“My hand hurts a lot! Please, stop!” cried little Sophie, shaking as she knelt on the cold floor. Tears ran down her red cheeks as she held her hand, the pain too much to bear.

“My hand hurts so much! Please, stop!” cried little Sophie, trembling as she knelt on the cold floor. Tears flowed down her red cheeks as she clutched her hand, unable to bear the pain.

Standing over her was Margaret, her stepmother, dressed in a fancy red dress and pearls. She pointed at Sophie like it was a weapon. “You stupid girl! Look at the mess you made—you spilled water everywhere! Do you have any idea how much trouble you cause me every day?”

Next to Sophie was a metal bucket and a wet cloth, showing she had tried to clean up the spill. She had only been trying to help, but had slipped and hit her hand on the bucket. Now she cried from the pain while Margaret yelled at her.

“I didn’t mean to!” Sophie cried out. “Please, my hand… it hurts so much.”

But Margaret didn’t care. “You’re weak, Sophie. Always crying and complaining. If you want to stay in this house, you’ll have to be tougher.” Her voice was as sharp as a knife.

Just then, the front door flew open. Richard Hale, Sophie’s dad, hurried into the room with his leather briefcase still in his hand. His heart nearly stopped when he saw his daughter on the floor, crying in pain, and his wife standing over her, looking harsh and angry.

“Margaret!” Richard shouted, his voice loud enough to shake the walls. “What the hell are you doing to my daughter?”

The room went still. Sophie gasped between sobs, her wide eyes turning to her father—the one person she had been silently hoping for.

Richard dropped his briefcase with a loud thud and rushed to Sophie. He knelt down beside her, gently taking her hurt hand. His heart broke as he saw the bruise forming on her tiny knuckles. “Sweetheart, I’m here. Let me see. Does it hurt a lot?”

Sophie nodded, too choked up to speak. She buried her face in his chest, holding on to him tightly, like she needed him to survive.

Richard’s face tightened with anger, fury burning in him. He slowly stood up and turned to Margaret, his eyes full of fire. “Explain yourself. Now.”

Margaret scoffed, her voice defensive. “She’s just overreacting. She fell while cleaning, that’s all. Kids always exaggerate.”

Richard’s voice boomed. “Exaggerate? She’s crying out in pain! And you’re yelling at her instead of helping? What kind of person does that?”

Margaret crossed her arms, her usual calm starting to crack under his anger. “I’ve tried, Richard. But she’s not my child. She never listens. She messes up all the time, and you’re never home to see it.”

Her words hit Richard hard, like a slap to the face. He’d been so focused on his work, convincing himself he was building a future for Sophie. But what was the point of all his success if his little girl was suffering in silence?

He stepped closer to Margaret, his voice cold and serious. “You may not be her mother, but as my wife, you had one job—to protect her, to love her like your own. And instead, you’ve broken her spirit.”

Margaret hesitated, her calm front slipping. Richard’s words were sharp as a blade. “If you can’t treat Sophie with love and kindness, then you don’t belong here. My daughter comes first. Always.”

Behind him, Sophie weakly whispered, “Daddy…” Her small voice gave him strength.

The room was thick with silence. Margaret’s face twisted in anger. “So you’re choosing her over me? After everything I’ve done for you—your reputation, your status, the events I’ve hosted to make you look good?”

Richard’s face grew cold. “I built my success before you came along. But Sophie—” He looked at his daughter, still holding her sore hand, her eyes red from crying. “—Sophie is the only thing that matters to me.”

He knelt down again, gently brushing a lock of hair from Sophie’s face. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here for you. From now on, I promise, no one will hurt you again.”

Sophie’s tears flowed again, but this time, they felt like relief. “I just wanted you, Daddy. Not the parties… not the house. Just you.”

Richard’s heart broke. He lifted her carefully into his arms, holding her like the most precious thing in the world. Then, he turned to Margaret, his voice cold and final. “Leave. This house, my life, my daughter—there’s no room for cruelty. Today is your last day here.”

Margaret gasped, shocked, but Richard didn’t hesitate. He carried Sophie past the spilled water and the bucket, heading for the door where light poured in.

Outside, the cool air touched Sophie’s cheeks as she snuggled closer to her dad. For the first time in months, she felt safe.

As the door closed behind them, Richard whispered in her hair, “You’re my everything, Sophie. My love, my reason, my world. I’ll never let you beg for mercy again.”

And just like that, the wealth and success didn’t matter anymore. The only empire that counted was the love between a father and his daughter.

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