She Is Your Daughter

My daughter got into a fight with a boy at school.

When I arrived at the school, I was shocked to find that the boy's parent representative was none other than my ex-boyfriend.

"Your daughter is good at fighting, although she is so young," my ex-boyfriend remarked, giving me a meaningful look.

I couldn't hold back and blurted out, "She is just like her father."

He was dumbfounded by my words.

1

My daughter was seven years old and just started first grade. On her very first day at school, I was called to the school because she got into a fight with a classmate and scratched the boy's face.

I rubbed my forehead and had a headache.

It was said that daughters were always considerate. But my daughter was actually not.

I rushed to the school and saw my daughter standing straight in the teacher's office. He said in a loud voice, "I didn't do anything wrong. He pulled my pigtails first!"

Her stance reminded me of my own unreasonable antics when I was her age.

"Mommy, you're here..."

She turned and saw me and then ran over.

I reached out and hugged her. I silently reminded myself a hundred times that she was my daughter and that I must hold back my anger.

As I entered the office, I noticed a man standing next to the boy.

He had his back to me, tall and broad-shouldered, with a buzz cut and a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his strong build.

I felt something familiar from his aura.

I swallowed nervously and was about to speak when he turned around first.

After he saw me, he flashed a devilish smile.

"Long time no see."

I was shocked to see my ex-boyfriend, Santino Howe.

Was he the boy's parent representative?

I didn't have time to dwell on it and instinctively held my daughter closer.

I even hid her face in my neck, as I didn't want Santino to see her face.

My heart raced, and I became anxious and worried.

When I broke up with him, I never imagined we'd meet again, especially in such a situation.

I feigned calmness, cleared my throat, and said slowly, "Sorry, my girl was naughty. I'll cover the medical expenses."

I took a deep breath and tried to sound friendly and official.

I thought that Santino would let it go after I said that. At least he wouldn't make things difficult for me.

But to my surprise, his "bad personality" remained unchanged after seven years since we broke up.

"Alright. Fifty thousand dollars."

He smiled at me.

Hearing the amount, I couldn't help but jump up from my seat.

"Fifty thousand? Santino, you're asking for the moon."

He paused his rhythmic tapping on the table and then lazily looked up at my flushed, angry face.

"Look at my nephew's face. What if it leaves a scar and no one marries him?"

He feigned a look of pity at the little boy in his arms, while I was left confused.

"He's not your son?"

Santino's expression visibly darkened after he heard my words.

He didn't answer my question. Instead, he turned his gaze to my daughter in my arms.

Seeing his gaze, I felt guilty and feared that he might realize he was my daughter's father.

After a long pause, he looked back at me.

"Did you get married and even give birth to a girl?"

I didn't expect him to ask that. I wanted to sever ties with him nervously, so I quickly made up an excuse.

"Yes. I've been married for seven years."

I looked at him firmly. But the next moment, my little sweetheart in my arms said quickly, "Mommy, why did you lie? You're not married. And you've always told me that I don't have my father."

I was lost for words at that moment.

I clearly told her that his dad ran off with someone else.

2

The office fell silent instantly. I never imagined I'd be trapped by my little sweetheart one day.

But when I looked up and met Santino's gaze, I could only shrink back in fear.

His eyes were distant when he looked at me. He said coldly, "Is she eight?"

I hesitated for a moment and was about to answer his question.

"Sir, I'm seven."

I was on the verge of tears.

I was trying to think of a way to smooth things over when Santino turned his head. He seemingly mocked himself and sneered, "Paige Francis, so you're saying that while we were dating, did you cheat on me? I didn't see that coming. You're quite something."

I pressed my lips together and said nothing. I knew he hated me, and he had every right to.

Santino and I dated for three years. We had planned to get married on our third anniversary, but I stood him up that day.

I told Santino that I didn't love him at all and that I dated him just because I wanted to avoid the blind dates my family arranged for me.

I told him that I'd found true love then and planned to spend every day of the rest of my life with him.

I remembered vividly that Santino's eyes were bloodshot. He stood there, holding a bouquet of ninety-nine roses-my favorite. The oppressive aura around him was a mix of disappointment, dejection, and despair.

But he merely sneered, turned away with indifference, and tossed the roses into a nearby trash can.

After that, Santino's friends labeled me as a heartless woman who toyed with others' feelings.

I never imagined that Santino and I would meet again after our breakup, especially under such circumstances.

It might be fate playing a cruel joke on us, or our tangled destiny was far from over.

Facing his intense gaze, I took a deep breath and said, "I don't have fifty thousand dollars right now..."

I didn't have much money, and fifty thousand dollars was a significant burden.

Santino let out a cold laugh and said, "So, your true love can't even have fifty thousand dollars?"

3

Santino's sharp tongue was as relentless as ever, whether seven years ago when we were dating or today when we met again.

He had no intention of letting me off easily, even though he saw my pale face.

"In the Howe family, we attached great importance to kids. Now that my nephew's face has been scratched by your daughter, it is reasonable to ask for fifty thousand," he said shamelessly.

He perfectly illustrated the saying, "Shamelessness knows no bounds."

Since he put it that way, I couldn't back down.

I gathered my courage and retorted, "The kids just played with each other. Remember when I scratched your face back then? You didn't make such a big deal out of it..."

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, and watched me.

"She seems truly like your daughter. She is as good as you at fighting."

I tried to hold back my anger when I saw him tease me. But I failed. "Her bad temper is thanks to you."

The room fell silent instantly as soon as my words fell. Others were focused on me.

Only then did I realize I had misspoken.

Oh no, how could I have trapped myself like that?

What should I do to cover it up?

"I... I didn't mean it that way. Let me explain... I meant her temper isn't as bad as yours."

Seeing Santino's darkening expression, I quickly tried to correct myself.

"Not that. That's not what I meant. I mean, her temper is indeed bad, but not as bad as yours..."

Facing Santino's slightly narrowed eyes, I felt like crying.

Just as I was about to speak again, he cut me off. "Enough. Stop explaining."

Even though he stopped me from speaking, I put on a pitiful act in front of him as I remembered that I didn't have so much money.

Finally, after half an hour of pleading, Santino couldn't take it anymore. He frowned and interrupted me, agreeing to reduce the amount by ten thousand.

...

I looked at him, dressed in designer brands. His shirt alone must cost more than forty thousand dollars. I couldn't understand why he was so fixated on my compensation.

But since my daughter injured the boy, I had no reason to refuse the compensation.

Just as I agreed and was about to leave, Santino stopped me.

"Friend me on WhatsApp. In case you pull a disappearing act again, who would I go to for compensation?"

His words were so infuriating that I almost wanted to hit him.

However, the annoyance faded away when I saw his WhatsApp profile picture.

I hadn't expected that he still kept the profile picture I chose for him even after seven years.

I remembered his slightly disdainful expression when he first saw it, and now, that picture lay quietly on his profile.

My mind was like a calm surface of water disturbed by a small stone.

Santino put away his phone and said nonchalantly, "Don't overthink it. I didn't use social media much while abroad. So I forgot to change it. I'll change it when I have time."

I tightened my grip slightly while I was holding my daughter and forced a smile without saying anything.

He was right. It was time to change it.

I walked out of the office and stood at the bus stop outside the school with my daughter in my arms. We waited for the bus.

To my surprise, a striking Rolls-Royce stopped in front of us ten minutes later.

The window rolled down, and Santino's familiar and handsome profile was revealed.

I couldn't figure out why he parked his car there.

The next moment, he answered my unspoken question. "Hop in. I'll give you a lift."

I instinctively wanted to refuse him. If not for this chance encounter, I had no intention of seeing him again.

I shook my head to decline.

However, my daughter, who had been lazily lying in my arms, straightened up upon hearing his offer.

"Wow, a free ride. Come on, Mommy, let's take it."

I was speechless.