Done Being Nice After Three Years Raising Her Love Child

Sunshine Orphanage was bustling with activity that day. Colorful banners had been put up all around the compound.

Giselle, Vincent, and Connor were attending the charity drive as a perfect example of a loving family. They were getting ready to be interviewed by the local news.

I avoided the entrance and slipped into the compound by scaling the iron fence in the backyard.

The backyard was dark and damp. There was also a musty smell permeating the air.

I spotted a young girl, who looked around three years old, huddling near the staircase in the corner. She was wearing old, tattered clothes, and she shivered whenever a cold breeze blew past.

The young girl was clutching a cold, hardened sweet roll in a death grip. Bruises and scratches littered the exposed skin of her arms.

Her body was shaking from the cold as she looked up at me. Her eyes and features were the spitting image of mine when I was a child.

I felt my limbs go weak.

Just then, I received another message from the private investigator. "I managed to secure a photo of the orphanage's acceptance form from that year. Giselle was the one who signed it. The girl's name is Quinn Sawyer."

I looked between the indisputable evidence on the screen and my biological daughter, who was covered in wounds.

Quinn was practically skin and bones.

I curled my hands into tight fists.

The sounds of thunderous applause echoed from the front of the compound.

Giselle and Vincent were having their photos taken under the spotlight. Connor was dressed in a suit, holding up an imported chocolate bar.

Meanwhile, a fat caretaker grabbed Quinn by her hair and roughly dragged her away toward a dark shed.

"We have important guests here today. A money-sucking leech like you needs to make yourself scarce. Don't wander around and be an eyesore for everyone."

I lunged at the caretaker and aimed a powerful kick at him. I then pulled Quinn into my embrace.

Quinn was trembling violently. She subconsciously covered her head with her arms and mumbled, "Don't beat me… I'll be good…"

I hugged Quinn even more tightly. Picking her up, I rushed toward the stage that had been set up at the front of the orphanage with reddened eyes.

I brandished my phone in Giselle's face, showing her the photo of the acceptance form.

"You're nothing more than a beast, Giselle!" I exclaimed. "You abandoned our daughter at an orphanage and allowed her to be abused just because of your lover and your bastard son."

Chaos erupted among the crowd.

The media outlets immediately pointed their cameras at us.

The color drained from Giselle's face. She frantically used her hands to block the cameras as she tried to explain herself. "Let me explain, Hayden. Mom wanted a grandson. I had no other choice."

The director of the orphanage swiftly stepped forward to protect Giselle. He pointed an accusatory finger at me and shouted, "Where are the security guards? Take this man away right now! Nobody wants the little bastard anyway. He's just spouting nonsense!"

A few security guards rushed onto the stage and twisted my arms behind my back.

Vincent bit his lip as he considered how to maintain his image of a good younger brother. He rushed forward and grabbed a fistful of Quinn's clothes.

"What nonsense are you spouting? Where did you come from, you little brat? Get rid of her right now."

"Get your hands off my daughter!"

I struggled wildly, but I couldn't break free from the security guards' hold and remained pinned on the ground.

Taking advantage of the chaos and my immobilized state, Vincent shoved Quinn off the stage.

"Time to die, little bastard."

Quinn fell off the stage. With a loud thud, the back of her head hit the corner of the concrete flowerbed next to the stage.

Fresh blood began to flow from the back of her head, turning the puddles on the ground red.

Quinn weakly opened her eyes and looked at me. "It hurts… Daddy…" she mumbled.

Her little hand fell limply next to her side as her eyes fluttered shut.

Giselle's legs turned to jelly at the gruesome sight, making her fall to her knees.

Vincent scoffed. "So what if she dies? I'll just pay the compensation fee."

The camera flashes were going off endlessly, but no one stepped forward to save Quinn.

I struggled to crawl toward Quinn, spitting out a mouthful of fresh blood.

"Someone, save Quinn!"