XVIII

A new day as Yohan’s wife has begun.

Since we don’t have any household help here, I woke up early to prepare breakfast. As we sat in the dining area, eating in silence, Yohan remained engrossed in something on his iPad. After he said those hurtful words last night, I forced myself to sleep, turning my back on him because I didn’t know how to face him after he finished showering. Fortunately, despite the heavy emotions weighing on me, I managed to sleep and wake up early.

“Cosette.”

I paused mid-bite when Yohan called my name. I looked up at him, waiting for what he had to say. “What’s that?”

He met my gaze. “Come home early later. I want dinner ready by the time I get back,” he said coldly before returning his attention to his iPad.

I cringed and avoided eye contact. I wanted to snap at him, to tell him I wasn’t a housemaid in this house. But I held my tongue. Arguing with Yohan would be pointless—I would only end up looking bad, and he would still win in the end.

I hastened to finish my meal, eager to leave. Returning to the company and resuming work suddenly felt like a relief. Surprisingly, the office seemed like a better place than this house. Even with the demanding workload, at least my life there would be more peaceful. Here, I was constantly reminded that, in Yohan’s eyes, everything was my fault—this marriage, this situation, all of it.

“I’m done eating. I’ll be leaving now for work.”

I stood up, cleared my plate, and left without sparing Yohan another glance. His words still stung, and I had no idea when the pain would end. For now, I chose not to dwell on it and focused on getting to work.

When I arrived at Allen Company, I was immediately greeted by our employees. They smiled at me, offering their congratulations. So, they’ve already heard about my marriage to Yohan, huh? I had no doubt my father had spread the news, especially since the Warrens hold significant influence in the business world. With two powerhouse families merging, it was enough to make competitors tremble.

And with my sister marrying a Whitmore, my father had hit the jackpot twice. He only ever thought about business, after all.

Before heading to my office, I stopped by my father’s office to show my face. I hadn’t messaged my mother to let her know I was back since I had gone straight to sleep last night, my appetite ruined by Yohan’s cruel words.

As I entered Dad’s office, I found him signing papers at his desk. He looked up when he heard the door close, his eyes widening in surprise. The moment he saw me, he stood up.

“Good morning, Dad,” I greeted.

“My lovely daughter!” Dad grinned, walking over to embrace me. I returned the hug, smiling back at him. He held my shoulders, his smile unwavering.

“How was your vacation with Yohan in Hawaii?” he asked.

I smiled and answered, “It was amazing, Dad. Yohan and I enjoyed our time there, and I loved the resort we visited.”

Dad nodded, patting my shoulder before returning to his chair. He sat down and turned his attention back to me.

“I’m glad you’re back, Cosette,” he said. “And your timing is perfect—I have something important to discuss with you.”

I furrowed my brows and sat in the nearest chair by Dad's desk. "What is it, Dad?"

He smiled at me. "Now that you're married to Zion Yohan Warren, it means we are officially partners with the Warren Empire. I want you to work in their company as the COO."

My eyes widened, and I shot up from my seat.

"W-What? Dad! That can't be! I won’t leave our company! You promised me that if I did my best, you would give it to me! Why are you making me leave?" My voice trembled with emotion.

I couldn’t believe it. All my sacrifices over the years—gone, just like that. Was it really that easy for Dad? Did he not appreciate everything I had done for our company? He had assured me that if I proved myself, he would eventually hand it over to me. But I was wrong. He wasn’t going to give it to me. He was going to give it to Yohan.

He still didn’t trust me—because I was a woman.

Even as a child, Dad had always made me feel like he regretted having me as his firstborn. Like he was disappointed in me. I had spent my entire life trying to prove him wrong, forcing myself into a field I never truly loved. I worked hard, showed him I was strong, capable of running the company, despite being a woman. Despite the constant pressure of being the eldest, I managed. And now, he was throwing it all away.

"Can't you accept that I can handle our company, Dad? Haven't I sacrificed enough for this?" I asked, my voice breaking. I couldn't hold back my tears—I was hurt. So deeply hurt. My chest tightened, as if my heart was being crushed under the weight of his betrayal.

"You still have a lot to learn before I give you the company, Cosette Blanche."

"You don’t want to give it to me because you’re going to give it to Yohan, aren’t you?"

He didn’t answer.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to make sense of everything, trying to steady my breath so I wouldn’t cry any harder. I swallowed the lump in my throat and composed myself before speaking again.

"S-Since I was a child, Dad, I’ve studied this company inside and out. I’ve given so much of myself to it, but it’s still not enough?! I still need to learn more? To learn what, exactly? Just admit it—you still don’t trust me!"

"Shut up, Cosette!" Dad snapped. "I'm still your father, and I know what I'm doing. If I say you need to learn more, then you do it!"

I sucked in a shaky breath and bit my lip, looking at him with sorrow in my eyes. "You're heartless, Dad," I whispered.

His face flickered with surprise at my words, but I didn’t stay to see his reaction. Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and stormed out of his office. I wiped my tears away quickly, aware of the employees who had begun to stare.

The moment I stepped into the elevator, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I leaned against the cold metal wall, silent sobs shaking my shoulders.

I kept my head down, crying softly.

I never expected my father—the man I had spent my whole life trying to please—to hurt me this much.

I had always obeyed him. Always followed their expectations, especially his. All I ever wanted was to feel that he loved me as his daughter. That he was proud of me.

Geneva always said I was the favorite daughter.

But she was wrong.

I wasn’t the favorite—I was the pressured daughter.

From a young age, I knew I didn’t grow up in a normal family. While other kids played and explored the world freely, all I did was study—study our company, study the responsibilities that came with my name. I never had the chance to do what ordinary children did.

I sacrificed so much for this company—for this family—because I had no choice but to accept the life I was born into. But the pain never really goes away, does it?

In my next life, I hope I can just be an ordinary person, living a simple, quiet life. Not like this—wealthy, yet burdened by endless troubles.

When the elevator doors slid open, I quickly wiped my tears and stepped out, heading straight to my office. The moment I entered, I locked the door behind me and let my emotions spill over. Though I may appear strong in their eyes, the truth is, I am just as fragile—just as easily wounded.

I hope life grants me a chance to be happy.

I don’t think I can endure this forever, carrying this weight until I grow old. I have dreams, things I want to achieve—things that belong to me, not my family name. I have the right to be happy, the right to be free, the right to make my own choices.

More than anything, I hope to find someone who will love me for who I am. Someone who will see my worth, not just my last name.