Her Daddy Issues

I watched the sports car disappear down the road and let out a soft scoff.

Joyce probably had no idea that even her real father had to lower his head with respect when faced with mine.

My family had always been low-profile, and I'd spent most of my life studying abroad. I hadn't made a habit of wearing expensive clothing, so clearly she thought I was an easy bone to pick.

That idiot probably thought I was some expendable pawn my family had sent to hers in a desperate cling to power.

Fine. Since she obviously had some unaddressed daddy issues, I'd discipline her properly!

The very next day, I drove straight to her villa. Only the housekeeper was there, saying that Joyce was still in bed.

I pushed open the master bedroom door, and was greeted by the thick stench of alcohol. Inside, Joyce lay sprawled over the bedroom, while a man laid beside her.

It was Lucius, one of his hands wrapped in bandages.

He was wearing nothing but boxers, stretched out casually next to Joyce, scrolling on his phone.

When he saw me, he wasn’t flustered in the slightest. Instead, he deliberately draped one leg over Joyce’s body.

"Woah, if it isn't the violent maniac? Joyce already told me that I can live in this house as long as I want, and throw anything that belongs to you away!

"I'm her daddy after all, so it's only natural I take care of my daughter."

I nodded calmly and walked to the bedside.

Then I yanked the blanket away.

The morning chill jolted Joyce awake. She blinked groggily, then exploded the moment she saw me. "What's wrong with you? Who let you in here?!"

Instead, I pulled out my phone and snapped several rapid-fire photos of the two half-dressed figures on the bed.

Then I opened a group chat. It was a group chat filled with Joyce's rich, trashy friends, one she pulled me into just to humiliate me.

Then, I sent the pictures.

[I came to see my girlfriend early this morning, and I found a thief in the house! Joyce, your dad's not very proper, is he? Why is he sleeping in the same bed as you? Wait… are you into incest, perhaps?]

The group chat exploded. All the people who'd been waiting to see me make a fool of myself ended up becoming enthusiastic spectators.

[Damn, that's wild! Joyce really knows how to play 'em, huh?]

[Hey, so that "we're just good friends" shtick they did was just so they could climb onto each others' beds easily, huh?]

Joyce's phone started ringing nonstep. She grabbed it, glanced at the screen, and her face turned red with anger.

"Henry! Delete those messages right now!"

She screeched, jumping off the bed and trying to snatch my phone away from me.

I nimbly evaded her, reaching for a golf club nearby, something Joyce kept around just to look classy, no doubt.

Crash!

I smashed the club straight at the floor lamp beside us, shattering the glass instantly.

The deafening crash made both Joyce and Lucius flinch.

I held the club loosely in one hand, weighing it as I smiled without warmth.

"Why should I? I'm just a fiancé, concerned for your private matters. I mean, he's not really your father, sure, but if you do this while acting like father and daughter outside, what's going to happen to the Foster family's reputation?"

Lucius's face went pale. "What nonsense are you spouting? We're completely innocent! This is just brotherly affection!"

I hooked the club under a piece of lace underwear on the floor and lifted it slightly. "Brotherly affection, huh?"

Joyce gritted her teeth. "You're crossing the line, Henry! He and I are clean! His hand was injured last night, so he just needed someone to take care of him!"

"Oh," I said mildly. "Take care of him, huh?"

I nodded.

"Fine, if that's the case, then you should behave like a proper caretaker."

I pointed the club at Lucius.

"Get dressed, and get out."

As I spoke, I casually swung the club once.

Lucius yelped in fear. Forgetting about his injured hand, he scrambled into the bathroom to change.

Joyce was trembling with rage.

"You scumbag! I'm calling off the engagement!"

I stepped toward her, pressing the golf club against her shoulder and forcing her back onto the bed.

"That's not your decision to make," I said calmly. "It's for your father to decide. And besides…"

I leaned down, locking eyes with her.

"Until I get bored, you'd better be good. If not, well… who knows what my golf club's going to hit next?"