Mockery Turned Majesty: Her Rise After Divorce

For a brief second, Jase went completely still. Rena had a father? He vaguely recalled that back when they first got married, Rena had casually mentioned her father was in a foreign country, somewhere remote and difficult to reach. Yet over the past five years, her father had never shown his face, never called, and never sent a single message. In Jase's eyes, during those same five years, Rena's world had seemed to revolve entirely around him, to the point that he had all but forgotten she even had family of her own. So the father who had been nowhere to be found was showing up now? In an instant, Jase pictured a shabby, calculating middle-aged man with greedy eyes and the worn-out look of someone who had hit rock bottom. What kind of respectable father would dump his own daughter in another household for five years and never once check on her? More likely, her father had somehow learned that he was now the billionaire president of Bailey Group and had come sniffing around for a piece of the fortune. Nothing disgusted him more than opportunists who tried to cling to him for status and money. Yet the chill in Rena's eyes was so sharp and distant that, for some reason, his heart gave a sudden, uneasy jolt. Following a short pause, Jase offered a reluctant, rigid nod. "Fine. Tomorrow at three in the afternoon. I'll come get you." Without giving him a second look, Rena turned on her heel and walked away. By the following day, at 3:05 p.m., Rena was standing alone on the street corner, her eyes fixed on the dead-silent message thread on her phone. When 3:15 came, her phone finally lit up with an incoming call. "Rena." A strained edge threaded through Jase's voice over the line. "I can't go pick up your father today." "Why not?" "Elyse just got news about a car crash. She has to get to the hospital right away and help with the emergency treatment. I'll go see your father another day. For now, you should go get him yourself, alright?" Just then, Elyse's shaky voice drifted through from his side, fragile and tearful. "Jase, please hurry… they're still waiting for me to save them." Without warning, the edge in his tone melted into a quiet warmth. "I got it. Please calm down." Phone still in hand, Rena stood motionless on the crowded sidewalk as traffic roared past. On the opposite side of the street, a black Maybach sat parked by the curb. Near it, Jase had bent down and was carefully carrying Elyse out of his car. Nestled against his chest, Elyse looked utterly calm, not the least bit shaken. A car accident? Saving lives? The whole thing had clearly been a deliberately orchestrated act, staged to strip her bare and make her look pathetic on the one day that meant everything to her. Silently, Rena watched the black Maybach tear down the street and disappear. Whatever had been lodged in her chest for all these years seemed to break loose all at once. Only a hollow ache remained, so numb and vacant that even the wind slipping through it carried no chill. "Jase," she murmured to the dead line, her voice faint and steady, "we're done." Without another pause, she spun around, yanked open the car door, started the engine, and drove her foot hard into the accelerator. ... By the time she arrived at Sky Mansion, a black banner stitched with golden patterns hung over the entrance—the Shaw family emblem, one every power in Qremvale's underworld recognized on sight. On any other day, only authorized vehicles were allowed through—everyone else was turned away without question. This time, though, the guards took one look at her license plate and let the vehicle roll past without so much as a word, as if they had seen nothing at all. With a steady motion, the car door swung open as Rena stepped out, her presence carrying a quiet, commanding weight. Far ahead, two rigid lines of bodyguards in black suits stood at attention on either side. Well over a hundred men filled the space, their ranks packed tight into a wall of black that gave off a grim, ice-cold menace. Each one of them was armed with a loaded gun. The instant her heel touched the ground, all hundred men moved as one, bending sharply at the waist in a deep bow. "Welcome home, Ms. Shaw!" With a deep metallic groan, the towering iron gates slid apart on either side. Before the vast floor-to-ceiling windows, a figure stood with his back to the crowd, still as a shadow carved from stone. At the sound of the movement behind him, he slowly turned. Then he advanced one measured step at a time, while the attendants at his back halted several steps away, not one of them daring to come any closer. "You've gotten thinner." When he stopped in front of his daughter, Archie Shaw lifted a hand as though he wanted to touch her face, only for it to hover in the air, frozen, as if he was afraid she might break beneath his fingers. "Rena, I'm home!" In that fleeting moment, the Shaw family's leader—the man who could make the entire Qremvale underworld tremble with a single word—could not hide the ache and remorse etched across his face. At the sight of the man she hadn't seen in five long years, a sharp rush of emotion burned through Rena's nose. "Dad." A hoarse apology slipped from Archie as he pulled her into a fierce, protective embrace. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should've come back sooner." Little by little, the stiffness in Rena's back gave way in his arms. For the past five years, she had nearly convinced herself she would never see her father again. "Dad…" she murmured. Archie cupped Rena's face in both hands. "Tell me who hurt you like this," he demanded in a low, strained voice. "Was it that man? You don't need to be scared anymore. I'm here now. Bailey Group doesn't matter. Even if I have to tear Qremvale apart piece by piece, I'll still be the one standing behind you." A brief hesitation flickered across her face before Rena questioned him. "What about Mom?" The motion of Archie's hand stalled midair. The sharp, lethal glint in his eyes dimmed instantly, replaced by a hollow, aching sorrow that ran far too deep. After a quiet moment, he reached into his coat and pulled out an old photograph, its edges faintly yellowed with time, then gently pressed it into her palm. Captured in the image were the three of them together, frozen in a happier past. Within the photo, her mother stood in a crisp white lab coat, her expression soft and warm, a research report held neatly in her hands as she smiled with quiet pride. "Your mother never abandoned us. Back then, when the family was tearing itself apart over power, those side branches set their sights on the genetic formula she carried because they wanted control of the family. She vanished on purpose, drawing the assassins away so they wouldn't come after us." Rena's fingers tightened around the photograph, crumpling the edge. Only then did it make sense why Clara was gone—everything she had done was to keep them safe. Archie's gaze sharpened, turning cold and merciless in an instant. "I didn't come back for five years because there were things I had to quietly put in order. Every piece of trash that destroyed our family has already been taken care of. This time, I'm bringing your mother home with me." His gaze settled on Rena, heavy with fierce protectiveness. "Rena, come home with me. Our doors will always stay open for you. And anyone who dares make you suffer… they'll be wiped off the face of this world." Silence stretched between them before Rena finally gave a slow, steady shake of her head. "Dad, I want to do this myself." She intended to withdraw every bit of love she had misplaced over those wasted five years. With her own hands, she would tear apart the hollow lie those five years had turned into. Archie studied her for a moment but chose not to argue. "Go, then. Just keep this in mind—no matter what comes your way, this family stands firmly behind you."