Marrying My Father's Enemy-Chapter 102: Eira’s Past
Chapter 102: Eira’s Past
Chapter 102: Eira’s Past
Eira’s diary in his hands felt heavier.
The pages had grown familiar, yet every new entry revealed a fresh wound—a piece of a past he hadn’t seen or had willfully ignored.
He turned the page carefully, the faint creak of the binding broke the silence.
The words stared back at him, a grim confession penned by a younger Eira:
Today was worse. Konrad made me food, and I thought maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t angry anymore. I ate quickly, trying to finish before he changed his mind. But as soon as I swallowed the last bite, he forced me to the bathroom. He grabbed my arm so hard it hurt. He told me I needed to throw it all up. He said I didn’t deserve to keep it. This wasn’t the first time. It happened while Marion was in the hospital. I wanted to tell her, but she was too sick. I didn’t want her to worry about me.
Henry’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightened as he read the words again and again, each sentence started sinking him deeper into his mind like a blade.
"He made her..." Henry whispered to himself, his voice was more like a growl.
He slammed the diary shut, his knuckles white as he clenched it in his hand.
The desk in front of him groaned under the weight of his fist as he slammed it down.
The sound reverberated through the room, startling a servant who passed outside the door.
"Konrad," Henry muttered.
He rose from his chair, pacing the length of the office like a caged lion.
Henry was walking as if he could somehow burn off the rage coursing through his veins.
Forcing her to throw up.
Hurting her.
When she was just a child.
When she was vulnerable.
Henry’s vision blurred for a moment as the anger overtook him.
The image of Konrad flashed in his mind—a smug, entitled man who had once dared to call himself a cousin of Eira.
"That bastard," Henry snarled. "He dared to lay his hands on her. To humiliate her like this."
He reached for his phone and dialed quickly, his fingers trembled.
"Mr. Blackwood," a calm voice answered on the other end.
"Mike," Henry said in a sharp and demanding voice.
"I want everything you have on Konrad. Every dirty deal, every skeleton in his closet. I want to know where he sleeps, who he talks to, and what he eats for breakfast."
"Yes, sir. I’ll—"
"And I don’t care what it takes," Henry interrupted. "I want him ruined. Not just financially. I want him to suffer. Do you understand me?"
Mike hesitated for only a second before replying, "Understood. I’ll start immediately."
Henry ended the call without another word, throwing the phone onto the desk.
He stared out the window, his hands rested on the edge of the glass as he tried to steady his breathing.
The anger wasn’t just about Konrad. It was about himself.
He had failed to protect her.
He had been too caught up in his own games, his own schemes, to see what was happening to his daughter.
His daughter, who had suffered silently, who had been hurt by someone he should have protected her from.
"No more," Henry muttered. His reflection in the glass was cold, unrecognizable.
A knock at the door broke through his thoughts. "Come in," he barked.
A servant entered hesitantly. "Sir, is everything alright? You—"
"Get out," Henry snapped.
The man retreated immediately, leaving Henry alone once more.
He grabbed the diary again, his hands were shaking but not from weakness but from the sheer force of his emotions.
"Throw up the food she ate," Henry repeated aloud, not being able to believe that. "While Marion was in the hospital."
His thoughts turned to Marion—another failure, another life he hadn’t saved but got rid of instead.
She had been too ill, too consumed by her own battle, to notice what was happening to Eira. And even if she had noticed, what could she have done?
"Good that I killed her."
Henry’s phone buzzed on the desk, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He picked it up and saw Mike’s name.
"Talk," Henry said as he answered.
"I have preliminary information on Konrad," Alex began. "Nothing good, as you suspected. Tax fraud, shady business dealings, and a series of complaints from former employees. If we expose even half of it, he’s finished."
"Not enough," Henry growled. "I want personal dirt. Something that will make him wish he was never born."
"I’ll keep digging," Mike promised. "But if I may, sir—what’s the endgame here? Are we talking public humiliation or something more... direct?"
Henry’s voice dropped to a lower level. "I want him destroyed. His name, his reputation, his entire existence. He doesn’t get to walk away from what he did to my daughter."
"Understood," Mike replied.
Henry ended the call and tossed the phone aside once more.
He paced the office again.
Wanting to confront Konrad, to grab him by the collar and make him confess to every despicable act he had committed.
But not yet.
He needed to be calculated.
This wasn’t just about revenge; it was about making sure Konrad never had the power to hurt anyone again.
"Eira will never know this pain again," Henry vowed.
For now, he would wait. But when the time came, Konrad would pay for every ounce of suffering he had inflicted.
Henry returned to his desk, opening the diary once more.
He couldn’t stop reading, even though every word felt like a knife to the chest.
Today, I hid under the bed when I heard him coming. I didn’t want him to see me. I didn’t want to hear him yell. But he found me. He always finds me.
Henry’s fist slammed against the desk again. "You won’t find her again," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Not while I’m still breathing."
And with that, he picked up his phone once more, dialing a new number.
"It’s time to meet," he said when the line connected.
"Who’s the target?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Konrad."
Visit freewe𝑏n(o)v𝒆l.𝑐𝘰𝑚 for the best novel reading experience
