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He Played God to My Daughter, I Gave Him Hell Novel Cover

He Played God to My Daughter, I Gave Him Hell

After six years of isolation in a highly classified facility, a mother returns home to surprise her husband, President Armitage. Instead of a happy reunion, she witnesses his arrogant assistant physically abusing and humiliating their young daughter. Driven by maternal fury, she strikes back, only for her terrified child to beg her to flee. The assistant claims the billionaire president is the untouchable "sky" of Baton Rouge, but this mother is ready to tear his entire world down.
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Chapter 5

Cicely’s POV

I stroked my daughter’s hair, my heart breaking as I let her cry out all her pain in my arms.

Looking up, I glared at Sylvan, my hatred still all over my face.

“Sylvan, I didn’t come back for six years. You moved on and married someone else. I’m not blaming you for that,” I began.

“But what did my daughter ever do wrong? How could you treat her like this?!” I asked desperately.

His face turned stone cold under my questioning. He let out a cold snort.

“Estelle is my daughter too,” he replied. “How I treat her is none of your business. You don’t get to lecture me. Cicely, now that you’re back, let’s just get the divorce papers signed once and for all.”

The crowd watching around us immediately erupted into chatter.

“Wait, that woman’s President Armitage’s wife?”

“Wife, my ass. That’s ancient history. Everyone knows he’s already married to the Lamonts’ daughter. They even have a kid.”

“With how much Mitzi’s obsessed with President Armitage, if this woman falls into her hands, she might as well be dead. She’ll wish she were.”

Ignoring the hushed gossip around me, I took a deep breath.

I looked Sylvan dead in the eye, replying, “Fine. But I have two conditions.”

“What, you think just because Sir Sylvan built a huge company, you can show up and ask for anything now?”

Before Sylvan could say anything, his damn assistant jumped in again.

“My advice? Drop the act. Don’t choke on your own greed.”

I shot her a cold glance, then turned back staring at Sylvan.

“First,” I continued, “I want the prenup gift my mom gave you returned.”

“You mean that worthless pendant?” he shot back. He frowned, digging into his bag and pulling out a black opal pendant.

The moment I saw it, my eyes trembled slightly.

It was the one my mom personally hung around his neck on her deathbed—entrusting us to stay together and take care of each other.

For a second, a flicker of emotion passed through his eyes as he looked at it. But then, with a small nod, he tossed it at my feet casually.

I quickly bent down, picked it up, and carefully wiped the dust off it.

“What’s the other condition? Tell me already,” he asked impatiently.

“I want custody of Estelle,” I answered firmly.

“No way. Estelle is my daughter,” he refused instantly.

“You still have the nerve to say she’s your daughter, huh?” I clapped back.

I was shaking with rage, my voice rising uncontrollably.

“If you really saw her as your daughter, would you just stand there and watch while she was forced to kneel to your assistant and that bastard of yours?”

His face turned completely stormy. In the next second, he struck me across the face, the force so loud and unmistakable to the crowd’s ears.

“Bastard? That’s my son you’re talking about!” he snapped. “Don’t be disgusting, Cicely. Sign the damn divorce papers while I’m still being polite. If you don’t, I’ve got a hundred ways in this capital to make you fucking sign it.”

“Dad, please don’t hit Mom!” Estelle interrupted. “I-I won’t go with her anymore…”

My daughter dropped to her knees, pleading.

I quickly pulled her into my arms, enunciating, “Sweetie, listen to me. From now on, he’s not your father anymore.”

“A man like him doesn’t deserve your respect, much less your kneeling!” I added.

That slap from Sylvan—it ended whatever little thread of affection still existed between us.

From this point on, he couldn’t blame me for burning bridges!

“Dear, you think you deserve more than President Armitage?”

Sage sneered and looked me up and down before she continued.

“President Armitage raised Estelle. You? Look at you—you can barely take care of yourself. How are you going to raise his daughter?”

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