Call The Police For An Egg

That evening, after I returned home, my father cooked an entire table of food for me.

But just as I picked up my fork, my phone rang.

“Vanessa, you’ve really grown some nerve, haven’t you? Running away from home now?”

Adrian’s roar made my ear ache.

“Get back here and make dinner. Evan is hungry.

“You think I’m going to coax you just because you’re throwing a tantrum? Don’t push your luck.”

My father heard him and snatched the phone from my hand, furious.

“Adrian, do you have any idea who you’re talking to?

“Apologize to my daughter right now and fire that woman, or I’ll bankrupt Cole Group within three days. Try me.”

Adrian went quiet for two seconds, then sneered.

“Playing rich now? Vanessa, did you hire some actor to scare me?

“You want more money, don’t you? Fine. I’ll raise your monthly allowance to eight hundred dollars. That should be enough.

“Now get back here, take care of the kid, and stop getting in the way of my work.”

Eight hundred dollars.

Listening to his self-righteous tone, I almost laughed.

Sophie could casually post a diamond necklace Adrian had flown to Switzerland to bid on.

But when the rice cooker at home broke and I wanted to buy an ordinary replacement for three hundred dollars, he frowned and told me the old one could still be fixed.

Whenever I argued, he blamed me.

“Stop comparing yourself to her. Sophie helps me close deals. You just sit at home and eat for free.”

I leaned toward the phone and said coldly, “Adrian, eight hundred dollars is exactly what you’re worth.”

Then I hung up before he could start yelling again.

My father stroked my hair to comfort me, and my eyes instantly burned. All the grievances I had swallowed for years finally spilled out.

After I told him, piece by piece, what I had endured over the past decade, his face darkened with rage. He picked up his phone and called his secretary.

“Notify every supplier, upstream and downstream. Anyone who works with Adrian Cole is making an enemy of Sterling Group.”

“And especially,” my father added with a cold laugh, “that subsidiary of his preparing for IPO, J-Tech Holdings. I want it shut down immediately. Personally.”

I was still listening to him give instructions when my phone rang again.

It was Adrian.

His voice was hoarse with exhaustion and anger.

“Vanessa, who the hell was that actor pretending to be your father? Why was J-Tech’s listing application rejected?”

I gave a faint laugh, didn’t answer, and blocked him.

So my father worked fast.

Good.

That saved me the trouble.

That same day, my father hired the city’s top divorce attorney and sent Adrian the divorce papers.

Since coming home, I no longer had to get up at four every morning to make breakfast for Adrian and Evan. I no longer had to clean until my back ached, or bargain over a few dollars’ worth of groceries.

Over the next two weeks, Adrian changed numbers again and again to call and text me.

I blocked every one.

One day, my father took me shopping, and we ran into Adrian, Sophie, and Evan.

Evan trailed behind Sophie in tiny steps, all ten fingers hooked through four or five luxury shopping bags.

He said carefully, “Ms. Blake, I’m hungry.”

Sophie stopped at once. She turned to Adrian with tears already shining in her eyes and tugged at his sleeve.

“Adrian, I haven’t even been shopping that long. Why is Evan already acting up?

“Did I do something wrong? Is that why he’s trying to make things difficult for me?”

Adrian was frowning at his phone. When he heard her, he glared at Evan.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? The company is about to collapse. Can you be more mature and stop causing trouble for Sophie?”