Chapter Two: The President's Daughter
"Danielle!"
Her father's voice felt bitter than any whip.
Even all the guards were forced to freeze, lined up like statues along the walls.
Danielle didn't flinch…no matter how cruel he was, she was not afraid of him.
His own daughter was the very first and one person in that country who would not get scared by his presence.
She stepped inside and took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what was going to happen now.
The President of The Harlow States didn't ask if she was hurt. Didn't ask what had happened.
He grabbed her arm so fast her sleeve bunched up against his fist.
"You humiliate me," he gritted his teeth. "In front of the whole goddamn country."
Danielle kept her mouth shut, but his hold on her hand only tightened. She wondered if he'd leave marks this time.
"You think you can run off, make a scene, drag my name through this mess? Do you even realise what you've done?" His other hand rose halfway, and Danielle braced herself…but instead of striking, he slammed it down on the polished table.
Danielle felt how gastritis was ready to come out from her throat any minute now, but she swallowed it back.
Silence was always safer…
"You're going overseas," he declared, pacing like a caged lion. "Somewhere quiet, private, where nobody will know you're mine. A university that'll clean up the mess you've made."
Her lips parted before she could stop herself. "Good."
His head snapped toward her.
"Good?" He stalked closer. "You think this is your choice? You're nothing but baggage, Danielle. Do you hear me? A slut like your mother."
For years she'd let that word crush her. Tonight, standing there with her face coloured in black and her chest heavily rising and falling, she didn't feel affected by this stupid statement.
Danielle's lower lip was quivering, but she made her tone sound confident anyway. "Tell me, then. Tell me how you killed her. Tell me how you traded her life for power."
The energy in the hall went dead. Even the guards glanced at each other, shocked by the bravery of this silly girl.
Her father's jaw locked, and a vein bulged at his temple. His hand shot to his belt buckle. He ripped the leather free with one hard yank and snapped it once against his palm.
"Shut your mouth," the president growled.
Danielle waited, her brain felt fogged, but she didn't look away.
She wanted him to do it. Wanted proof of what he really was.
"Do it," Danielle dared. "Just like you did to her."
His arm rose to slap her, but Frank stepped forward.
"Mr. President." Frank seemed concerned. "She's exhausted. Let me take her upstairs."
The President's eyes widened, even with the belt in his hands, he still felr powerless against this girl.
Frank felt the shake, and it looked like he might swing anyway. Then, slowly, he lowered it, lips curled into a smile that couldn't be believed.
"Take her," he ordered. "Before I lose my patience."
Danielle didn't resist when Frank's hand touched her shoulder, guiding her toward the stairs. Her father's eyes were glaring into her back, searing like coals.
Just before she disappeared up the staircase, his voice followed her.
"Frank."
The guard stopped. Danielle did too, her hand immediately gripped the banister.
"Find me the best," the President said, sliding the belt back into place. "The best bodyguard in this country. Someone who can handle her tantrums. Someone who won't hesitate to hit her."
"Yes, sir," Frank replied.
Danielle turned away, hiding the thin smile that formed against her will. If her father thought locking her away in another country and stronger guards would change her, he was wrong.
The president stayed standing at the top of the stairs, watching her go like a general watching a retreat.
"Do it," these words came out so randomly.
The chief of staff, who'd been hovering in the doorway, stepped forward with a tablet already in hand. "Sir?"
"Every copy." He didn't bother to look at names or titles. "Take down every picture Jackson shared. Every repost, every screenshot. Make this disappear." He said the word like it was a command to a machine, not a thing that had already hurt a child.
The chief of staff swallowed. "We'll mobilise legal and press…contact the platforms, push takedown requests…"
"Not requests," the President raised his voice. "Do it. Now! Don't leave traces of us begging. I want it gone by morning. Make it look like an error, a glitch or whatever it takes."
A pause rippled through the little cluster of aides. Somebody moved to speak and was cut off by the President's gaze.
"And find Jackson's parents," he added, quieter. "I want names. I want connections. I want anything that ties them to him…financials, associations, anything embarrassing. Bring it to me."
The request felt exposed. The staff exchanged looks the way swimmers do beneath a silent pool. The general counsel stepped forth.
"Sir, allegations, and fabricating evidence-"
"Not fabricating." His words were ice. "Find real dirt. If there's nothing real, find the thin truths and magnify them. I don't want pity. I don't want sympathy. I want the people who made my daughter a target to feel the cost."
Frank stiffened. The corner of his mouth worked when he glanced toward Danielle's closed doorway.
He had come to protect her body; now he could see they intended to fight back with other weapons.
"Careful," the chief of staff murmured, but his phone was already awake in his hand, scrolling through contacts. "We can run background checks, legal channels, public records, work with law enforcement on any legitimate violations-"
"Legitimate," the President sounded dismissive. "If there are legs to it, use them. If not, then create pressure. Use whatever levers you have. Media pressure, investigations, anything. Put their lives under a microscope. Let them understand what it means to drag my family into the mud."
Someone in the room that was too young to have learned the old fear decided to ask, "Sir, arrest them?"
He smiled like it was the simplest thing in the world. "If the law provides it. If not…we'll make sure the consequences are the same." He turned away to hide the way his hands were clenched in his pockets.
The aides scrambled, and PR was already drafting statements. Legal opened files. Tech began the quiet, frantic work of tracing and removing links.
The President crossed his arms and listened to the clatter of his staff arranging everything. It calmed him.
"Make them pay," he said at last, sounding certain. "Make sure everyone knows who's responsible."
No one asked if what he wanted was true. No one questioned whether it was right.
The president wasn't going to let them torture and bully his daughter…no matter how harsh he was with her, one thing was really undeniable; he loved Danielle.
"I can't let her suffer the same fate as her mother."