Leave Our Daughter

The metallic clink of the rose gold card settling on the table did nothing to silence the room. Miriam stared at the gleaming surface for a split second before a harsh, mocking laugh ripped from her throat.

"Who exactly are you trying to bluff?" she sneered, jabbing a manicured finger toward the small coffee table. "We've investigated your background top to bottom. If you truly have a hundred million sitting in some bank account, would you be kicked out into the streets just for being unable to afford a pathetic three hundred thousand for a betrothal gift?"

Kaelen kept his posture relaxed, refusing to match her hostility. He looked at the plastic cards next to his metal one.

"I know all about black cards," Miriam continued, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. "Those are requested by the richest, elite families. But rose gold? I bet you bought that cheap scam online just to save face. It’s nothing but a joke."

Kaelen let out a quiet breath, patiently and calmly explaining his position. "My rose gold card is an exclusive, limited edition distributed directly by the international bank. There are precisely ninety-nine of these exact cards in the whole world. They aren't handed out to anyone with a heavy wallet; they are placed in the hands of royalties and global leaders. It’s a symbol of status."

Gareth let out a barking scoff. He stepped forward, pulled a half-smoked cigarette from his lips, and threw it onto the floor. He stomped on it with the heel of his leather shoe, grinding the tobacco into the floorboards as if he were crushing Kaelen himself.

"What a load of nonsense!" Gareth spat, his face reddening with anger. "A profound symbol of ultimate identity? Only possessed by royalties? Tell us then, you wild brat. Which country's prestigious prince are you exactly?"

Kaelen narrowed his eyes. Explaining the complexities of his hidden empire to them was a massive waste of breath. He considered making a quick phone call to Dorian, ordering his subordinates to deliver a million in hard cash to the apartment. Piling stacks of bills on the floor would tangibly prove his status and permanently shut their mouths.

Just as Kaelen reached into his pocket for his phone, the sharp click of the front door unlocking broke the heavy standoff. Elena pushed the door open and hurried inside, her chest heaving slightly as she took in the tense scene.

"Dad? Mom? Why are you both here?" she asked, her wide eyes darting between the glaring older couple and Kaelen. The suffocating tension in the living room was palpable, hanging over them like a dark storm cloud.

Realizing her parents were on the verge of exploding, Elena quickly stepped in. She moved right in front of Kaelen to shield him from their hostility. A deep, noticeable red flush crept up her neck and coated her cheeks in profound embarrassment.

"Mom, Kaelen and I are genuinely in love with each other," Elena pleaded, her voice trembling but resolute. "He's honest and treats me well. Please stop this. Don't listen to the rumors outside."

Miriam didn't buy a single word of the romantic defense. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She lunged forward, grabbed her daughter's arm in a vice-like grip, and dragged her straight into the bedroom.

"Mom! What are you doing?" Elena protested, stumbling as she was yanked down the short hallway.

Miriam didn't answer until she had shoved Elena into the bedroom and slammed the wooden door shut, cutting off Kaelen and Gareth. She spun around, cornering her daughter.

"Lena, tell me the truth right now," Miriam demanded, her tone blunt and merciless. "Are you secretly pregnant with his child?"

Elena’s jaw dropped. The sheer absurdity of the question hit her like a physical blow. Her face burned hot as fire.

"Mom, a-am I truly that kind of irresponsible person to you?" she stuttered wildly, her mind racing. She quickly turned her head away, unable to meet her mother's piercing gaze. She needed a quiet moment to mentally prepare herself for such an awkward and baseless conversation.

But seeing her usually composed, articulate daughter suddenly stutter and avoid eye contact sent a shockwave through Miriam. She misinterpreted the brief hesitation. The wild family rumors had to be true. Elena had foolishly ruined her prestigious chances with a wealthy household like the Blakelys simply because she was already carrying a beggar's child.

"This is awful! My god, this is awful!" Miriam groaned. She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she gave up her fierce resistance. The damage was irreversibly done.

Without another word to her bewildered daughter, Miriam marched back into the living room. She ignored the three bank cards resting on the polished surface of the coffee table and stomped right up to Kaelen, invading his personal space.

Raising a shaking finger, she pointed it directly at his face, warning him menacingly. "Brat, if I ever see you hurting my Lena in the slightest, my husband and I won't let you off the hook. We will destroy you even if we have to sacrifice our own lives to do it. Do you hear me? Hubby, let's go!"

Before Kaelen could even open his mouth to process the sudden, jarring shift from mockery to lethal, protective warning, Miriam spun on her heel. She grabbed a bewildered Gareth by the collar of his jacket, ignoring his protests, and dragged him straight out the front door. The heavy door slammed shut behind them with a resounding thud, rattling the frames on the wall.

A few moments later, Elena finally gathered her composure. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bedroom, ready to face the harsh interrogation. Instead, she found the living room silent and empty, save for Kaelen standing near the couch.

"Where are my parents?" she asked, blinking in confusion as she looked around the vacant space.

Kaelen shoved his hands into his pockets, noting her mother’s rapid departure. He was curious about her effective method. "They left. What exactly did you tell your mom? She came out, gave me a stern warning, and just took your dad away. Oh, and they didn't even take their bank cards back either."

Elena’s eyes widened in horror as the realization struck her. "Oh no! Did she miscomprehend my words?" she shrieked, panic washing over her pale face.

She dashed to the coffee table and hastily snatched up all three bank cards, her fingers trembling against the smooth plastic and cold metal. Kaelen clearly saw her swipe his precious rose gold subaccount card—which held a staggering hundred million—along with her parents' meager savings. He stepped forward but deliberately decided against stopping her. He watched her frantically gather the items, figuring her hardworking, distressed parents deserved the massive financial windfall anyway. Let them have it, he thought. Without a second glance back at him, Elena threw the door open and dashed frantically outside.

Downstairs in the dimly lit parking lot, Gareth ripped his collar out of his wife's grasp. He was deeply upset and confused. "Miriam, what the hell is wrong with you? Why did you suddenly approve of that terrible relationship?"

Miriam stopped beside their modest sedan. "Our daughter is pregnant. What else can we possibly do besides agreeing?" she uttered helplessly, tears of frustration welling in her tired eyes.

Gareth froze, the heavy words sinking in. Fury ignited in his chest. This shameful act had irreparably ruined their one golden chance to connect with the distinguished Blakely family. The Blakelys would never accept a woman carrying another man's child.

"She did what?!" Gareth roared. "I'm going right back up there to teach her a lesson!" He turned on his heel, ready to march right back upstairs and physically punish Elena.

Miriam's sorrowful expression vanished, instantly turning ice-cold. She stepped in his path, blocking him. "Hold up! She got her impulsive nature directly from you. If only I were more cold-hearted and rejected you back then, I wouldn't be living such a tough, miserable life as I do right now."

Chastised by the sharp, painful reminder of their own controversial past, Gareth’s anger deflated. He meekly lowered his head in defeat, the fight draining out of him. He gently pulled Miriam toward the passenger door, helped her inside, and got behind the wheel. The engine sputtered to life, and he quickly drove away from the residential complex.

By the time a breathless Elena finally reached the ground floor lobby, bursting through the heavy glass doors into the cool night air, the red taillights of their sedan were already disappearing down the dark street. They were long gone, swallowed by the city traffic. Clutching the three bank cards tightly against her chest, she gritted her teeth. She immediately turned and rushed toward the concrete ramp of the underground parking garage, determined to get her own car and give desperate chase.