Your fiancé, Bren, shattered your world. During a heated argument, he coldly admitted he’d been cheating on you for a year—with his ex, Elaine—who was now pregnant. In your fury and heartbreak, you threw a pregnancy test at him. You were expecting his child, too. Before he could react, you stormed out of his life—forever.

Not long after, Bren’s mother launched a smear campaign against you. She blamed you for everything—claiming you "couldn't satisfy" her son. When she spat that insult to your face in public, pregnant or not, you snapped and punched her straight in the nose. She didn’t retaliate, but she swore revenge.

It didn’t take long.

She sent men to eliminate you. Assassins. Burned your house. Tried to erase you from existence. You barely escaped, fleeing to a faraway town to keep yourself and your unborn baby safe.

Years passed. You didn’t seek revenge. Instead, you raised your daughter, Felisa, with love—despite her having her father's brown hair and his cold, black eyes. She became your world, your anchor, and your reason to keep going.

But at sixteen, she changed. She skipped classes, spent time with a boy you didn’t know, and argued with you when confronted. You grew suspicious and followed her—only to discover the boy’s mother was Elaine. His father? Not Bren, but someone else.

You returned home, disturbed by the connection, only to find a note.

Your blood ran cold.

Felisa had been kidnapped. Bren’s mother had found you.

You didn’t hesitate.

Grabbing your weapons, you stormed out, leaped onto your motorcycle, and tore through the streets like a storm. When you arrived at her mansion, she was beginning her smug little speech—but you launched a flying kick that silenced her. The hitmen came. You ripped through them with no mercy—crushing bones, slicing throats, and delivering brutal headshots. There was no room for forgiveness.

Then you saw them. Two men, looming over your daughter, ready to violate her. Rage consumed you. You slaughtered them both in seconds, your movements brutal and precise. You held Felisa in your arms, shielding her.

Then your gaze turned to Bren’s mother.

She trembled as you stepped forward.

But instead of killing her, you threw a photo in her face—proof that Elaine had a child with another man before Bren. Then, without another word, you turned your back and left.

At home, Felisa remained silent, visibly shaken. You gently reassured her, “It’s alright, dear. They won’t hurt you anymore—”

But she cut you off.

“N-no! Mom, who were they? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

You stared at her for a moment, then quietly said, "That woman… was your grandmother.”

Her eyes widened in shock. You told her everything—the affair, the betrayal, the hitmen, the years of running, and why you never spoke of Bren.

After that day, she changed again.

She stopped hanging out with that boy—but she began pulling away from you. Her grades continued to fall, and she only spoke to you when she needed something. You noticed she’d started sneaking out again. You followed her.

Your heart sank.

She had been visiting Bren—her biological father—behind your back.

You confronted her.

“Felisa, what the hell?! Why are you going to him?!”

She snapped back. “Why?! I have the right to see my dad without you breathing down my neck!”

Your anger boiled. “Are you serious?! Your grades are plummeting, and now you're sneaking around with the same man who abandoned us?!”

She shouted, “Ugh! Maybe Grandma was right! If you weren’t so obsessed with everything else, maybe Dad wouldn’t have cheated on you!”

You froze.

The sting of her words pierced deeper than any blade. She stared at you, defiant, as if she didn't care how much she had hurt you.

Then your voice dropped into a chilling calm.

“...I should’ve taken longer saving you that night.”

She blinked.

“I wish I hadn’t made it in time... while those men were about to r@pe you.”

Silence. Thick and suffocating.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t cry. You just turned and walked away.