Daddy's Den: Slave Girl

Ivery Clark POV

The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the car window, painting fleeting patterns on the box I clutched tightly in my lap.

My heart fluttered with anticipation as I traced the delicate ribbon wrapping the anniversary gift.

Inside was a watch—elegant, timeless—engraved with "Forever, John. Yours, Ivery."

I had imagined this moment a hundred times: the surprise lighting up his face, his arms pulling me close, and the whispered promise of forever.

The text he sent earlier still lingered in my mind: "Meet me at SkyView Hall, 7 PM. I have something special planned."

It was so unlike him, choosing a public venue for an anniversary. John always preferred quiet, intimate moments.

But I convinced myself it was part of the surprise, that maybe this time he wanted to do something extraordinary for us.

I'm so excited..!

As the car stopped, I stepped out, my heels clicking against the cobblestone path leading to the grand venue.

The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of fresh rain, and my chest swelled with excitement.

Tonight would be perfect. It had to be.

But as I walked closer, the world around me began to shift. The hum of the crowd, the flash of cameras, the buzz of reporters—it was all wrong.

Did John arrange all this? But why? Where did he get the money from to arrange all this?

My steps faltered as confusion curled around my chest.

What's happening here?

Through the chaos, I caught sight of her. Fayre. Dressed in scarlet, her smile razor-sharp, she stood on the stage as if she owned the world. My stomach twisted.

Fayre Cooper?

Fayre wasn’t just anyone—she was my nightmare personified, the girl who had once made my life hell. My school bully.

A voice crackled through the speakers, silencing the crowd. Fayre’s voice. It was sweet and lethal, dripping with triumph.

“Thank you all for joining us tonight,” she began, her eyes sweeping over the room before locking onto mine. “It’s a special evening for John and me. We’re thrilled to announce…” She paused, her smile widening. “We’re engaged.”

The words didn’t register at first. I blinked, the air sucked from my lungs.

What? Engaged?

What's going on? How did John know Fayre? When did they meet?

“And to make it even more meaningful,” she continued, with a smug glance at the audience, “we’ve been in love for nine months now. It wasn’t easy keeping it a secret, but we knew it was worth it.”

Nine months?

The room spun, and I felt like a bomb had exploded. What!?

My grip on the gift box tightened, my knuckles whitening. My ears rang with Fayre’s words. Nine months?

Me and John had been together since childhood and 3 years of dating. But she says they have been dating for several months?  Was everything a lie?

Years of smiles, of promises, of love, everything was a lie!? My knees weakened as the realization hit me like a thunderclap.

And then I saw him.

John stepped onto the stage, his arm sliding naturally around her waist. The same arm that had held me on stormy nights. The same man who had once whispered he couldn’t live without me. His smile was bright, genuine, but it wasn’t for me.

He took the microphone, his voice steady and warm. “Fayre has been my everything,” he said, his words slicing through me like a knife. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, applause echoing through the hall, but I stood frozen in a haze of disbelief and pain.

Every memory I had of John—the nights we spent dreaming of the future, the way he used to look at me as if I was his whole world—turned to ash in an instant. He had looked at me with love, but it wasn’t real. None of it was real.

The gift slipped from my hands, the ribbon unraveling as it hit the floor with a dull thud.

Fayre’s eyes met mine across the room, her smile venomous, triumphant.

"We will wrap this up. Thank you all for coming and giving us your blessings." She faked a smile, still looking at me.

She knew he was my boyfriend, wasn't she? She orchestrated all of this.

Fayre was a born psychopath. Fayre fed onto people's weaknesses and cries. She was an unhallowed demon who crushed people under her, she enjoyed tormenting people like it was nothing but a fun sport to her.

I thought our ties had cut since we graduated from our school and walked on our own path. But she's back in my life again.

And now she has orchestrated this. This wasn’t just an announcement—it was a show, a declaration of her victory.

My chest heaved, and my vision blurred with tears, but I refused to break here. Not in front of them. Not where she could see the full extent of her destruction.

I turned on my heel and ahead, when her voice echoed from behind. "Miss Ivery Clark, where do you think you are going?"

A slow rage unfurled in my chest as I turned to face her, her figure perfectly poised in her crimson gown.

She looked at me the way she always had—like I was beneath her, a stray she’d kicked and left in the dirt.

"Leaving so soon? Perhaps, did you not enjoy the announcement?” Fayre crossed her arms, tilting her head with mock concern. “Also you seemed a little pale earlier. I was worried. Why not stay for some food? You see, we have arranged a banquet for the engagement party."

“You should enjoy yourself while you’re here—after all, it’s not like you’ll ever dine somewhere this nice again, considering your lower status."

My chest tightened as the humiliation cut through me, but I forced myself to hold her gaze. “Do you have no shame? Acting all cock while stealing other's man? You planned all of this, didn’t you? You were the one who texted me the address."

I glared at her, "The invitation, the announcement, this whole ridiculous charade—just to humiliate me. What kind of person are you?”

"You clearly know what kind of person I'm, don't you?" Her smile widened, her gaze narrowing like a cat playing with a trapped mouse.

“The kind of person who takes what she wants. The kind of person who doesn’t wait around for scraps like you do. You’ve always been so…pathetic, Ivery. Back in school, you pretended to be better, acted so high and mighty with your little smiles and your naive ideas about the world. It was disgusting. And now? Look at you—heartbroken and desperate, still clinging to a fantasy.”

"What more do you want from me, Fayre? You spent your school life tearing me down because you can’t stand me being happy unless. Do you have no guilt or shame?"

Her smile faltered for a moment before returning, sharper this time. “Guilt? Shame? Oh, Ivery, darling,” she sneered. “What should I feel these for? For getting what I deserve? I earned this life—everything I have, including John. And what do you have? A broken heart and no one to pick up the pieces.”

"You were nothing then, and you’re nothing now. A man like John was never yours to begin with. You should’ve known better than to try and claim something you couldn’t hold on to.”

“And you should’ve known better than to build your happiness on someone else’s misery,” I said, my voice cutting through her tirade like steel.

“You can keep John, Fayre. You two deserve each other—liars, cheaters, and cowards. But don’t think for a second that you’ve won. Because this isn’t over. One day, the life you’ve built on lies will come crashing down."

“You’ve spent your entire life trying to take what others have because deep down, you know you’ll never truly be enough. Not for John, not for anyone. And one day, when everything you’ve stolen falls apart, you’ll be left with nothing but your pathetic need for attention and the emptiness you’ve been running from your whole life.”

Her face reddened, her lips parting to respond, "You...who do you think you are!?"

"You don't know anything about me!" She lunged at me in a wild fit of rage, and this time, I wasn’t quick enough to dodge her.

Her hand grabbed at my coat, and in the scuffle, we collided against a nearby table, sending a champagne glass crashing to the floor.

“What the fuck!? Stop it, Fayre!” I shouted.