time, though, the guards took one look at her license plate and let the vehicle roll past without so much as a word, as if they had seen nothing at all.

With a steady motion, the car door swung open as Rena stepped out, her presence carrying a quiet, commanding weight.

Far ahead, two rigid lines of bodyguards in black suits stood at attention on either side.

Well over a hundred men filled the space, their ranks packed tight into a wall of black that gave off a grim, ice-cold menace.

Each one of them was armed with a loaded gun.

The instant her heel touched the ground, all hundred men moved as one, bending sharply at the waist in a deep bow.

"Welcome home, Ms. Shaw!"

With a deep metallic groan, the towering iron gates slid apart on either side.

Before the vast floor-to-ceiling windows, a figure stood with his back to the crowd, still as a shadow carved from stone.

At the sound of the movement behind him, he slowly turned.

Then he advanced one measured step at a time, while the attendants at his back halted several steps away, not one of them daring to come any closer.

"You've gotten thinner." When he stopped in front of his daughter, Archie Shaw lifted a hand as though he wanted to touch her face, only for it to hover in the air, frozen, as if he was afraid she might break beneath his fingers. "Rena, I'm home!"

In that fleeting moment, the Shaw family's leader—the man who could make the entire Qremvale underworld tremble with a single word—could not hide the ache and remorse etched across his face.

At the sight of the man she hadn't seen in five long years, a sharp rush of emotion burned through Rena's nose. "Dad."

A hoarse apology slipped from Archie as he pulled her into a fierce, protective embrace. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should've come back sooner."

Little by little, the stiffness in Rena's back gave way in his arms.

For the past five years, she had nearly convinced herself she would never see her father again.

"Dad…" she murmured.

Archie cupped Rena's face in both hands. "Tell me who hurt you like this," he demanded in a low, strained voice. "Was it that man? You don't need to be scared anymore. I'm here now. Bailey Group doesn't matter. Even if I have to tear Qremvale apart piece by piece, I'll still be the one standing behind you."

A brief hesitation flickered across her face before Rena questioned him. "What about Mom?"

The motion of Archie's hand stalled midair. The sharp, lethal glint in his eyes dimmed instantly, replaced by a hollow, aching sorrow that ran far too deep.

After a quiet moment, he reached into his coat and pulled out an old photograph, its edges faintly yellowed with time, then gently pressed it into her palm.

Captured in the image were the three of them together, frozen in a happier past.

Within the photo, her mother stood in a crisp white lab coat, her expression soft and warm, a research report held neatly in her hands as she smiled with quiet pride.

"Your mother never abandoned us. Back then, when the family was tearing itself apart over power, those side branches set their sights on the genetic formula she carried because they wanted control of the family. She vanished on purpose, drawing the assassins away so they wouldn't come after us."

Rena's fingers tightened around the photograph, crumpling the edge. Only then did it make sense why Clara was gone—everything she had done was to keep them safe.

Archie's gaze sharpened, turning cold and merciless in an instant. "I didn't come back for five years because there were things I had to quietly put in order. Every piece of trash that destroyed our family has already been taken care of. This time, I'm bringing your mother home with me."

His gaze settled on Rena, heavy with fierce protectiveness. "Rena, come home with me. Our doors will always stay open for you. And anyone who dares make you suffer… they'll be wiped off the face of this world."

Silence stretched between them before Rena finally gave a slow, steady shake of her head. "Dad, I want to do this myself."

She intended to withdraw every bit of love she had misplaced over those wasted five years.

With her own hands, she would tear apart the hollow lie those five years had turned into.

Archie studied her for a moment but chose not to argue. "Go, then. Just keep this in mind—no matter what comes your way, this family stands firmly behind you."

Meanwhile, in the Bailey family's villa, Cassie Bailey, Jase's younger sister, spoke with a curled lip. "Mom, Elyse has elegance and status, and she's receiving her doctorate. Rena, on the other hand, is unbearably dull. One look at her and I don't feel like eating anymore."

Off to the side, Maggie Bailey, Jase's mother, responded, her voice cool and detached, "As far as I can tell, a woman like that belongs in the kitchen. She went to meet that pathetic father of hers today, didn't she?"

With a sweet, mocking giggle, Cassie leaned back and said, "I heard he just got back from overseas. He probably couldn't keep surviving off shady work in some godforsaken place, so now he's come slithering back to depend on his daughter."

Jase merely knit his brows, as though there were nothing at all wrong with a single word they said.

At that moment, Rena shoved the door open and walked inside.

The instant Maggie laid eyes on her, the distain on her face came through without the slightest effort to hide it.

"Well, well," she remarked, her eyes narrowing, "look who finally decided to come back. Why are you just standing there? Get to the kitchen and make dinner."

Without answering, Rena kept her face blank and headed straight for the stairs.

"Hey!" Cassie barked. "What the hell? Mom's speaking to you. Are you deaf or something? Don't give us that crap attitude! You went to see that useless father of yours, and now suddenly you've got the nerve to act tough?"

Mid-step, Rena halted and fixed Cassie with a frigid stare as she blocked the way. "Out of my way."

Caught off guard, Cassie recoiled on instinct, only to stiffen with humiliation a second later. "Are you seriously glaring at me?" she snapped. "Last I checked, this is my house. You're living off my brother, eating under our roof. So what's the problem with you cooking a meal?"

A sharp, mocking smile touched Rena's lips as her eyes drifted over the room. "Your house?"

Years ago, when they had been desperate for somewhere to live, Jase had just crawled out of the slums. She moved them directly into one of the Shaw family's estates.

Because she had wanted to spare his fragile pride, she had even lied and said the villa belonged to one of her relatives, and that they could stay there for the time being.

Beneath her breath, Rena released a low, chilling huff. "Jase, why don't you clear this up for them? Does this house belong to you or not?"

Color drained from Jase's face at once as he shot back, "Rena! What kind of bullshit are you saying?"

"Bullshit?" she echoed, staring at him as though she were looking at a man she had never truly known. "Then why can't you say it out loud?"

"Enough!" Jase growled, a dangerous warning flashing in his eyes. "Alright, I admit it. I didn't go pick up your father. That part was my fault, and I'll apologize if that's what you want. But cut it out—stop turning this into a scene. If you're exhausted, then go upstairs and get some rest."

"I'm not exhausted." Crossing the room, Rena stopped beside the coffee table, her expression cold and steady. "I just want everyone here to understand one thing clearly."

Already furious at the shift in Rena's attitude, Maggie shot to her feet so abruptly the sofa cushions jolted behind her. "This is outrageous! You nasty little bitch, how dare you speak to Jase that way? No wonder your mother ended up running off with some random stranger."

The temperature in Rena's gaze dropped to something lethal. "What did you just say?"

"Was I wrong?" Maggie fired back, planting her hands on her hips as venom dripped from every word. "People can dress it up as her disappearing all they want, but everyone knows she ran off with some man! What a shameless whore! And look at you, coming home this late. You were probably out fooling around with some man too, just like your mother."

"Shut your mouth!" With a violent crack, Rena's palm slammed down on the table, rattling every cup on the coffee table.

There was no way she would stand by and allow anyone to disrespect Clara.

That was the one boundary no one was allowed to step over!

Whoever dared cross it would be crushed for it!

For a split second, Maggie was shaken by the explosive force in her voice, but the shock quickly curdled into a sharper, more vicious rage. "Jase! Take a good look at that precious wife of yours!"

With a deep frown etched across his face, Jase demanded, "Why are you yelling at her? That's my mother you're talking to! She's older, and her health isn't good. She only said it without thinking. Did you really need to blow up over something like that? Apologize to her right now!"

Apologize? After Maggie called her mother a whore?

As Rena stared at the face she had loved for five long years, an icy ache seeped straight into her chest.

For the first time, doubt clawed through her mind, and she found herself wondering whether the man who had once nearly died to save her had ever truly been Jase at all.

With a guarded step, Rena moved back and widened the space between them. "Jase, I'm going to ask you this one last time. Do you believe my mother is the kind of woman they keep calling her? And in all these years, did it never cross your mind to help me look for her?"

Instead of answering, Jase glanced at Rena, then shifted his eyes toward Maggie and Cassie, both of them glaring in outrage.

He knew exactly what would happen if he failed to take Maggie's side. She would blow this up into an even uglier scene.

As for Rena… no matter what, she couldn't bring herself to leave him. It wouldn't take more than a handful of soft words to calm her.

Unable to meet the fire in her eyes, he lowered his gaze and kept his mouth shut.

Once again, silence fell between them.

Whenever the Bailey family trampled all over her, this was how he always answered her—with the same cowardly silence.

From Rena's throat came a low, brittle, almost mocking laugh.

So the truth had been sitting there in plain sight all along, hadn't it?

During all those years, every time she brought up looking for her mother, Jase would dodge the conversation or subtly imply she ought to give it up and stop wasting her energy.

That meant he had believed it too, deep down, that Clara really was the kind of shameless woman they accused her of being.

"Good, very good," she muttered, her voice icy and steady. "Jase, did you forget that when your company's cash flow crashed three years ago, I was the one who helped you land that first round of funding? You really thought it was luck? I swallowed my pride and begged my former mentor to introduce you to those investors! And when your mother's stomach ulcers got so bad the doctors said she needed surgery, I was the one surviving on three hours of sleep, day after day, making medicinal meals to nurse her stomach back to health?"

"That was all a long time ago and—"

Cutting him off coldly, Rena fixed Cassie with a hard stare. "And you too, Cassie! Do you actually believe the Bailey family got invited into Qremvale's elite circles because you had money? If I hadn't picked out your dresses and briefed you on everyone's tastes ahead of time, you wouldn't have even gotten a foot through the door. I poured everything I had into the Bailey family, and I treated every last one of you like you were truly my own. And how did you repay me?"

"That's enough!" Maggie shrieked, lunging at Rena with blazing eyes as she swung a hand toward her face.

"You ungrateful little brat, how dare you act like this? If we hadn't taken you in, you would've died on the streets by now! If you hadn't been around, I'd have recovered from these stomach problems years ago! I should beat you to death and be done with you!"

Her hand slashed through the air, seconds away from landing across Rena's cheek.

Rena twisted aside, but Maggie immediately snatched the kraft paper bag from her arms. "What kind of garbage are you carrying around? Hand it over."

Out slipped the family photograph, fluttering helplessly to the floor.

Without sparing it even a glance, Maggie bent down and ripped it to pieces.

"Revolting trash!" she spat. "Just like that shameless mother of yours! You should ever set foot in this house again!"

Shoving Maggie away, Rena dropped to scoop up the torn photograph, then bolted outside with trembling hands, desperate to save it.

Jase didn't have time to stop her. All he could do was watch as Rena tore free of his grasp and vanished from view.

Driven by impulse, Jase hurried after Rena.

"Have you lost your mind, Jase?" Cassie snapped, grabbing him before he could take another step. "You're the CEO of Bailey Group. You really think you should be chasing after her?"

His movements stalled. He stood there for a beat, eyes fixed on the dense, lightless night outside the open door. "But…"

Cassie folded her arms across her chest, her face dripping with disdain. "But what? With no money to her name, where exactly does she think she can go besides here?"

A deep frown carved into Jase's face as a flicker of uncertainty tightened his jaw.

Where else could Rena possibly go?

Everything in her life had always circled back to this house—back to him.

No friends waited for her, no circle to fall into.

By the end of it, she would come back on her own.

...

Along the coastal highway, a sedan tore through the darkness at full speed.

Cool night air poured through the half-open window, tangling Rena's long hair into wild strands that lashed across her cheeks.

Resting on the passenger seat was a photograph, once ripped apart and now carefully pieced back together.

A jagged tear split straight across Clara's soft, tender smile.

One hand stayed firm on the steering wheel while her fingertips traced the rip across the photo with aching care.

Scenes from five years earlier rose in her mind with brutal clarity, each one sharper than the last.

At the time, she had been serving with a joint task force, moving through blood and chaos to treat the injured.

Then someone inside her own family sold them out to outside enemies, and Clara's sudden disappearance had forced her to abandon her post before her mission was over.

While chasing down the faintest clues about where her mother might have gone, she was ambushed without warning.

Bleeding heavily and barely clinging to life, she saw Jase appear through the chaos and pull her out of danger.

Once she regained consciousness, he spent the rest of his money buying the medicine she needed to survive.

In that hazy moment, he leaned close and assured, "Don't be afraid. They're gone now. I'll keep you safe."

Because of those words, she had truly believed she had finally found a harbor where her battered heart could rest.

Because she owed him her life, and because she had mistaken gratitude for love, she buried her real identity and became the perfect, devoted wife, all while secretly continuing the search for Clara.

When Jase said he wanted to build a business and start a pharmaceutical company, she quietly sent him an unpublished biopharmaceutical patent she and Clara had created together under complete anonymity.

By handing over full usage rights, she had let him build everything on that foundation, while he foolishly believed it was all just a stroke of luck.

What he never realized was that the document in his hands carried the weight of years—half a lifetime of relentless research and sacrifice shared between her and Clara.

And in the end, what did it amount to?

The very man who rose on Clara's life's work had stood there without a word, watching his family rip Clara's photograph to shreds, hurling vile insults.

A hollow, bitter laugh slipped from her lips.

How absurd it all was!

For five long years, she had poured her devotion into that household, only to realize she had been tending nothing more than a house full of ungrateful parasites.

With the debt of her life finally repaid, there was nothing left tying her to them. Now, she would walk away.

But before she did, she would make sure none of them escaped unscathed.

Up ahead, the road stretched lonelier and lonelier, until a weathered sign by the roadside whipped past her window. "Private property. Trespassers will be dealt with accordingly."

After turning off the engine, Rena braced herself against the side of the car and exhaled deeply, letting some of the tension drain away.

Then a faint, pitiful sound made her head snap up.

"Meow—"

Right in the middle of the road, a tiny white kitten, filthy with mud, shivered there like a helpless ball of fur.

Just ahead, in the opposite lane, a Lincoln came tearing toward it, no more than thirty feet away.

Without thinking, she shoved off the ground and lunged forward, sweeping the kitten into her arms.

On the rough asphalt, Rena dropped to her knees, curling protectively around the trembling little creature.

When she lifted her head, damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks, and a sheen of cold sweat had already formed across her brow.

The Lincoln's gleaming black bumper halted less than an inch from her knee.

Had the driver been even half a second later, her body would have been thrown clear across the road.

Rena tightened her gaze and fought to smooth out her ragged breathing, forcing her pounding heart back under control.

When she pushed a hand against the ground and tried to rise, a fierce stab tore through her ankle, and a low grunt slipped from her lips as she dropped back down.

A severe sprain had taken hold of her ankle.

Just then, the car door swung open.

From the driver's side, a tall man stepped out.

His face stayed buried in the night at first, but as he stepped into the dim streetlight, it slowly revealed his features.

That face looked almost unfair, as though God had sculpted it with painstaking care and then cruelly thrown it into the depths of despair.

A straight, striking nose cut down the center of his face, his deep-set eyes shadowed beneath sharp bone structure, while his skin held the bloodless pallor of someone who had gone too long without sunlight.

Set beneath it all, his pale, thin lips pressed into a hard line that carried nothing but cold indifference and the exhausted contempt of a man long sick of the world.

The man came to a halt in front of her, towering over her as his shadow fell across her face.

Without a word, he abruptly extended his hand.

Rena's gaze dropped to the hand suspended before her, but she made no move to take it.

Trusting help from a stranger had never come naturally to her.

Seeing her remain still, the man drew his brows together in faint irritation.

Instead of waiting any longer, he crouched down, slid one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, then scooped her up with the kitten still tucked in her arms.

The sharp jolt that ran through Rena made her entire body go rigid. Almost immediately, she twisted in his hold and demanded, "Who are you?"

Curled against her, the kitten seemed to catch her alarm too, wriggling restlessly as it let out thin, frantic cries. "Meow, meow—"

Waylon Brooks lowered his eyes to her, his voice flat and icy as he said, "If you want to stay alive, don't move."