Zaraleigh Robertsons—known to most simply as Zara—wasn't your average twenty-year-old.
She was the daughter of Richard Robertsons, the man behind Robertsons Holdings, an empire that spanned real estate, energy, technology, and international trade in the powerful island nation of Valmoria.
Despite the wealth and power that came with her name, Zara never acted entitled. Her smile was genuine, her eyes soft, her presence quietly magnetic. She carried herself with a grace that couldn't be bought—and didn't need to be flaunted.
Early in the morning, Zara had just woken up when—
"ZARA!"
Her father's voice shattered her thoughts.
The door burst open a second later.
Richard Robertsons stormed in, his eyes wild and accusing. "How dare you? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Did you think I was blind?"
"I—" Zara scrambled off the bed, trying to understand. "Dad, what are you talking about?"
Whack!
A sharp sound rang in her ears. Her head spun. She collapsed to the floor, dazed.
She stared up in disbelief. Her father had never hit her before.
But now, his face was twisted in fury—so livid, it frightened her.
"When will you finally wake up?! When will you stop clinging to Adrian? He doesn't care about you! Stop this delusional nonsense!"
Her cheek throbbed, but the pain in her chest was worse.
"You hit me," she whispered, voice shaking. "You've never—"
"You forced my hand," her father snapped, pacing like a caged animal. "Do you know how pathetic you look?"He sneered. "Adrian is marrying into the Hawthorne family. He doesn't have time for your childish fantasies."
Zara and Adrian had known each other for years. Their fathers had once been close—but hadn't spoken in over three. Not since the tragic kidnapping and murder of Zara's mother.
The man responsible had been Adrian's uncle—his obsession spiraling into something deadly.
A psychiatric evaluation later declared him unfit to stand trial—an outcome widely believed to have been orchestrated by Adrian's father, Maxwell Langford.
To Richard Robertsons, it was nothing short of a cover-up. A betrayal that shattered a lifelong friendship.
What no one knew was that Richard had been plotting revenge ever since. Quietly. Strategically. He severed all business ties with the Langfords, blocked billion-dollar projects, and sabotaged deals through backdoor influence.
The Langford Group suffered—and they knew exactly who was behind it.
Zara gripped the carpet, thoughts spiraling from the blow—and from the truth she didn't want to face.
"I know he cares about me," she said softly. "He said… he promised—"
"He used you," her father said coldly. "And you let him."
He had only recently discovered their secret relationship—and it ignited something in him.Rage. Disgust. A desperate need to protect what little he had left.
He didn't need the details to see the truth: Adrian Langford wasn't sincere.
And now that he knew, Richard would do whatever it took to end it. Because he had already lost too much.
His beloved wife—the only woman he had ever loved—was taken from him. He had never moved on.
Zara was his only daughter. His princess.
And he would not let a Langford take her too.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of him.
Her father paced, fists clenched. For a moment, he seemed lost in the storm of his rage. Then he stopped. Something colder settled in his face.
"I'm cutting your cards. All of them. You're grounded indefinitely. You'll have guards. You'll delete his number. I'm not letting you throw your life away over a Langford."
Zara's voice was a whisper. "You can't do that…"
"I can. And I will."
He turned away, adjusting his cufflinks like the conversation was over.
"You'll stop contacting him. I'll make sure of it."
When he finally left, slamming the door behind him, Zara stood frozen. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks.
Then—a sharp pain twisted in her stomach. She stumbled back, clutching her abdomen. Nausea surged through her. She barely made it to the sink before vomiting. Her body convulsed with each heave, leaving her weak and shaking.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Pale. Trembling. Cold sweat clinging to her skin.
Then it hit her.
She was late. She hadn't had her period this month.
Her chest tightened. Her breath caught.
No. She had been careful. Hadn't she? Her mind raced, retracing every moment from the past few weeks.
"It's probably just stress," she whispered. "It has to be."
But deep down, she knew. Something was different.
Zara straightened slowly, wiped her mouth, and tried to calm her breathing.
She needed answers.
Only one person could give them.
Adrian.