My Firefighter Father Chose Strangers,Now He Wants Me Back

I immediately looked at my father.

He lowered his head guiltily, pressing a fist to his lips and coughing twice.

"Jennifer, no matter what, Homer is your brother now. All these years, he's been the one by my side, taking care of me in your place. You're so wealthy now—would it kill you to help him out?"

The air went still.

I almost laughed from sheer disbelief. "So this whole time, all that talk about searching for me for twenty years—it was all a lie? You found out who I am now, and you deliberately got the production crew involved to orchestrate a public smear campaign and force my hand. Didn't you?"

My father stared at me, stunned. "Jennifer, I'm your biological father! How could you think that of me?!"

"After you left, I looked for you for years. What happened online was just an accident. But don't worry—Homer said he has a way to fix it. Jennifer, it's just two apartments. You're not short on cash. What's the big deal about helping your brother?"

"You're right, I'm not short on cash..."

I looked at him coldly. "But I have no obligation to raise a son for you. And stop trying to guilt-trip me with that 'daughter of a hero' nonsense."

"I stopped falling for that a long time ago."

"After all, twenty years ago—after that fire, the moment you threw me out with your own hands—my family died. Every last one of them."

My father froze completely, as if seeing me for the first time.

Just then, a piercing commotion erupted at the showroom entrance.

"The ungrateful bitch is in there!"

"Get her! For Captain Abbott!"

A mob of men and women with phones raised high broke through the security guards and charged straight at me. They carried buckets of foul-smelling red paint and hurled it at my face.

The thick, acrid liquid splattered across my body. My vision turned blood-red.

"Abandoning her own father for money! Animal!"

"Drop dead!"

Curses, shoving, fists raining down. I shielded my head and looked desperately toward my father through the chaos—he frowned, his lips moved slightly, but in the end he turned away. He even stepped back.

And Homer? He stood off to the side with his arms crossed, the corner of his mouth curled into an undisguised smirk. Enjoying the show.

Just as one man grabbed my hair and another raised a metal phone stand to bring it crashing down—

"Stop! Police!"

The sharp command cut through the noise. Several officers rushed in and forced the crowd apart.

The place was a wreck. Drenched in red, I stood in the filth, slowly raised my hand, and pointed at Homer and my father.

"I'm filing a report."

I wiped the blood and paint from my eyes and spoke to the officers, each word clear and cold as ice.

"Against both of them. Defamation, extortion, and inciting violent assault."