For a moment, Mr. Ye just stared at me like he'd heard me wrong.
Couldn't blame him. A kid the same age as his daughter just pointed at his ex-wife and said, That's my partner.
I stepped forward, casually sliding a hand over Alice's shoulder. "Ms. Ting heard Alice was coming to meet you today. She didn't feel comfortable sending her alone, so she asked me to come along."
Then I turned my attention to the girl sitting beside him—the one who looked like she moonlighted as a runway model.
"when she heard you might bring someone new… well, after twenty years of marriage, she knows how your brain works."
Mr. Ye blinked. His hands tightened on the porcelain teacup.
Alice shot me a stunned glance, but quickly masked it, keeping her posture cool and composed so the act wouldn't slip.
Mister Ye on the other hand stood eyes widened in shock.
He pointed at me, fingers trembling like his brain couldn't process the words fast enough. "You expect me to believe this guy is your mother's new boyfriend?"
she said coolly. "This is Liam."
Mr. Ye stared at me like I'd just told him the sky was green. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "You're telling me this guy is your mother's new boyfriend?"
Alice gave a tight, neutral smile but said nothing else. Her silence only made it worse.
Mr. Ye squinted at me. "Alright then. How exactly did you two meet?"
I leaned back a little, relaxed. "Parent-teacher conference."
That threw him. He blinked. "What?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding like it was the most natural thing in the world. "She showed up for Alice. We got to talking. I liked how she carried herself—classy, confident, not like the usual stuck-up types. So I asked her out."
He scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?"
"I mean, why not? Look at her," I said with a small grin. "Woman like that walks into a room, you either trip over your own tongue or you do something about it. Me? I wasn't going to let something that precious slip away from me.
Mr. Ye's expression shifted—offended, but still trying to stay composed.
"And I gotta say," I added with just the right edge in my voice, "whoever she was with before? Clearly didn't know how to appreciate her. Body like that? C'mon. You don't let a woman like her walk away unless you're either an idiot or too distracted chasing someone half your age."
That hit. Hard. The model next to him shifted uncomfortably. Mr. Ye's eyes darkened.
But I wasn't done.
"She's has this little bird tattoo, too," I added casually. "High upon her inner thigh. Took me by surprise the first time, honestly—but it suits her. Subtle, personality.
Alice glanced at me sharply, but didn't say a word.
Mr. Ye froze.
Truth is, Alice had told me about it ahead of time—just in case her dad grilled me for proof. Even showed me a few old photos of her mom so I could sell the story harder if it came to that.
But sitting across from him, watching the disbelief build behind his eyes, I figured… why wait to be asked?
Might as well lean in.
Mr. Ye looked like he'd been hit with a tranquilizer dart. He stared at me, pale, stunned, completely out of breath.
Then he gripped the edge of the table for support.
The young lady beside him rushed over.
"Careful, honey," she said, steadying him.
He regained his footing, then shot a sharp look at Alice. "And you're fine with this? Your mother dating someone the same age as her daughter? It's disgusting."
Alice didn't blink. Her voice was cold, controlled. "With all due respect, Dad, I don't think you have a say in this."
She took a step forward. "You abandoned your family to run off with a younger woman. As far as I'm concerned, this is all on you."
His hands twitched like he wanted to throw something.
Eventually we all sat down, the tension practically vibrating off the teak walls. Mr. Ye moved like he had sandbags on his shoulders—slow, stiff, trying too hard to keep his pride intact. Lin hovered beside him like a well-trained ornament.
I leaned back in my seat, glancing at the pristine table setting, then at Alice, who hadn't stopped staring straight ahead, jaw tight. I could tell she was already bracing herself.
I, on the other hand, was trying to remember
the original reason this dinner is even taking place.
Mr. Ye and Ms. Ting had been high school sweethearts. Classic story—young love, promises, dreams bigger than either of them could hold. Back then, Mr. Ye worked nights at a convenience store while she chased down jobs and scraped together enough to put herself through college.
He stayed static.
She didn't.
Ms. Ting had clawed her way up—no family money, no investors, just work. She built her fashion empire one design at a time until the Ye name was tied to one of the most powerful clothing brands in the city. And through it all, he stayed resentful. Hiding it at first, then wearing it openly once he realized her success made him look small.
He was jealous. Pathetic, even.
Eventually, it wasn't enough to be bitter in silence—he had to prove something. So he burned through her money and slept with some second-rate actress barely older than Alice.
People like to say money changes people. But in this case, it just exposed who he always was.
They got divorced. He walked away with scraps—legally entitled, sure, but still barely a percentage of what she built. And now, with barely anything left, he was angling for a second shot at the wealth.
Ms. Ting, for her part, didn't crumble in front of him. She waited until he was gone.
Then she worked herself into the ground trying to forget the man who betrayed her.
Alice had told me that much. The hospital bed. The fainting spells. The company board panicking behind closed doors. The only reason she agreed to this dinner was because she already knew what it was—one last desperate pitch from a man who'd lost everything.
Mr. Ye finally broke the silence.
"Look," he started, tone oily but rehearsed, "I know what this looks like. But I'm still your father, Alice. And I was there. At the start. When none of this existed yet, it was me and your mother. I supported her. Helped her build what she has now."
Alice didn't flinch. "You mean back when you were working at a gas station and she was designing dresses on printer paper in our kitchen?"
His face twitched. "That work mattered. It kept the lights on."
"You also spent half her first bonus check on a karaoke machine."
That one shut him up for a second.
He regrouped. "I'm not saying I didn't mess up. But this family was built by both of us. I was there every step. Doesn't that count for something?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Counts for exactly what the court awarded you in the divorce, I'd say."
Alice's eyes flicked toward me, just for a moment. She didn't smile, but I could see her exhale—just a little.
Mr. Ye shot me a glare, but pressed on. "It's not about money. I'm just saying I deserve some recognition. Some respect. You can't erase history, Alice."
"You erased yourself the day you moved into that penthouse with a woman barely out of college," she said flatly.
Lin looked like she was trying very hard to look small.
He sighed, exasperated. "I'm just saying—your mother wouldn't be where she is without me. I was the first person to believe in her."
I chuckled. "Yeah? And then you turned around and tried to drown her with her own success. Real supportive."
He shot me a dirty look. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know enough,"
He scoffed. "I built this family. I was there when she had nothing. Don't act like I don't have a stake in any of it."
"You didn't build anything. You stood still while she built an empire around you."
"I was working every day to support us."
"You were working night shifts at a gas station while she was juggling part-time jobs, teaching herself design, sewing her first collection at the kitchen table, and paying the bills—
not to mention putting herself through college on top of all that."
Mr. Ye's mouth twitched, but no words came out.
"You resented her the moment she outgrew you," Alice said. "And when you finally had a chance to prove you weren't just dead weight, you blew it on cheap watches and a B-list actress."
Lin looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
He leaned forward, desperate now. "I made mistakes, fine. But I've been here since the beginning. Doesn't that count for something? I supported her when no one else did."
"No," Alice said. "You clung to her until she outgrew the version of you who felt like a man just because she needed your paycheck. Then you hated her for becoming everything you never had the courage to be."
Mr. Ye opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked around like he was trying to find something to throw.
I cleared my throat. "Look, I get it. It's a rough spot. Watching someone you underestimated for two decades thrive without you. Hurts."
He glared at me. "And you think you're any better?"
I smiled mildly. "I don't have to be. I'm not the one begging my daughter to help me scrape back some of the money I lost chasing validation."
He shifted, trying to push back emotionally, but Alice cut him off.
"You didn't come here to apologize. You came here to convince me to give you a piece of what's left. And I'm telling you—don't count on it."
He stared at her, stunned. "So that's it?"
"That's it."
Mr. Ye slumped back in his seat. His breathing was shallow now, and Lin moved closer again, trying to help him sit straighter.
"You brought this on yourself," Alice said quietly. "Whatever happens from here—it's your consequence to live with."
He looked like he aged five years right there at the table.
Alice stood. "We're done here."
I followed, pushing my chair back slowly, deliberately. "Good talk, Uncle. Stay hydrated."
And with that, we left him behind—his pride cracked, his scheme collapsed, and every ounce of leverage he can use on Alice burned to ash.