Dahlia Mercer hesitated before lifting the old but freshly washed curtain, her voice soft and nervous. "Liana… this is your dad." She then turned to the man lying on the bed and said gently, "Honey, this is our daughter—Liana."
In the dim light, Harlan Mercer lay propped against the wooden headboard, a thin blanket covering his lower body. Years of illness had left him frail and pale, but his eyes brightened the instant he saw her. "Good," he said quietly. "You're back. That's all that matters." He smiled apologetically. "Sorry I look like this. Hope I didn't scare you."
Liana's chest tightened. Without hesitation, she walked to his bedside and sat down. "Dad," she said naturally, as if the word had always belonged to her. "May I look at your leg? I've studied a bit of medicine."
The room froze. Dahlia stared. Harlan blinked. Ethan, Gideon, and Ivy—who had just returned—were stunned. "You… know medicine?" Ethan asked in disbelief. Liana didn't explain. She gently pulled aside the blanket and pressed her fingers along Harlan's thigh and knee, applying precise pressure to specific acupuncture points. Her movements were calm and practiced as she assessed muscle atrophy, blocked circulation, and nerve damage. Her brows knit slightly.
Harlan's breath hitched as faint warmth spread through his leg—something he hadn't felt in years. "I… I can feel it," he said hoarsely. "Liana, I can feel something." Dahlia gasped, tears streaming as she covered her mouth. Gideon slapped his thigh excitedly. "This is amazing! Dad, Sis—your leg's got hope now!" Ivy hurried over with warm water, eyes red. "Liana, you must be tired. Drink something."
The warmth filling the small room was something Liana had never known in her eighteen years with the Bellamys. That night, they ate dinner together. "Liana, try this," Ivy said softly, sliding a bowl toward her. "Mom made steamed egg with pork lard just for you." The dish was golden and fragrant, while Ivy herself ate only plain congee and pickles. Her clothes were faded, yet her eyes shone with genuine joy.
Ethan scratched the back of his head and handed Liana something wrapped in newspaper. "I saw this at a bookstore. They say college students use these." Inside was a brand-new fountain pen. Liana's fingers tightened—he must have skipped meals to buy it. "Thank you, big brother," she said softly. Gideon puffed out his chest. "Sis, if anyone messes with you at school, tell me. I'll deal with them." Even working temporary jobs, his loyalty burned fiercely.
Dahlia watched her children laugh around the table, tears welling again. "Our Liana's the first college student in the family," she said proudly. "Even if I have to sell everything, I'll make sure you graduate." Something long broken inside Liana began to mend. So this was family—no schemes, no conditions, just love given freely. Seraphina… do you even know what you threw away?
Her thoughts drifted to her previous life, when she had pulled the Bellamys from near bankruptcy to industry stardom. And what had they given her in return? Poison. Her gaze hardened. She stepped aside and made a call. "Boss. Effective immediately, terminate all cooperation with Bellamy Corporation."
A sharp breath came from the other end. "Yes, ma'am! Finally! We've been bleeding money to keep those parasites afloat—" Liana ended the call. Her eyes were ice. If she could lift the Bellamys up, she could crush them just as easily.
---
Meanwhile, at the Bellamy manor, Seraphina stood stiffly on the spotless marble floor, overwhelmed by the extravagance—crystal chandeliers, spiral staircases, designer rugs she'd only seen on television. "From now on, this is your home," Isadora said warmly, pride gleaming. "Those cheap clothes—throw them away." Even Victor smiled faintly. "Your room is ready."
Seraphina stepped inside and nearly fainted. A princess-style bedroom, walk-in closet, private bathroom, and wardrobes overflowing with luxury dresses. She brushed her fingers over the silk, vanity blooming as the Mercers' cramped home flashed through her mind. Disgust rose sharply. She would never go back. Those people were beneath her. Smiling sweetly, she said, "Thank you, Mom. Dad. I love it." They exchanged relieved glances. At least their biological daughter was obedient.
The relief didn't last. The next day, Victor's phone rang nonstop. "What? Orinthal Group cut all cooperation?" His face drained of color. Without Orinthal's resources, the Bellamy Corporation unraveled overnight—investors fled, banks pressured them, deals collapsed. Desperate, Victor finally received a single reply: "Our CEO does not do business with those who betray trust."
Victor's blood ran cold. The only thing he'd done recently was drive Liana out. A terrifying thought crept in. Impossible… right? She was just a countryside girl—yet he remembered her expression as she left. Too calm.
He looked at Seraphina, admiring her designer wardrobe, oblivious to the storm brewing. For the first time, regret stabbed his chest. Had he really driven out the one person holding everything together… for a daughter with nothing but vanity?