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The loud echoes of my black heels fill the large creme-based room with marble tiles on the pristine floor. A single chandelier lights the space and there's a man standing by a historic painting.

"Bonjour, Woods. This way." He says, his french accent is prominent. His speckless suit almost shines as he leads me to the large wooden door down the wide, long hallway with paintings and dangling lights.

He opens the large door to this even larger room, the roof high, and there's a staircase that curls up to the second floor in the middle of the room. In that curl, there is a sofa with no back, a plum red. "Take your seat. I'll come back when he's ready." I nod and can't help but look around.

The floors look like no one has ever stepped in this place before. The air seems clean and calming. The temperature is perfect and each room seems to get bigger. I hear the sound of footsteps echo from down the hall and I see the man that escorted me here.

"This way." My stomach contracts whilst walking to the other large door. Everything is so perfect to the point nothing feels real. It feels like a show without an audience.

The door opens; surprisingly, this is the smallest room I've been in since I step foot in this place. The door fully opens and there is a small square table for two and in one of the seats is Mala.

My and his eyes meet and my stomach tingles. It feels like deja vu but I don't know what it is. His face looks similar to something I've seen before but it's all so different. "Hazel!" He stands up so I put on a smile and he pecks both of my cheeks.

We both take a seat opposite each other and a waiter pours us a glass of alcohol. It feels like I'm on a set for a show. I'm in a restaurant for two. He leans in, his silver chains on his wrist with silver rings on the table full of cutlery, plates and two large wine glasses.

"How's your mother?"

My eyes move from his hands to his eyes and I recognise something still. I don't know what. "Oh- Um.. I don't really talk to my mum as I'm on a task but I'm sure she's fine."

"Of course. How are you?"

I nod and dread fills me as I feel the doors lock behind me. "Um. Yeah. I'm fine thanks. Yourself?"

"Sorry, I'm going to get to the chase." He seems bored already. I feel like the temperature is now overly hot and nothing has happened. "I'm your father."

Wrong.

Why would you say it now?

We don't know each other.

"No, you're not. My mum had me as a mistake and hasn't seen the d-"

"No, your mother had a family who loved her and she took her career over that." He drinks his wine. "You would've turned out great if she let me take care of you."

I frown, a bit offended. "No... there must be a mis-"

He turns around a picture of my mum but she's young with a relieved smile on her face in a hospital robe. And I'm small and in her arms. And Mala is there. Kissing my forehead. "Proof is in the pudding, cupcake."

I shake my head and my eyes water. This really is a show. Mala talks and I stare at the corner of the table. I'm confused and hurt. What a fucking shit way to tell your daughter that you're the dad. He's not my dad. My mum lied to me. The person who's meant to love me lied.

They place the plate with food on the larger plate already on the table and my body is paralysed. "This.. this makes no sense. You're friends with Harry."

He chuckles and I look at him with mere disgust and he clears his throat. "You chose not to be in my life."

"No, like I sai-"

"Yes." I cut him off, shaking myself out of my state. "Yes mum chose her career but you could've been in my life still. You could have tried but you didn't. You chose this." I look him dead in the eyes coldly. "Why the fuck would I get bought here to be told my whole life has been twisted into something it's not?" A tear stains my cheek.

"No attitude, cupcake. I'm here now, aren't I?"

"No. No, you're not here. You won't be here. I don't want you here." I begin. "You fucked my mum and I'm here now. That barely makes you a dad."

I wipe my tears off my cheek and get up to leave. I turn around and walk to the door but two security guards cover it. I turn around and Mala is right behind me and I'm surprised I didn't hear his footsteps.

A barrel of a gun is against my temple.

A gun.

My head.

My father?

"We're not done here."

"Yes we are."

"You're very bold, kid." He says, pressing that barrel harder. "I could kill you right now."

"No, you couldn't. You wouldn't have told me I was your daughter if your plan was to kill me. You rather felt bad so you told me before you murder me or you want to keep me when you know you chose not to. Either way, you're a piece of shit."

He goes quiet for a moment. "I have a lot of power over you, Hazel. Don't you fucking tell me what I'll do."

Then it's my turn to be quiet. " So," He starts and puts the gun down. "I know a lot of stuff to do with your task. I'm tied to everything to do with your situation. Now, if you'd like to stop being a brat, I can help you."

"Just for help?"

"You have my word." He smiles and I can tell he's lying. He's a liar. "Boys." The two men behind unlock the door and open it. "Meet me here a week before you go to that party."

I turn around and feel like he deserves none of my words. "There will be sanctions if you don't!" He shouts.

As soon as I leave the room, I struggle to remember how to get out. My head is pounding. It makes sense why something just clicks when I see him now. He's my father. Mum lied to me. This wasn't a hook-up. It wasn't an accident. But she convinced me I was.

I step out, the wind making me instantly more neutralised and I sit on the top step to wait for Harry.

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