Sorry Daddy, I'm Not Spare Parts for Her! - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

The moment I stepped out of the car at the Foster mansion's entrance, the changed landscape made me pause. Everything felt... wrong.
Growing up, all the other kids envied me. No matter how swamped Dad was with work, he never missed my birthday, always remembered my favorite things, brought back gifts from business trips, and would even put aside time to play with me in the gardens.
But when Uncle Ethan officially took over Foster Corporation, my father got trapped in that fire... and never came home.
I was just a kid back then. I actually believed it was an accident.
Lost and alone, I clung to Uncle Ethan like he was my lifeline. With Grandpa paying him no attention, I stupidly thought we were two lonely souls who needed each other.
"Come in," Ethan's voice snapped me back to the present. "I've been waiting."
He led me through the grand living room up to his third-floor study. "You must be hungry. I told the staff to make your favorite fettuccine alfredo. After you eat—"
I cut him off. "Enough. Did you kill my father?"
Ethan didn't even flinch at my interruption. His dark eyes held something unreadable. "What if I did? What would you do with that truth?"
My lips curled into a cold smile. "I'd see you in court. And trust me, I wouldn't hold back."
For the first time, the man who never believed in karma wondered if divine retribution was real.
"It wasn't him," Grandpa Foster's voice came from the doorway. "Your father's death was just... tragic coincidence."
His aged eyes softened as they landed on me. "Ava, you've grown so much since last year."
Everyone knew I was adopted, but Grandpa had always treated me like his own blood—giving me more love than any Foster heir could ask for. He was too old now to be dragged into this mess between Ethan and me.
"Grandpa," I said firmly, "I want my own place. I'm an adult now—it's not right for me to stay under Uncle Ethan's roof anymore."
Ethan's hand shot out, fingers digging into my wrist. "You're really leaving me?" His voice cracked.
Grandpa's disapproving cough cut through the tension. "Ethan. Boundaries. Ava's a grown woman now—she comes and goes as she pleases. That's final."
With the family patriarch's decree, Ethan had no choice but to let go.
That night, thunder rumbled outside Ethan's window as he lay awake. The storm mirrored the chaos in his mind. The comic's plot might be fiction, but my reactions... those were painfully real.
He remembered how I used to crawl into his bed during thunderstorms as a child, too scared to sleep alone. Over the years, those nights had lasted longer... become something else. He'd tried to convince himself he loved someone else, lied so thoroughly he'd almost believed it himself.
Tossing in his silk sheets, Ethan finally caved. He reached for his phone—only to discover I'd blocked his number. Frantic, he tried every messaging app, each one returning the same cold rejection.
By morning, my phone was blowing up. Ninety-nine missed calls. A flood of texts. The final message made my blood run cold:
"Miss Foster, Mr. Foster is hospitalized—alcohol poisoning. He won't stop calling your name. Please... he needs you."