Episode 1

One day after a car accident, I woke up in an unfamiliar room, sharing a bed with a man I had never seen before. He was sound asleep beside me, not moving at all. Out of curiosity, I took a closer look at him and realized he was a huge and intimidating man. At that moment, I was terrified because I had no idea what was going on. Wasn't I supposed to be in the hospital after my recent accident? Why was I half-dressed in bed with a shirtless man?

Well, let's start from the beginning. My name is Hideaki Hashimoto, and this is my story. I am the only son of business magnate Isaishi Nakamura. My father founded several companies and amassed a great fortune, so one could say I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was a privileged human being; my parents were loving, and they were an excellent couple, always taking care of me and showing love. However, when I was 15, my mother passed away. Out of nowhere, a woman showed up at our door asking:

"Is Isaishi home?"

"Who are you?"

"Tell him I'm Aoi Watanabe."

After hearing this, I went straight to my father and relayed the woman's words. Seeing my father's expression change — he paled and sat down quickly with a lengthy sigh — was unsettling. Then he said:

"Son, tell that woman to come in."

"Yes, father."

I went to the door and let the woman in, only then noticing she wasn't alone; she was accompanied by a boy around 9 or 10 years old. The boy glared at me with anger and followed the woman inside. I ushered them into the living room, and after a few minutes, my father emerged and said:

"Son, go to your room. I have to talk to her about something important."

"Yes, father."

I went upstairs, but instead of entering my room, I stayed perched on the banister, trying to eavesdrop out of sheer curiosity, unaware that this would change my life.

Despite being near the edge of the banister, I couldn't hear a thing. However, I saw my father's face showing a mix of anger and impatience. That's when I remembered the spy kit my father gave me at 10 — I still had it in my room. I retrieved it and, after about a minute and a half of searching, found a small antenna that could pick up conversations from a distance. I grabbed it, hurried back to the banister, placed it there, put on the headphones, and adjusted the antenna to intercept the signal.

The moment I activated the microphone antenna, I could vividly hear their conversation. First, my father's voice:

"How can you be so sure that child is mine?"

At those words, rage rippled through me. Were they talking about the boy accompanying the woman? Had my father been unfaithful, resulting in a child from the affair? I couldn't fully grasp the situation because, despite being older, I was still a teenager and didn't have the maturity to comprehend what was unfolding.

Nevertheless, I continued listening to gather more details. After my father spoke, the woman responded:

"How can you deny it when you knew very well that I got pregnant after that time? I told you a million times, and you just ignored me, leaving me with our son."

"Don't play me for a fool. I know full well I wasn't the only one spending nights at your place; many of my friends were also 'guests' of yours. So don't try to pass off this kid as mine; I wasn't the only one, so start looking for his father elsewhere because I'm certain he isn't mine."

"Don't fabricate events that didn't happen. I was only with you. In contrast, you were with your wife and me simultaneously."

"Yes, I accept my mistake. I left my beloved wife for someone as low as you, and due to that mistake, my wife despised me until her last breath."

"That's not my fault. If she hated you, that's your problem. You weren't forced to cheat with me, were you?"

"That's true, no one forced me. But as I said before, I wasn't the only one in your bed. So don't come dumping someone else's child on me."

"If you don't believe me, do a DNA test. I'm so sure he's your son that I don't care about the truth. Go ahead and check for yourself."

"I will because I won't fall for another one of your tricks—I know you were the one who told my wife about my infidelity."

"She had the right to know that her husband wasn't a saint, and that he isn't a father of one, but two—and you'll have to split your inheritance between them."

"I know you did that to push her away from me. But it's your fault she died. If you hadn't told her at that moment, she wouldn't have been in that car accident."

"I didn't know, but to be honest, I don't care. I'm here to claim my son's rights. If you didn't want a child, you should have taken precautions. And if you didn't want your precious wife to hate you, you shouldn't have been unfaithful. That's your fault, not mine."

"Yes, I am to blame. Because of my stupidity, and as I said, the mistake I made with you, my family fell apart and my son lost his mother."

"Stop acting like the victim. My son grew up without a father and he's fine. Your son grew up with everything, and he received enough attention as a child, so he's not the victim here."

"Regardless, my son is still just a child and will continue to be one until he is of age. He still needed his

mother in his life, and due to your stupid outburst, he lost her."

"Fine, let's say it was all my fault, but I'm here to discuss the piece of the pie my son is entitled to, because he's also yours. If you don't believe me, get him tested. I don't care because I know he's your son. Once you're certain, contact me to negotiate our agreement. You'll have to provide support and a share of your company because he's your son."

"Very well, I'll get the paternity test done. If the results are positive, I'll contact you. If they're negative, you better never show your face here again; if he really is my son, I'll give him a monthly allowance and leave a part of my company as inheritance, but for him alone, not a cent for you—I know you're a leech that latches on wherever there's money. Everything I leave will be for him, not you."

"Fine, I look forward to your call. See you."

After overhearing the conversation, I was filled with sadness and fury. I hated my father for what he did to my mother and hated that woman for being the cause of my mother's accident; she wasn't directly responsible, but she delivered the news that made my mother lose control of her car.

Once the woman left, I confronted my father and asked why he betrayed her. He said, "I see you heard everything."

"Yes, I heard every horrible word."

"I'm sorry, son. I didn't want you to find out this way."

"You didn't want me to find out at all, but thanks to that woman I know what you did, and what she did to my mom."

"I know I don't deserve yours or your mother's forgiveness. It was a mistake, I didn't want all this to happen."

"People rarely wish ill on someone they betray, yet something bad always happens—an example being my mom."

"I'm truly sorry, son."

"Apologies don't change that my mother died, or that you cheated and had a child with that woman."

"I'm not certain the child is mine."

"I don't trust you or that woman. However, if he is your son, he is innocent. The culprits are you two."

"The child might be guiltless, but I'm not sure he's mine—she was with many at once and I wasn't exclusive to her, so I stand by my thoughts."

"I don't care how many men she saw or your relations with her; it disgusts and angers me, knowing what you did to my mom."

"I know she was a wonderful woman and mother, and a caring wife."

"If she had all those traits, why betray her?"

"I was tired of the monotony, wanted to break from routine, and she helped me."

"So you were bored and couldn't communicate? Instead, you chose betrayal. That's not love."

"You're young, you wouldn't understand."

"Don't treat me like a little kid. I may not grasp life fully, but one thing I know: love doesn't betray. If you loved mom, you wouldn't have done it. You didn't love us, me, or the family. Love is not just about affection; it's about respect, support, and communication, which you failed to provide, preferring another woman over my mother's feelings."

"I've apologized, and there's no point to continue this."

"Nor do I wish to continue because I realize I'm speaking with someone who doesn't grasp life. You may be older, and my father, but you don't understand anything."

"I'll indulge you because I don't want to fight."

"I intend not to argue either, but let me be clear: I won't live in this house anymore. If you claim to be a good father, send me to study abroad, anywhere, I don't want to stay."

"I decide, you're underage, and you'll stay if I want it."

"Prefer an insolent coexistence? Because I assure you, it will remain, I can't stand you anymore. Knowing you betrayed my mother makes me distrust and hate you."

"That doesn't concern me, families argue."

"We're no family now. We were a family with my mother alive, but not anymore."

"Stop being stubborn. Pretend it never happened."

"You think it's easy to forget, especially when it caused my mother's death?"

"Just listen."

"I'll ask kindly once more—if you wish me to call you 'father,' send me away. If I stay, my anger and resentment will grow to an unbearable point, and I won't be able to stay under the same roof or country as you."

"I'll let you go if you promise to call me 'father' upon your return."

"I promise—at least, I don't break my promises. Rest assured, father, that when I return, I'll address you the same way."

"Alright, I'll arrange a school, and once I've found the right place, I'll send you there."

"Thank you."

After the talk, I retreated to my room, locked the door, crawled under the covers, and began to cry. I wasn't sure why tears streamed uncontrollably, but it relieved the weight of my anger and frustration. Had I stayed in the living room, I don't know what I might have done, but thankfully he agreed to let me go. Months later, I escaped that golden prison to my freedom, nearly forgetting what happened—harboring no intense grudge against my father or that woman and tried to live as my mother would have wished, without vengeful thoughts, just living my life.

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