A 6-year-old girl was dragged into the courtyard by her stepmother and her lover just after returning from her father’s funeral. There, under the pretext of warding off bad luck, they poured a bucket of cold water over her head. The little girl, clutching her teddy bear, trembled from head to toe in front of what had been her home. Suddenly, a luxury car screeched to a halt in front of the gate. A wealthy man got out.

He covered the girl’s shoulders with his coat and uttered a single sentence that sparked the confrontation in which the evildoers would be forced to pay for their actions.

The wooden gate closed behind the group who had just returned from the cemetery. The house was so quiet that the ticking of the grandfather clock resonated like the blow of a heavy hammer. Six-year-old Sofia Castillo clutched a worn teddy bear to her chest, her eyes red and swollen from crying. That bear was the last gift her mother had given her before she died in a car accident years ago.

And now her father, Ricardo Castillo, a successful businessman and loving father, had just passed away after a long illness. Inside the enormous house, Sofía felt so small she couldn’t breathe. Carmen Ruiz, 35 years old. The woman who had entered that house just two years earlier as her stepmother. She had spent the morning in the cemetery pretending to sleep and wiping away tears that didn’t exist. But the moment the door closed, her face changed completely, turning cold and sharp.

Her eyes fell on Sofia without the slightest trace of compassion, as if looking at an irritating obstacle. Sofia whispered, her voice trembling. “Can I clean the house for you, Mom?” Carmen turned, let out a bitter laugh, and snapped in a tone laced with arrogance. “From now on, I’m the owner of this house, the one who makes the decisions. Don’t you dare pretend to be innocent to earn my pity.” Sofia froze, hugging the bear tighter, her tiny fingers digging into the threadbare fabric.

At that moment, the door opened. A man entered, dragging a suitcase, which he dropped heavily on the floor. It was 38-year-old Roberto Ponce, Ricardo’s younger brother. To many, Roberto was nothing more than a playboy who had spent his life in his brother’s shadow. However, today he walked in with a confidence that suggested the house had always belonged to him. Roberto sank into a chair, uncorked a bottle of whiskey already on the table, and took a long drink.

Then she looked Sofia up and down and spat on the ground. “Hello, Sofia. From now on, I’ll be here taking your useless father’s place.” Sofia recoiled, stuttering. “Dude, why are you in my dad’s house? This is my dad’s house.” Carmen turned to her, her voice sharp and cruel, each word hitting the girl like a slap in the face. “Your father is dead, do you understand? In this house, I’m the one who decides, and my man now is Roberto.”

From this moment on, you have no right to speak here. Either you shut up or you leave. Sofia was stunned, her eyes filling with tears. Roberto burst into a scornful laugh, his shrill voice dripping with mockery. Look at you, just a pathetic little parasite who knows nothing but to cry and cling to that ragged bear. Your father was a fool to indulge you so much, and now you think you’re some kind of princess, or rather, a ruined princess. In this house, you’re nothing but a nuisance, a burden everyone wants to be rid of.

Sofia trembled, clutching her teddy bear tighter. I’ll be good, I won’t be a nuisance. Suddenly, Carmen jumped to her feet, cruelty flashing in her eyes. She grabbed Sofia by the arm and grabbed the small suitcase, which already contained a few worn clothes. The teddy bear was ripped from Sofia’s arms and thrown into the yard. Carmen stormed out with a bucket of cold water. Get out of my house. I’m sick of pretending to be your kind mother.

You’re a troublemaking brat. Your father died. Your mother died. It’s all your fault. I need to wash away the filth you’re carrying. Little girl. Just looking at you gives me the creeps, let alone having you living under my roof. Sofia gasped in terror. No, Mom, please. I’m so cold. I promise I’ll be good. I won’t speak again. Carmen gritted her teeth. You’re not my flesh and blood. Don’t you dare call me Mom. I’ll never accept a useless parasite like you. I don’t want to see your face in this house.

Not a second more. Go away! He threw the bucket of cold water directly at Sofia. The water soaked her hair and clothes, soaking her to the bone, until she began to shiver uncontrollably. The teddy bear lay soaked on the floor, crushed under Roberto’s shoe, who crossed his arms and sneered. Look at her, she’s no different from a stray puppy. It fits her perfectly. Sofia clasped her hands, her eyes wide open, in a desperate plea for help.

Some neighbors watched from a distance, but as soon as their eyes met hers, they quickly closed their doors and turned away. No one dared to intervene. Sofia collapsed on the floor, clutching the ruined teddy bear, her tears mixing with the icy water on her cheeks. Her hoarse voice broke the silence of the night. “Daddy, where am I supposed to go now?” At that moment, the sound of an engine resounded. A sleek Cadilac stopped right in front of the gate.

The door opened and a man stepped out. He was wearing a dark suit. His eyes were sharp, but full of shock. He stood motionless, watching the scene beyond the door. A 6-year-old girl huddled in the yard, soaked to the bone, her eyes red-rimmed, clutching an old toy as if it were her last lifeline. Her gaze betrayed a pain she couldn’t hide. The man clenched his fist, and in that moment, memories of his own abandoned childhood came flooding back.

He took a step forward, his voice thick with emotion. What’s going on here? The man was Alejandro Vargas, 40, a self-made millionaire, often featured in financial magazines like Forbes, Fortune, and the New York Times. He had built a real estate empire spanning several states, known as a cold-blooded business strategist, but private about his private life. Few knew that behind that glamorous image, he carried a wounded, abandoned childhood. Having once lived in fear of his stepfather’s violence and his own mother’s neglect, the gate opened, and Alejandro Vargas entered the rain-soaked yard, paralyzed.

The jacket of his dark suit moved slightly in the wind as he moved forward. His face was sharp, his eyes still stunned by the sight of a little girl drenched in cold water, shivering in the middle of the courtyard. Alejandro slowly removed his coat and placed it over Sofia’s shoulders. The small body underneath shivered under the warmth that still lingered in the fabric. Sofia looked up, her tear-stained eyes shining with a fragile hope. Her small hand clutched the hem of his coat as if afraid it might disappear.

Alejandro gently squeezed her shoulder, then lifted his head. His voice came out, each word pressed with suppressed anger. Ricardo has been dead for less than a day. Is this how they treat their daughter? Carmen blinked, her shoulders trembling slightly. A single fake tear rolled down her cheek. Her voice trembled, though it carried an icy edge. You’ve misunderstood, Alejandro. I only wanted to teach her to obey, to behave politely. The child is stubborn, disrespectful to her uncle. I was just scaring her a little.

For illustrative purpose only

Roberto let out a mocking laugh and blew cigarette smoke in his direction. “I’m his uncle. I suggest you stop interfering in family matters. You’re already late to the funeral, and now you want to play the hero. This is none of your business, so stay out of it.” A cold glint flickered in Alejandro’s eyes. Memories flooded his mind. At 15, it was Ricardo, the same friend now lying underground, who pulled him from under the table where he hid from his stepfather’s beatings, after nights of beatings.

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