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"Annie," the older man called urgently, his gaze scanning her carefully. It wasn’t a creepy look; it felt almost as though he was examining her soul.
Anya’s heart raced. She couldn’t remember this man, but something about him seemed familiar. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and began pulling her inside the mansion, guiding her as if she were a fragile doll.
"Come, let’s go inside. You’ve been standing in the sun too long. You might get sick,” he said, his tone firm but caring.
Anya had no choice but to follow, her body moving almost mechanically as she tried to make sense of the situation. She looked around as they entered the mansion. The rooms were big and fancy. The floors were shiny and smooth, and tall windows let in lots of light. There were big, soft maroon rugs on the floor and heavy velvet curtains hanging from the windows. Beautiful paintings hung on the walls.
Everything felt grand and rich, like a king’s house.
“Miss Carter,” Suddenly, several maids appeared from the shadows, greeting her warmly.
Anya’s feet jumped in surprise. “Miss Carter?” she repeated, confusion clouding her mind. She glanced around, her heart pounding.
Charles looked at her with affection in his eyes. “You look just like your mother, Annie. Do you remember me?”
Anya stared at him for a long moment, her mind blank. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “I… I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I’ve seen you somewhere, but I don’t remember you.”
Charles’s face lit up with excitement, his eyes shining with a mix of joy and relief. “That’s enough,” he said, stepping forward and gripping her shoulders tightly. “I’m your dad.”
Anya gasped, her breath catching in her throat. “Dad?” she whispered, the word feeling foreign on her lips.
Charles nodded, his expression softening as he continued. “Yes, I’m your father.” His voice trembled slightly as he recounted the events of the past. When he finished, he placed a hand on her head gently, as if cherishing the moment. “You are my only child. You will never suffer again. You and I are family now. There will never be any more pain in your life.”
Tears welled up in Anya’s eyes as the realization hit her. She had lived without a real family for so long, not knowing what it was like to have someone who truly cared for her. But now, in this moment, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years—a sense of belonging.
“Thanks, Dad,” Anya muttered, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. The familiar warmth enveloped her, and she clung to him tightly, tears silently streaming down her face.
For so long, she had lived with the Foxes, where everything in her life was a transaction, a favor for their business. She had never known love, only duty. But now, standing in the arms of this man, she finally felt what it was like she finally had a home.
Now, after hearing that this man had spent years searching for her just to be with her, her heart shattered into a million pieces.
But then her body stiffened. ‘Carter?’
‘Is that the same Carter whose family Mrs. Kingsley was talking about?’ Her mind raced. ‘I’m the Carters’ lost daughter?’ But then she quickly shrugged the thought off. ‘No way. It can’t be that simple. It’s too much of a coincidence. How could it be?’
She pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Dad… do you know the Kingsleys? Dante Kingsley?”
Charles nodded and gently led her to sit on the couch. "Yes, in fact, you and he were so attached to each other that we all thought there might be a big wedding between you two. But then we lost you."
Her heart sank further at these words. Her memories of what Janet had done to her just hours ago, all for the same girl that Dante was supposed to marry, made her stomach turn.
The humiliation she had suffered at Janet’s hands hit her hard.
‘What an irony,’ Anya thought, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. Janet had treated her like trash, just so she could marry Charles’ daughter. ‘I hate her so much,’ the thought wouldn’t leave her mind.
Charles, noticing the sadness in her eyes, looked surprised when he saw the tears welling up. "Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. He turned to face her completely, his hand moving to rub the back of her head comfortingly. “Anya, if you don’t want to be with Dante, you don’t have to. No one is forcing you.”
Anya started sobbing harder. Back at her old home with the Foxes, it had always been clear—she would marry whoever they chose for her. Her marriage had been a constant topic of discussion, like a business deal waiting to be sealed. They’d even considered marrying her off to a divorced man in his fifties with two kids, just because it would help their business. Even before they knew she wasn’t their real daughter, they had treated her like an object.
Anya sobbed harder, unable to stop herself. “It’s not that,” she cried, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m just… sad. Because Ja—” She stopped herself, catching her breath. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the truth—how Janet had tried to hurt her. ‘I can’t ruin Dante's reputation in front of my dad.’ She thought. ‘What if dad starts to hate him too because of Janet. He’s a good man. I can’t do that to him.’
Charles, seeing the pain in her eyes, grew even more upset. The man had spent over a decade searching for her, and now that she was back in his arms, the thought that she had suffered all these years without him was enough to tear at his soul.
He could barely hold himself together. “I’m sorry, Anya,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “This is my fault. I took too long to find you.”
The moment he said that, Anya couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, her emotions spilling over. She hugged him tightly, her tears soaking his shirt as she cried harder, everything that had happened to her rushing back in a wave of raw emotion.
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