Chloe barely blinked, barely breathed past the sting behind her father's words.
"And who might you be?"
Not recognition.
Not acknowledgment.
Just cold, distant, detached.
Like she hadn't been his daughter.
Like she hadn't left six years ago with a decision that shattered everything.
Her fingers curled slightly.
Tears burned at the edge of her vision, threatening, pressing—but she didn't let them fall.
She wouldn't.
Not in front of him.
Not when he was standing there, acting like he didn't know her.
Not when this wasn't just dismissal—this was punishment.
Her voice was sharp when she responded.
"You know who I am."
Her father barely shifted, barely reacted.
"Do I?"
Chloe inhaled sharply, jaw tightening.
"Don't do this."
Her father exhaled slowly, adjusting his cuff, gaze unwavering.
"I don't do anything unnecessary, Chloe."
She stiffened.
Because she knew what he meant.
Knew that if he was pretending she was nothing more than a guest, it wasn't unnecessary—it was intentional.
Her nails dug into her palm, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
"You were always strict."
The words came out harder than expected.
"You never let me breathe, never let me decide, never let me—"
Her voice clipped off.
She didn't mean to say it like that.
Didn't mean for it to sound like blame.
Because she knew.
Knew he had reasons.
Knew he was strict because he loved her, because she was wild, because she was free in ways only he allowed her to be.
Because she was hidden.
A Redgrave daughter the world didn't know.
Sheltered, protected, given everything—except the one thing she wanted most.
The ability to leave.
To go far.
To prove herself.
And now?
Now she wasn't sure what she had actually proven.
Her father inhaled slowly, gaze unwavering.
Then—calm, deliberate, edged in something dangerously unreadable.
"And look where your decisions got you."
She inhaled sharply, pulse pounding against her ribs.
She wanted to argue.
Wanted to fight.
Wanted to lash out, shove back, prove she was right—but for the first time since she stepped inside, doubt crept in.
Because what if she was wrong?
What if she never really understood the way her absence had carved through him?
What if this wasn't just discipline—this was grief disguised as distance?
Her throat tightened.
Her father exhaled lightly, gaze steady, unwavering.
Then—a shift. Just a flicker. Just a moment.
Chloe saw it.
Saw the way his fingers curled slightly before flexing back to control.
Saw the way his breathing wasn't as even as he wanted it to be.
Saw the way he wasn't unaffected, wasn't indifferent, wasn't just standing here untouched.
Because the truth?
He had been bleeding since the day she left.
And yet—he wouldn't let her see it.
Wouldn't let her know just how deep it ran.
Wouldn't let this reunion be easy.
And Chloe?
She didn't bend.
Not yet.