Chapter 4

The memory of the wedding, the public shaming, the coldness in his daughter's eyes-it all settled on Liam like a heavy weight for a day or two. He felt the familiar pang of loss, not for Sarah, but for the family he thought he was building, for the daughter he had adored. But the feeling didn't last. It quickly hardened into something else: pure, cold resolve.

The wedding reception was where the real play began. After the meal, Sarah and Mark took to the stage for another round of speeches. They gushed about their future, about the success of Apex Innovations. Then, in a moment of pure, staged theater, Mark called Emily up.

"I just want to say," Mark began, putting his arm around a tearful Emily, "that while I'm not her father by blood, I am her father in every way that counts. And I am so proud to call her my daughter."

Emily played her part perfectly. "Thank you, Dad," she sobbed, hugging Mark tightly. "Thank you for being the father I always needed." The room erupted in applause. Liam just sat in the back, sipping his water, an island of calm in a sea of manufactured emotion.

Later, Sarah glided over to his table, her smile as sharp as broken glass.

"Liam," she said, her voice a low purr. "That was a lovely moment, wasn't it? It's so good to see Emily happy."

"She seems ecstatic," he replied, his tone neutral.

"There is one small thing," Sarah continued, getting to the point. "A wedding gift. Emily has her heart set on it. You know that old house your grandfather left you? The one on the coast?"

Liam's eyes narrowed slightly. That property wasn't just an old house. It was a prime piece of undeveloped coastal land, a family heirloom he had refused to sell for any price.

"It's just sitting there, collecting dust," Sarah said dismissively. "It would mean the world to Emily. A place to start her new life with Mark. All you have to do is sign the deed over to her."

Before he could respond, Emily herself appeared, her face flushed with excitement and entitlement.

"Dad," she said, the word sounding like an insult from her lips. "Mom told you about the house. It's the least you could do. I mean, you probably can't even afford a real gift. That old house is all you have left, right? Just sign it over. Mark and I have big plans for it."

The blatant, naked greed was breathtaking. They saw him as a pathetic relic of the past, with one last asset for them to strip away.

Liam looked from Emily's demanding face to Sarah's smug one. He took a slow breath. This was the moment.

"No," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Sarah's smile faltered. "What did you say?"

"I said no," Liam repeated, a little louder this time. He stood up, and his height made both women take a small step back. Several people at nearby tables turned to look.

"I'm sorry, Emily," Liam said, his voice carrying through the sudden quiet. "But I can't give you that property. You see, it's the primary asset for a charitable trust I finalized last week."

He let that sink in.

"It's called the 'Eleanor's Hope Foundation,' named after your great-grandmother. The property was recently appraised at over fifty million dollars. The proceeds from its development will fund scholarships for underprivileged students who want to study engineering. Students who have ambition and integrity, but lack the opportunity."

A wave of murmurs spread through the room. Fifty million dollars. Charitable trust. The narrative Sarah had so carefully crafted of Liam being a poor, bitter failure was shattering in real time. Sarah's face went pale, her eyes wide with disbelief and fury. Emily just stared, her mouth hanging open.

Just then, a booming voice cut through the tension.

"Liam, my man! Sorry I'm late!"

Richard, the financial wizard, strode into the room, dressed in a flamboyant but ridiculously expensive suit. He ignored everyone else and clapped Liam on the back with a force that made him stumble.

"The SEC meeting ran long, you know how it is. They just won't stop talking about regulations!" Richard announced loudly. He then seemed to notice Sarah and Emily for the first time. He peered at them over his glasses. "Who are these people bothering you? Do I need to have my security escort them out?"

Sarah and Emily stood frozen, their public humiliation now complete. The pathetic ex-husband was suddenly a philanthropist with a fifty-million-dollar foundation and a friend who casually name-dropped the SEC. Their trap had not just failed; it had snapped back on them with brutal force.