Sorry Daddy, I'm Not Spare Parts for Her! - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

The moment I stepped into the study, Ethan wrapped his arms around me from behind.
"Let me go, Ethan Foster."
His grip tightened. "What did you just call me? Say 'father' again."
My voice turned icy. "If Luna were still alive in this world, would you still be draining my bone marrow?"
"Fiction isn't reality, Ava." He exhaled sharply. "I don't even know why I went to that hellhole or why I hurt you. I'm... I'm sorry."
But I'd heard his inner monologue in the novel's world. Even now, he couldn't be fully honest. Only Ethan knew how much of this apology was genuine.
"Really? Well, I'm exhausted." I stared at the sunlight fracturing through the window. "If you actually regret anything, let me leave."
Ethan froze. It hit him then—he hadn't really looked at me in ages. The baby fat was gone from my cheeks, my frame too thin, but my eyes burned with resolve. His Ava had changed.
Luna was gone forever. He'd be damned if he lost me too.
"No." His voice dropped to a warning growl. "Don't ask again."
I stepped back, my tone flat yet razor-sharp. "What if I could bring Luna back? Would you let me go then?"
The novel's plot wanted to control me, but I held the pen now.
Luna had only crossed my path once, but she deserved more than tragedy. She deserved to thrive. And Ethan? His reach was endless. If I ran, he'd hunt me to the ends of the earth.
I needed his willing surrender.
Silence stretched. I could practically hear Ethan's internal debate: Had he ever truly loved Luna, or just the guilt? His broken engagement had triggered her parents' fatal crash, her family's ruin, her cancer diagnosis. His stubbornness had nearly destroyed both women who'd loved him.
I left him to his thoughts.
Later, I poured my savings into a comic studio. Opening day exploded with more buzz than I'd dreamed—business calls flooding in, the sheer coincidence raising my hackles.
So when Ethan emerged from a meeting and spotted me, his hopeful grin made my blood boil.
"Ava. You've reconsidered?"
I waited until the crowd dispersed. Then my palm cracked across his face.
"Stay out of my life, Ethan Foster!"
He blinked, jogging after me. "Ava, wait—"
"Explain what? That you can't stand me being independent?" I whirled on him. "Who gave you the right to control my career? After everything, how am I supposed to trust you?"
His expression shifted—surprise, then dawning horror.
"You think I had something to do with your father's death?"
"Tonight. Foster Mansion." My nails bit into my palms. "You'll show me the truth. Your choice whether I come alone."
The unspoken threat hung between us like a blade.