Ophelia arrived at her father’s house just after noon the following day.
The large family home on the quiet outskirts of the city still held its familiar quiet elegance, but the weight of the scandal had left its mark.
The garden was slightly overgrown, weeds pushing through the once-pristine flowerbeds.
The driveway, usually lined with cars from colleagues and visitors, stood empty and echoing.
She sat in her car for a long moment, gripping the steering wheel, before drawing in a deep, steadying breath and stepping out.
She knocked softly.
The door opened almost immediately.
Dr. Harlan Cater’s face lit up the instant he saw her.
“Ophelia,” he said warmly, pulling her into a tight, protective hug.
His arms felt thinner than she remembered, but the familiar comfort was still there.
“Come in, my girl. I have missed you so much.”
She hugged him back fiercely, burying her face in his shoulder and breathing in the comforting scent of old books, faint antiseptic, and home.
“I missed you too, Dad. More than you know.”
They moved into the living room, where sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft patterns on the worn but elegant furniture.
Harlan looked somewhat better than the last time she had seen him less gaunt, with a touch more color in his cheeks but the deep lines of worry etched across his forehead remained.
“I saw the news about your speech at the gala,” he said proudly as they settled onto the couch.
“You were brilliant up there, Ophelia. Speaking about ethics, healing, and moving forward after scandals… I was so proud of you. How did you manage to get that kind of platform on such short notice?”
Ophelia offered a faint smile, carefully avoiding his eyes as she smoothed her skirt.
“Just… some connections. Nothing important.”
Harlan studied her for a long moment, his gaze far too perceptive.
“And Nicholas? Have you heard from him lately?”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“He doesn’t have anything to do with me anymore. We are done.”
“Good,” her father said firmly, nodding with satisfaction.
“That boy never deserved you.” He paused, then leaned forward, his expression turning more serious.
“So who has been helping you, Ophelia? Your suspension was lifted overnight. You received a promotion, and suddenly the board at City Medical Center is singing your praises. These things don’t happen by magic.”
She shook her head quickly, her pulse quickening.
“Nobody, Dad. I am handling it myself.”
“What about Tristan Bennet?”
Ophelia froze, her breath catching in her throat.
“Nope. Not Tristan… why would you even think that?”
Her father leaned forward, his voice low and urgent.
“I am not stupid, sweetheart. I may be caught in this mess, but I still have my sources. I know Tristan has been around you lately. That man doesn’t help anyone without demanding something in return. Tell me the truth.”
She stayed silent, biting her lip hard.
The memories of the contract, the nights in his penthouse, the way he had claimed her so roughly on the dining table, and the confusing mix of fear, desire, and unwanted tenderness she felt toward him made it impossible to speak.
How could she explain any of it without breaking her father’s heart?
“Father… there is nothing between us, besides Tristan isn’t the kind of guy who would have the time to look my way,” she argued, making Harlam scoff.
“Nonsense! You are my daughter and you deserve someone way wealthier than him.. if only my scandal hadn’t disrupted the reputation you worked so hard to build.” he let out sadly, he had always wanted the best for his daughter.
But he forgot the fact that his enemies could ruin him and that would affect his daughter.
But Harlan wasn’t ready to give up, he would make sure to clear his name even though it’s losing everything he had.
Harlan sighed heavily and rubbed his temple.
“The investigation is still ongoing. They have frozen more of our assets, and the prosecutors are pushing hard. I need to find a way to prove my innocence. Someone inside the company must have tampered with those batches. I didn’t approve any harmful drugs…I swear it.”
Ophelia reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
“We will figure it out together, Dad. I promise.”
“Yeah.. That is why..” he said, pulling out a file and handing it to his daughter.
“What is this?” she asked, staring at it.
“It’s the assets and shares I have in your name, they wouldn’t touch them because it has nothing to do with the company… You should have this with you.” Ophelia collected it opening it and she couldn’t help but pause as the familiar name came up
“You have 15% each in every one of the Elite companies..” he shrugged.
“Elite shares are the only shares I could trust and can trust no shit would happen to so… I needed to buy shares there in my daughter’s name… well he brought the idea a few years ago and I never said no.”
Ophelia was speechless, he brought the idea years ago?
She couldn’t help but be speechless since when has this been going on?
Suddenly, Harlan started coughing, a deep, wracking fit that shook his entire frame.
“Dad! Are you okay?”
He waved her off weakly, coughing a few more times before finally catching his breath.
“I am fine, sweetheart. Just the stress. I need to clear my name before this kills me faster than any prison sentence ever could.”
Ophelia stared at her father, she couldn’t help but ask the worrying question.
“Who do you think could have betrayed you?” Ophelia asked gently, sitting back down.
“Any workers or partners who seemed suspicious?”
Harlan thought for a moment, his brow furrowed.
“Marcus Vale, my assistant, had full access to everything. Then there was Dr. Langford from the research team and a few board members who kept pushing for faster production timelines. I trusted them all…”
Ophelia nodded, committing every name to memory.
“I will look into them quietly. But right now, you need to rest and take care of yourself.”
She stood up, forcing a brighter tone.
“Let me cook something for you. You look like you haven’t eaten properly in days.”
Harlan smiled tiredly.
“That would be wonderful.”
In the kitchen, Ophelia moved around with ease, chopping vegetables and preparing a simple but hearty chicken soup with fresh herbs, one of her father’s favorites.
Harlan sat at the island counter, watching her with soft, affectionate eyes.
“You have always taken care of me, even when you were little,” he said quietly.
“After your mother passed, you grew up too fast.”
Ophelia stirred the pot, a sad smile touching her lips.
“We took care of each other, Dad. That’s what family does.”
They talked about old memories as the soup simmered family vacations to the lake, late-night lab sessions where she had helped him as a child, and how proud he had always been of her achievements.
For a little while, the shadows of scandals, contracts, and Tristan’s demanding presence lifted.
It felt like home again, warm and safe.
“You are a good daughter,” Harlan said as she served him a steaming bowl.
“Whatever is happening… promise me you won’t sacrifice yourself for me.”
Ophelia hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.
“Well, I promise I will be careful.”