I had been buried in a classified project deep in the mountains, completely cut off from the world for three years.

The moment it ended, the very first thing I did was call my daughter, it was her birthday today and I wanted to wish her in person.

I called her again and again, but no one answered. I didn’t think much of it. I figured she was just busy celebrating, too caught up in the joy to pick up.

But a while later, she sent me a video. In it, she was tied up and forced to kneel on the ground.

Buckets of ice water were poured over her.

Shivering, she whispered, “Stop, it’s so cold.”

Her teeth chattered, her body trembling.

But the torture didn’t stop.

“Dad… save me, Dad… where are you?”

Her voice was faint, slurred, filled with pain.

As I listened, I felt my entire body collapse into pieces.

“Calling for your dad? Isn’t he right in front of you?”

A mocking voice cut through; it was a voice I knew all too well.

How could the one tormenting my daughter be him?

——

The video cut off. When I called again, the line was instantly rejected.

Without hesitation, I dialed my wife, Alice Ferrari.

“Hey, your project’s done?” Alice forced a strained smile.

I didn’t have time for her pretenses. “Where is my daughter?” I demanded.

Three years ago, I had entrusted our home to Alice, asking her to take care of our daughter. And this was her idea of care? Letting her suffer like that?

Alice stammered, “She should be at school.”

I snapped, “So you forgot today is her birthday?”

Her tone shifted in an instant. She scoffed, “I’m preparing a surprise for her. What are you yelling for? You’ve been gone for years; I'm the one who’s kept this family together.”

How dare she sound so righteous?

Even while I was buried in research, I sent her money every month, at least a hundred thousand dollars, more than enough for her and our daughter to live well.

We even had a housekeeper. Alice didn’t have to lift a finger.

What exactly had she been ‘holding together’ when she couldn’t even protect our daughter?

“Is Carlos with our daughter?”

That voice in the video belonged to Carlos Tucker, the son of Alice’s so-called first love, Stephen Tucker.

He had been living in our house while attending school.

I had objected at first, but Alice insisted Stephen was just an old friend, someone who had helped her a lot in the past. She said we owed him and that turning him away would be ungrateful.

I trusted her completely and gave in to her unreasonable request.

Now, Alice stammered, claiming she didn’t know anything and needed to check before getting back to me.

Meanwhile, I kept trying to reach my daughter.

Not long after, Alice called back and said I was being paranoid. According to her, Carlos and Tatiana were just playing an escape room game with role-playing elements. What I saw earlier, she insisted, wasn’t real. Just part of the game.

But I trusted my own eyes far more than her excuses.

What I saw wasn’t some harmless prank; it was torment. My daughter’s fear was real, deep and unmistakable.

Then, Alice sent me another video. In it, Tatiana avoided the camera and spoke in a flat, robotic voice. “Daddy, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Today is my birthday and I had so much fun.”

That only fueled my anger. She was still wearing the same clothes from three years ago, the ones from the day I left home. The fabric was faded from too many washes, with several clumsy patches sewn in.

Her words were stiff, clearly rehearsed from a script.

I stayed calm. I told Alice the project still needed more time and asked her to keep things in order at home.

She let out a visible sigh of relief and readily agreed.

After hanging up, I told my assistant to arrange a private jet; I had to get home immediately.

I needed to see with my own eyes what my daughter had endured in the three years I’d been away.

In less than twenty minutes, the private jet was ready, with a flight path arranged just for me.

Two hours later, I landed and headed straight home.

But everything had changed. I couldn’t even get through the gate.

“Who are you? Trying to flirt with the lady of the house?”

“Get lost before Mr. Tucker loses his temper!”

Before I returned, I thought only my daughter had been bullied. I never imagined that my existence would even be wiped away.

Since when did Mr. Tucker become master of the house?

I asked coldly, “Don’t you know who I am?”

Not one familiar face stood in the yard.

Because of the classified nature of my work, I had carefully hired four housemaids and six bodyguards, all people with verified backgrounds.

Where had they gone?

“You better leave, or I’m calling the police.”

I sneered. “Then you report it.”

The house had become like that; I was about to call the police.

I walked right in. The maid couldn’t stop me. In the corner of the yard, I saw a bike, rusted and forgotten. It was barely recognizable.

That bicycle had been custom-made overseas, costing over a hundred thousand dollars, shipped by air as a birthday gift for my daughter.

Even during those three years away, I never missed a single gift, each one chosen with care.

On closer look, the bike was a wreck, completely ruined. Not a single part could be salvaged. It had clearly been left out in the rain, carelessly handled and violently abused.

My daughter, Tatiana, would never treat her things this way; she had always been gentle and careful with her belongings.

Sure enough, I spotted something carved into the frame: Tucker.

My blood boiled. The gift I had lovingly picked for my daughter had been stolen by Carlos and instead of treasuring it, he had destroyed it without a second thought.

Holding back the fury rising in my chest, I asked, “Where is the young lady?”

The maid responded coldly, “What, young lady? There’s only one young master in this house, Young Master Carlos.”

“Where’s Tatiana?”

“Oh, you mean the nanny’s daughter who left? She’s been gone for a long time. I think you’ve been fooled. She was never some young lady.”

My daughter had been kicked out? Unbelievable.

“I’m warning you. Don’t stir up trouble. The bodyguards will be back soon.”

I stared her down. “Do you enjoy working here?”

She lifted her chin proudly. “Of course. Our master and madam are so loving and their son is outstanding. The three of them make the perfect family.”

I replied coldly, “Start looking for a new job. You’re done here.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, clearly not taking my words seriously.

I didn’t waste time arguing. Right now, nothing mattered more than finding my daughter.

She was the apple of my eye and I knew she must’ve endured unimaginable pain over the past three years.

As soon as I left the house, I made a call.

“Where is my daughter?”

I didn’t bother calling Alice. I had completely lost faith in her.

Before I left, I had entrusted everything to her. She had turned around and crushed that trust without hesitation.

It didn’t take long to find out where my daughter was staying.

She was living in a rusted tin shack, tucked away in a slum marked for demolition, filthy, cluttered, unfit for anyone to call home.

My chest tightened like a blade had sliced straight through it.

The little princess I had once held so dearly had been forced to live like this.

I rushed over. As I neared the door, voices drifted from inside.

“Tatiana, I suggest you keep that mouth of yours shut. Don’t speak out of line.”

“Your dad’s not coming back. Stop wasting your time.”

“Besides, even if your dad shows up, it won’t change a thing. He’s just a useless nobody.”

It was Carlos’s voice. Hearing it left me stunned.

I had never imagined he’d grow so bold, so arrogant.

Back when Alice brought him into our home, he had seemed quiet and timid. I even told my daughter to be kind to him, not to tease or push him around. Turns out, it was all a performance. His true colors were darker than I ever expected.

I regretted ever saying yes to Alice’s request; that decision had brought a wolf into our home. She had told me he was obedient and sensible, that he’d stay out of trouble.

“I won’t let you insult my dad! He’s the best dad in the world!” My daughter’s voice rang out, firm and full of fire.

Carlos struck her.

“You keep defending him, then where is he, huh?”

“Quit faking. You really think I believe you passed out?”

I couldn’t listen anymore. I kicked the door open.

Carlos froze when he saw me, but quickly pulled on that fake, well-behaved mask.

“Uncle, you’re back! Auntie’s going to be so happy.”

I shot him a cold look and walked straight to my daughter, who had collapsed on the floor.

“Uncle, I didn’t do anything. Tatiana’s probably just tired from school stress.”

I didn’t say a word. I scooped her into my arms and walked out.

I’d settle the score later; for now, her well-being came first.

As I carried her, my eyes stung.

She felt terrifyingly light.

Three years ago, before I left, I had carried her in my arms, she’d been heavier then than she was now.

So what kind of life had she endured during these three years?

I rushed her to the best hospital and found the most experienced doctor.

After the examination, the doctor said, “Her condition isn’t critical. She’s just severely malnourished and clearly hasn’t been eating properly.”

My fists clenched in silent rage.

So after I left, Alice hadn’t even made sure she had food?

How could a mother be so heartless?

“Oh, by the way, would you like to file a police report?”

I immediately asked what he meant.

He told me my daughter had multiple old and new injuries, signs of possible abuse.

I nodded slowly.

Alice and Carlos wouldn’t walk away from this.

But involving the police? That would be too kind.

I’d make them pay myself.

When my daughter woke up, I rushed to her bedside.

“Tatiana!”

She blinked in disbelief. “Dad, am I dreaming? Did I die? Is that why I see you?”

Tears welled in my eyes. I pulled her into my arms. “Tatiana, it’s Daddy. I’m here. Whatever happened, tell me. I won’t let them get away with it.”

Her body trembled. Panic flashed across her face.

“Dad, I wasn’t bullied. I’m okay. Please, just don’t get involved.”

I did everything I could to calm her down and only after what felt like an eternity did she finally settle.

The doctor gave her a sedative and soon, she drifted into sleep. From the doctor, I learned that she had developed acute stress reactions and psychological trauma from the constant bullying.

My anger was indescribable.

Just then, the door to the hospital room burst open.

“Tatiana, are you alright?”

I recognized her immediately. She was the maid I’d hired before I left, one of the most honest and loyal ones.

When she saw me, tears sprang to her eyes.

“Mr. Stewart, you’re finally back. Thank goodness.”

I had so many questions and so many things I needed to understand.

She explained that three months after I left, Alice fired everyone I’d hired. She replaced them with new bodyguards, people connected to Stephen and they were nothing but street thugs.