The grand estate stood under the evening sky, its towering walls casting long shadows over the driveway. Inside, the air was thick with tension, an invisible battle waged between two unyielding forces-father and daughter.
Rose stood in the center of the opulent living room, her blue eyes locked onto the man she once idolized. Her father, Dominic Moreau, sat in his leather chair, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He was a man of power, feared and respected in the underworld, yet at this moment, his own daughter defied him without a hint of fear.
"I'm not asking, Dad," Rose stated, voice steady despite the storm brewing within her. "Either she leaves, or I do."
Across from her, a woman with perfectly styled hair and a smug smile sat beside Dominic. The new wife. Olivia. She didn't flinch under Rose's sharp glare, merely tilting her head as if amused.
Dominic sighed, rubbing his temples. "Rose, you don't understand-"
"No, you don't understand." Her voice cut through the room like a blade. "Mom's body wasn't even cold before you brought her into this house. Less than a month, Dad! And now, you expect me to accept her like nothing happened?"
Her older brothers stood by the staircase, watching the scene unfold. Alexander and Vincent, the eldest, had seen their sister's temper before, but this was different. She wasn't just angry-she was done.
"You're being irrational," Dominic said, his tone dipping into warning territory. "This is my house, my family, and my decisions. Olivia is my wife now. You need to respect that."
Rose let out a humorless laugh. "Respect? Did you respect Mom when you replaced her like an old suit? Did you respect us when you didn't even ask how we felt about this?"
A heavy silence settled over the room. The truth in her words was undeniable, and for a brief moment, even Dominic Moreau looked uncertain. But then, as always, he steeled himself.
"I won't discuss this further," he said, finality dripping from his tone. "You're not going anywhere, Rose. You belong here."
Her jaw clenched. "No, Dad. I belong where I'm not suffocating."
She turned on her heels, her decision made. She had hoped-prayed-that her father would choose her, would at least hesitate. But the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
She walked past her brothers without a word, heading straight for the grand staircase. As she reached the top, a voice called out.
"I'm coming with you."
She turned, finding Daniel, her younger brother by a year, stepping forward. His hands were clenched, his expression fierce.
"Daniel, don't be stupid," Alexander warned.
But Daniel ignored him. "If Rose is leaving, then so am I."
A flicker of something-regret? Pain?-crossed Dominic's face. But it was gone in an instant.
"Fine," their father said coldly. "You want to leave? Then leave. But don't come crawling back when the real world chews you up."
Rose stared at him, memorizing this moment. Not out of sadness, but to remind herself why she would never return.
Without another word, she and Daniel disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind the life they were supposed to inherit.
----
I don't feel the weight of my decision until I step into my room. This place-these walls-have been my world for as long as I can remember. It's where I laughed, cried, and believed my family was unbreakable. But none of that matters now. Not when my own father chose a stranger over his daughter.
I pull out a duffel bag, shoving clothes inside with quick, forceful movements. Behind me, Daniel leans against the doorframe, watching in silence. He hasn't said much since he made his choice to leave with me, but he doesn't have to. I can see it in his face-there's no hesitation.
"Are you sure?" I ask, pausing for a moment. "You don't have to do this."
He meets my gaze, unwavering. "Yeah, I do."
I nod. He's always been stubborn, just like me.
Minutes later, we walk down the grand staircase, our bags slung over our shoulders. The air in the house feels different-colder, heavier. My brothers stand near the entrance, watching us like we're strangers. Alexander looks pissed, Vincent just looks tired, and my father? He won't even look at me.
"Last chance," Alexander mutters. "Stay."
I shake my head. "Not in a house that doesn't feel like home."
Olivia stands beside my father, the woman who was the final wedge in our family. Her face is unreadable, but I can't shake the feeling that she's won. Maybe she has.
I grip the strap of my bag tighter.
This is it.
One last breath, one last glance at the family I'm walking away from.
Then I step out the door, Daniel right beside me. The night air is crisp, almost shocking against my skin-a reminder that I'm free.
I don't look back.
Because this is my choice.
And I won't regret it.