Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband
Chapter 27: I Will Call For Help!

Chapter 27: I Will Call For Help!

Claire’s POV

"Dad!" I exclaimed as shock rippled through me. I hadn’t seen my father in years, and I certainly hadn’t expected him to show up at my door, here of all places.

Seeing the man in front of me, all the images from the past started to run through my mind.

Why do I feel that every single person in this country hurts me? I thought.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to ask, though I already knew the answer. My father had never been one to check in or care about my well-being. That wasn’t his style. It wasn’t out of concern if he was standing here now after all this time. He wanted something—he always did.

He glanced past me as if the apartment wasn’t worth his time. "Aren’t you going to let me in?" His tone was as cold as ever, demanding but laced with judgment like my very existence was a disappointment to him.

As always! He despised me!

I hesitated, gripping the door tightly, unsure whether to let him into my space or leave him standing there. Why is he here? I wondered. After everything he’d put me through, the years of distance and silence, why now?

He sold me to a rich man and demanded me for money now and then. When I was suffering, he wasn’t there for me. I knew that look on his face all too well—the one that said he needed something, yet once again.

"What do you want, Dad?" I asked in a firm tone. I refused to let him see how much his sudden appearance rattled me.

He raised an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth twitched with something between a sneer and a smirk. "I see you haven’t changed much. Always so quick to jump to conclusions." He paused, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to gauge how much control he still had over me. "I need your help."

I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat. Of course. He hadn’t changed at all. The years had made him older, but they hadn’t softened him. "Help?" I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "You haven’t spoken to me in years. And now you show up asking for help?"

He didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be," he said flatly. "You think I enjoy this? Coming to you?"

I shook my head as the familiar sting of his words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. "I don’t know why you are here, Dad, but whatever it is, I am not interested."

I tried to close the door, but his hand shot out, gripping it with force. "Do you really want me to turn away and leave?" he asked, his voice low as he narrowed his eyes with a dangerous glint. There was something cold and dangerous in them that I hadn’t seen in years, but it still managed to send a chill down my spine.

My chest tightened with the same fear I’d felt as a child. I had always been afraid of him and wanted to run away from him. But I wasn’t a child anymore as I swallowed hard.

"Yes," I said firmly as my heart pounded in my ears. "That’s exactly what I want." My words came out colder than I expected, but I was determined not to back down.

For a moment, I thought he might leave, but before I could even process what was happening, he shoved the door open with sudden force, sending me stumbling backward. My balance slipped, and I fell hard onto the floor with a loud thud, the impact sending a sharp pain through my body.

Shock rippled through me as I looked up at him, my mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. He stepped into the apartment, his eyes dark and unyielding, the door slamming shut behind him.

I tried to push myself up, but the fear surged again. I wasn’t sure what he wanted or how far he was willing to go, but I needed to step away from him as soon as possible. There was something really wrong with him.

"You think you can just turn me away like that?" he growled, his voice filled with disdain. "You have no idea what’s at stake."

My body trembled, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I pulled myself up from the floor, meeting his eyes with as much defiance as I could muster. "Do I have to care what’s on stake?" I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to sound strong. "I don’t care what you want and I have nothing to do with that! And if you don’t leave, I will call the police!"

He didn’t flinch and didn’t seem to care about my words and warnings at all. "I will do whatever I need to do," he said, his voice eerily calm. "And you are going to listen."

"Make me then!" I shot back, my voice filled with a confidence I never thought I could muster in front of him.

The moment the words left my mouth, I turned and rushed toward the kitchen cabinet where I’d left my cell phone. My fingers fumbled as I grabbed it and dialed the first number that came up, my hands shaking as fear surged through me. I didn’t even check who I was calling.

I placed the phone back on the counter as quickly as I could, trying to seem calm, but I could already hear his footsteps following close behind me. The apartment was small, and it didn’t take long for George, my so-called father, to catch up.

"Think a phone call’s going to stop me?" he sneered, his voice filled with contempt.

I stepped back, my heart racing. "This is a crime! You can’t harm me!"

"Is that so?" he said, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Are you challenging me?"

"I will call for help!" I said, hoping that the person who I had called would have understood the reason behind my call.

= = = =

Who do you think the call went to?

Sissy?

Evander?

Or someone else?

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