The mansion was still as Kimberly stepped inside, her heels echoing against the marble floor. In the living room, her father sat in his favorite armchair, newspaper in hand, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked every inch the powerful man the world knew him to be.
"Hi, Dad," Kimberly said, forcing calm into her voice as she lowered herself into the chair opposite him.
He cleared his throat, folding the newspaper with deliberate care before sliding off his glasses. Crossing one leg over the other, he spoke with the authority of a judge delivering a sentence.
"The reason I called you so early this morning," he began, "is to inform you that we'll be having dinner tonight with Kelvin and his father. We need to discuss your wedding."
Kimberly blinked. "Wedding?"
"Yes. Your wedding."
For a moment, she thought she misheard him. Then laughter bubbled out, sharp and bitter. "Really, Dad? Wow. Are you joking right now? Because this joke isn't funny."
"It's not a joke, my dear. That's why I wanted to tell you early, so you can prepare yourself."
Her jaw fell open. "Dad, do you even know what happened to me last night? Did you know what Kelvin did? And the next thing you think about is a wedding? Are you serious?"
"I know what happened. Kelvin was drunk. It was all a mistake—he promised it won't happen again."
Kimberly's chest heaved with rage. "That was reason enough to end this stupid marriage talk! Do you even see me as your daughter anymore?"
His eyes hardened. "You will not come in here and speak to me in that manner, young lady."
"For goodness' sake, Dad, I'm your only family! Your only surviving family! And you're doing this to me? This is evil."
"How dare you speak to your father that way!" His voice thundered, shaking the walls.
"Exactly, you're my father—and I am your daughter. Kelvin is not the one for me! I wish Mom were here because, honestly, I'm starting to doubt you're even my father."
The crack of his palm across her cheek silenced the room. Kimberly staggered, tears springing to her eyes.
"Watch your mouth," he growled. "Do not bring your late mother into this. I know what's best for you and this family. Kelvin is the right man. That's final."
"No, Dad. You don't know what's best for me. You only care about yourself—your selfish desires, your power. I've never once made a decision for myself, and it's choking me!" Her voice cracked as she bolted to her feet. Tears streamed freely as she stormed out.
Her father called her name, but she didn't stop. She flung the doors open and ran until she saw him—Roy. He was standing near the car, tall, calm, unshaken. Without thinking, she rushed into his arms, sobbing against his chest.
Roy stiffened, stunned by her vulnerability, but then his arms wrapped around her gently, solidly. His hand patted her back.
"Please… take me out of here," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his tone careful.
"Just… take me out. Please."
He didn't ask again. Within minutes, they were driving, leaving the suffocating mansion behind.
They ended up at a quiet amusement park, the kind that smelled of popcorn and distant laughter. Kimberly sat at a shaded patio, her expression blank. Roy handed her a chilled cup of iced tea before sitting beside her.
"Thank you," she said faintly, sipping. The coolness washed down her throat, easing her shaken nerves.
"You're lucky, Roy."
He looked at her, puzzled. "How do you mean, ma'am?"
"First of all, can you drop that 'ma'am' crap? Call me Kimberly. Or… Kim."
"Alright, Kimberly," he replied evenly.
She sighed. "I wish I was a free bird. I hate this life, Roy. A life where you can't decide for yourself. A life where you feel… helpless."
"Many people dream of living your life," he said gently.
"This life is hard," she whispered. "It's like wearing shoes that cut into your skin, and you can't take them off. Since I lost Mom and my sister, Dad became someone else. Overprotective. Controlling. Now he wants me to marry Kelvin. I feel trapped."
Roy's jaw clenched. "If you don't love him, then don't marry him."
Kimberly smiled faintly, though her eyes glistened. "You won't understand." She straightened. "Let's leave my mess aside. Tell me about you, Roy."
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
He leaned back, his eyes clouding. "I lost my parents in a car accident. We were driving back from this very park when a trailer hit my father's car. The car flew… then crashed. I don't even know how I survived." His voice grew colder, tinged with something like hatred.
Kimberly's eyes welled up. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Roy. I'm so sorry you went through that alone."
Her warmth softened his rigid expression. For a fleeting moment, he let himself hold her before she pulled back, wiping her tears.
"When I was little, I came here often with Mom and Aria," Kimberly said. "One day, Dad got a strange call while we were here. We rushed home, only to find the house on fire. Mom and Aria didn't survive. Later, Dad got another call—it said the fire wasn't an accident. It was murder. He stormed out that night like he was going to kill someone, and when he came back, he looked… terrified."
Roy froze, her words slicing deeper than she knew. His fists clenched, his gaze burning as thoughts raced in his mind.
He went to kill my family, he thought darkly. His grip tightened unconsciously on Kimberly's wrist.
"Roy, are you okay?" she asked, startled, pulling her hand free.
He blinked, forcing a calm mask back onto his face. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm sorry."
"You sure? You looked… angry."
"I'm okay." His voice was low, almost too low. "I just need a moment." He stood abruptly. "I'll be back."
In the restroom, Roy stared at his reflection in the mirror. His breathing grew ragged. With a guttural yell, he smashed his fist into the glass. Shards splintered, slicing his knuckles. Blood dripped, bright against porcelain.
He stared at the crimson streaks, chest heaving, then smirked bitterly before sliding down to the tiled floor. His clenched jaw trembled, the weight of vengeance heavy in his eyes.