Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 462: I am not your shield anymore

Anna drove to Bennett’s Enterprise and headed straight for Hugo’s office, her chest tight with a feeling she couldn’t name. The urgency in her mother’s call had left no room for hesitation.

She found Roseline sitting beside Hugo on the couch.

The second Roseline noticed her, she rose and walked toward her. "Look, Anna—look at what has happened to your father," she said, her voice trembling, her worried eyes darting back to Hugo. "Daniel and his aunt have destroyed him."

Hugo sat with his head lowered, his shoulders slumped in a way Anna had never seen before. The man who once filled every room with his presence now looked... defeated.

"Dad?" Anna whispered.

Slowly, Hugo lifted his head.

There was something restless in his eyes—something that made Anna’s breath hitch. It wasn’t grief. It was need.

"Anna, my child," he said softly.

The words alone stunned her.

He stood and walked toward her, taking her hands in his. His grip was gentle, but it felt suffocating, as if she were being pulled into something she couldn’t escape.

Her fingers twitched in his hold.

"I knew you would come," he said, his voice hoarse, fragile in a way she had never heard before. "I knew you wouldn’t be able to see your father like this... helpless."

Even Roseline froze for a second.

She had never seen Hugo speak to Anna like this—not with softness, not with vulnerability. But then reality settled in.

He only ever acted this way when he needed something.

Roseline’s eyes hardened, but she said nothing. This was not the time to expose Hugo’s weakness when everything was already slipping through their fingers.

So when Hugo continued his performance, she remained silent.

Hugo tightened his grip slightly, his thumbs brushing over Anna’s knuckles in a fatherly gesture that felt rehearsed.

"They are taking everything from me," he continued. "The board is turning against me. Investors are pulling out. My name is being dragged through the mud."

Anna swallowed. "Dad... I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was this bad."

"Of course you didn’t," he said quickly. "I didn’t want to burden you. You’ve always had such a soft heart." He smiled faintly. "Just like your mother."

Roseline flinched at that, but Hugo didn’t stop.

"I don’t need much," he added quietly. "Just your support. Your presence. If the media sees my daughter standing by me, if the partners know I still have my family’s trust... things can stabilize."

Anna looked at him, confusion clouding her face. "You want me to... what? Give interviews?"

"Just a few appearances," he said smoothly. "Come to meetings. Let them see you. Let them believe in me again."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"You’re the only one who can save this company now, Anna. You are the only one who can convince Daniel to spare me this time"

The words hit her like a weight on her chest.

Roseline watched it all unfold—the way Anna’s eyes softened, the way her shoulders slumped in surrender.

Hugo wasn’t asking for help.

He was transferring his burden onto her.

And Anna, staring at the man she thought she knew, felt like she was suddenly seeing a stranger— One who wore a father’s face, but spoke with a businessman’s hunger.

Hugo smirked internally. He knew manipulating Anna was as easy as controlling a loyal dog.

She had always been that way—too forgiving, too eager to please. She would stand for family, sacrifice herself for them, and in return, all she ever wanted was their love.

I don’t mind pretending for now, he thought coldly. After all, she’s always craved her father’s affection.

And that foolish girl had given it freely, every single time.

Seconds passed.

Anna remained silent, her eyes fixed on Hugo. His carefully crafted expression of weakness began to falter. He was never good at pretending—he relied on others to play their parts, not himself.

The longer she stayed quiet, the more his act unraveled.

Finally, she spoke.

"What if I say I won’t?" Her voice was calm, but the words hit like a slap. "That I won’t help you."

Hugo’s hand slipped from hers.

Roseline frowned, her brows knitting in disbelief.

"You are refusing your father?" Hugo asked, stunned, though anger already shimmered behind his eyes.

Anna slowly looked at her mother, who seemed just as shocked—though Anna knew better. Roseline had played her part perfectly before. How could they expect her not to see through it now?

"Father?" Anna repeated softly, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "What father? The one who never once cared to ask how I was? The one who remembered my existence only when he needed something?"

Silence filled the room.

"I spent my entire childhood trying to be good enough for you," she continued, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed. "Top grades. Perfect behavior. Never complained. Never rebelled. I thought if I became everything you wanted, hide my pain, maybe one day you’d look at me and actually see your daughter."

Her eyes burned, but no tears fell.

"But you never did."

Hugo opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him.

"You weren’t absent, Dad. You were worse—you were present enough to use me, but never enough to love me. Every hug had a reason. Every kind word had a price."

Roseline shifted uncomfortably.

"You call this family?" Anna laughed softly, hollow. "You call this love? Because all I ever felt was like an investment. Something you kept around in case it became useful."

She stepped back from Hugo, finally freeing herself from his reach.

"So don’t stand there and look at me like I owe you anything," she said, her voice steady now. "You raised me to believe love had to be earned. And I spent my whole life paying for something you never intended to give."

Hugo stared at her, his expression darkening.

"I’m not your shield anymore," Anna added quietly. "I won’t beg Daniel for you. I won’t save your company. And I definitely won’t pretend you were ever the father I needed."

For the first time in her life, Anna felt light.

Not because she had won— but because she had finally stopped trying to be loved by people who never truly cared.