Chapter 5: A Father's Love, Cheaper Than Grass

Ilone's POV

In the dim living room sat the man who had once terrified me.

Gideon Thorne. My father.

When I was little, I used to stand in front of the television, watching his football interviews over and over. Back then, Gideon had been strong, dazzling—an idol worshipped by countless fans. More than once, I'd fantasized that one day he would be like other dads: he'd pick me up, kiss my cheek, and tell me, "Ilone, you're Daddy's most precious daughter."

But eventually I learned the truth. Idols belong to everyone except their own daughters.

Today, though, he didn't look at me the way he used to—as if the mere sight of me would dirty his vision. Instead, Gideon actually smiled at me.

"Your mother tells me you're planning to marry Kyle Voss." He paused. "Is that true, Ilone?"

I stood where I was, silent.

There was no anger in his voice. If anything, Gideon's smile deepened. "I'll take that as a yes. In that case, I think our family should have a proper talk."

Before I could figure out how to respond, Mara shot to her feet.

"Gideon, have you lost your mind?" Her voice was shrill enough to pierce eardrums. "You're really going to let her marry into the Voss family?"

She marched over to me, her crimson-lacquered fingernails jabbing toward my face. "Do you have any idea what kind of standing the Voss family has in Vela City? They're true old-money aristocracy, not some nouveau riche upstarts. What makes her think she can squeeze into that circle? That disgusting pig body of hers?"

Mara let out a cold laugh and whirled back to glare at Gideon. "If she shows up in public as Mrs. Voss, the entire Thorne family will become a laughingstock in every social circle!"

Listening to those cutting words, I felt my hands ball into fists without meaning to.

"Mother!" Ophelia suddenly spoke up. "Please stop talking about Sister like that. Grandma just passed away—she's already suffering enough."

She turned to me, her angel-pretty face filled with concern. "Sister, I'm not saying you're not good enough for Kyle. I'm just worried." She bit her lip lightly. "You don't know how complicated that world is. Those women spend every day discussing the latest haute couture collections, private overseas art auctions, charity galas. Sometimes they'll gossip for weeks about someone wearing last season's custom piece."

She stepped closer and took my hand. "Sister, if anyone ever embarrasses you because of your figure, you have to tell me. I might not have custom gowns in your size right away, but I can put you in touch with my styling team. They can help."

Why did such tender words make my stomach clench with pain?

"With that pig body of hers, how could there ever be any haute—"

"Enough, Mara." Gideon cut her off abruptly.

He turned back to me, his face arranged in an expression of fatherly affection I'd never seen before. "Ilone, if your grandmother entrusted you to the Voss family on her deathbed, she must have had her reasons. If Kyle is willing to go through with this marriage, it's not a bad thing for you." He paused, his tone turning meaningful. "And it's not a bad thing for the Thornes, either."

Even though I knew this sudden tenderness was wrong, I still felt a ridiculous flicker of hope—maybe this time, Dad actually wanted to protect me?

That pathetic hope didn't even last ten seconds.

Gideon opened the leather briefcase he'd brought with him and pulled out a thick stack of investment materials, sliding them across to me.

"This is a premium sports asset development project I've been personally involved in," he said, tapping the cover with one finger. "It's a comprehensive athletic club for elite athletes, entrepreneurs, and private members. The project itself is solid—there's just been a slight delay in the latest round of institutional funding."

I looked down at the documents and asked hoarsely, "So what?"

Gideon leaned back against the sofa, utterly at ease. "Voss Capital is actively seeking asset allocation projects like this for investment. All you need to do is hand it to Kyle and have his people take a look."

I slowly raised my head and met his eyes calmly. "And then?"

Gideon frowned slightly, displeasure flickering across his face. "As long as Voss's private banking arm is willing to endorse this project, the follow-on bank credit and venture capital will line up to get in. The Thorne family's crisis will be completely resolved—we could even move up a tier."

"So that's why you came all the way here today to support my marriage to Kyle?"

The false warmth in Gideon's eyes evaporated instantly, replaced by the contempt I knew so well.

"Ilone, don't be so childish. Adult marriages are about resource exchange. Since you've been lucky enough to become Mrs. Voss, isn't it your natural obligation to secure some tangible benefits for the family that raised you?"

When I still didn't speak, pressing my lips together, his tone turned icy, taking on the condescending edge of a reprimand.

"Don't forget whose last name you carry. When you were born premature and spent a month in the ICU, burning through thousands of dollars in bills every single day, who signed those checks and bought you back from death's door? Do you really think the Thorne family owes you something?"

I stared at this man who had never once truly taken care of me in twenty-four years, and suddenly the absurdity of it all crashed over me.

They were planning to use a medical bill from twenty-four years ago to claim ownership of the rest of my married life.

Thinking of that wedding dress, thinking of Grandma's words, I slowly straightened the spine I'd learned to hunch in their presence.

"If you still have my hospital bills from when I was born, you can send them to me."

"What?"

I looked him squarely in the eye. "The money—I can pay you back." Then I slid the investment materials back across to him.

"But my marriage is not a transaction. And it's not the Thorne family's financing channel."

Gideon's face darkened completely, a tide of rage flooding into his eyes. "You really think Kyle Voss—a man standing at the very top of the pyramid—would spare you a second glance if you stripped away the respectability the Thorne name gives you?"

I was silent for a few seconds, then answered softly.

"Maybe he wouldn't. But if the only thing the Thorne name does is constantly remind me of what I supposedly owe you—" I met his gaze head-on. "—then I don't need it."

The next second, Gideon surged to his feet.

"You... you... How dare you speak to me like that?"

His face contorted with fury. The man who'd once stood on a football field seemed to have that explosive champion temper flooding back into his body.

"I'll beat the hell out of you, you worthless piece of—"

Seeing his hand raised, I flinched instinctively.

But thinking of Grandma, I forced myself to lift my head and stare straight at this enraged man, shoving down the tremor that came from fear.

"Go ahead and hit me. Aim for my face, just like you did when I was little—you're so good at it! Tomorrow I'll go see Kyle with a face swollen like a pig's head. Let's see if he still wants to marry the daughter of a violent criminal!"