My Own Father Destroyed My Dream of Getting into Top Universit

Mom chimed in, echoing the sentiment. She rambled on about Charlotte's hard life, her grit, her success against all odds.

A dry, humorless laugh escaped my throat.

I reached into my bag, pulled out the official suspension notice, and slapped it onto the rotating glass table.

"I'm not doing so great either." My voice was steady. "The university forced me out. Since we're handing out pity—how about you spare some for me?"

Dad's gaze snapped to the paper. His finger, pointing at the bold **SUSPENDED** stamp, began to tremble. Rage flooded his face.

His palm slammed the table. He shot to his feet.

"It wasn't enough that you threw a fit and stopped coming home? Now you've *quit school*?!" Spittle flew. "Even if it isn't Yanda, it's still a top-tier university! How dare you waste it!"

"I didn't have a choice." I stayed seated. "My parents had plenty of money to host a gala for a stranger but nothing to lend me when I was drowning. I fell behind on tuition. On credits. Suspension was the only option."

I leaned forward, mocking. "I'm so pitiful, Dad. Why don't *you* help me?"

"I really don't get it." My voice dropped, quiet and dangerous. "You pour your heart and soul into an outsider, yet you're ruthless to your own flesh and blood."

"I used to think you were a man of integrity. Rigid, but fair." A sneer twisted my lips. "But after watching what you did for Charlotte Fox, I realized the truth. My father isn't noble. He's just a politician playing a game."

I had figured out his angle a long time ago.

Dad was up for full professorship next year. He'd failed the evaluation multiple times. Yanda was shark-infested waters—talent everywhere, his credentials merely average. He needed an edge. He needed *hype*.

What generated more "positive energy" than a heartwarming story? The noble professor sponsors a poor student—who then gets into the very university where he teaches.

At such a critical juncture, he couldn't afford to let *me* get into Yanda. People might whisper. They might say he pulled strings for his daughter, tainting his "impartial" reputation.

But I could have passed that entrance exam on my own merit.

In his grand scheme, he got the fame. Charlotte got the benefits.

And I?

I was the sacrificial lamb. Played like a fool.

Now suspended. Drowning in debt.

Exhaustion seeped into my bones. "If you want to avoid suspicion so badly, let's make it permanent."

My gaze hardened. "From today on, act like you don't have a daughter."