Billionaire Daughter Humiliates Manager Who Bullied Her Dishwasher Dad
Previously: When Roderick humiliated my father over spilled soup, I ended his reign with a single sentence. He had no idea I owned the steakhouse he ran—or that my dad was the real reason it ever existed.
The Secret Roderick Thought He Had on Me
Two hours later, I was in my father’s cramped studio apartment above the steakhouse, helping Emma wrap gauze around his hands. He insisted it was just a little burn, but I could see the deep red marks, the blisters forming.
“Dad, you need to see a doctor,” I said.
“I’ve had worse,” he said with a tired smile. “It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. It was never fine. I’d spent the last ten years building a billion-dollar restaurant empire, and my own father was still scrubbing dishes for minimum wage at the flagship location. He refused my money, my help, my offers to buy him a house. He said he liked the work, that it kept him busy after Mom died. But I knew the truth—he was ashamed.
My phone buzzed. It was my lawyer, Marcus. “Victoria, I’m sending you something. You need to see it.”
I opened the file. It was a contract—a loan agreement between my father and Roderick’s uncle, dated five years ago. My father had borrowed $50,000 to pay for Emma’s medical bills when she was diagnosed with a rare condition. The interest rate was predatory, and the collateral was the deed to the steakhouse.
“This is forged,” I said, my voice rising. “Dad never told me about this.”
“It’s not forged,” Marcus said grimly. “Your father signed it, and Roderick’s uncle has been collecting payments. Your father’s been paying him back with his wages—which is why he’s been stuck in the dish pit.”
I stared at my father. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“You had your own battles,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden! You’re my father!”
Emma was watching us, her eyes wide. I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone again.
“Marcus, I want Roderick’s uncle investigated too. If this loan is illegal—and I’m betting it is—I’ll destroy them both.”
“Already on it,” he said. “But there’s something else. Roderick is claiming you assaulted him. He’s filed a police report and a lawsuit against you and the company.”
I laughed, but it was bitter. “He touched my father. I defended him. That’s not assault.”
“It is if he says you injured his wrist,” Marcus said. “He’s got medical records. And he’s got witnesses—several staff members who are willing to testify against you.”
My chest tightened. “Witnesses? They saw everything. They saw him kick the tureen, raise his hand to my sister.”
“They’re scared of him,” Marcus said. “He’s been running that kitchen like a dictator for years. They won’t speak unless they’re protected.”
I looked at my father’s hands, at Emma’s tear-stained cheeks. “Then we protect them. I’ll offer them full immunity and relocation if they testify. And I’ll have my security team pull the surveillance footage from tonight.”
“There is no footage,” Marcus said. “The cameras in the chef’s table gallery were disabled two days ago. Roderick made sure of it.”
My blood boiled. “Of course he did. He planned this.”
I stood up, pacing the tiny room. “But he made a mistake. He didn’t disable the cameras in the service hallway. And he didn’t know I had a body camera on my security chief.”
“I’ll get the footage,” Marcus said.
“No,” I said. “I’ll get it myself. And I’ll find out who Roderick’s real boss is. Because someone is backing him, and I want to know who.”
I hung up and turned to my father. “Dad, I’m going to fix this. I promise you, I will make this right.”
He looked at me with those gentle eyes. “Victoria, just be careful. Roderick is a snake. He’ll strike when you least expect it.”
“Let him strike,” I said. “I’ve got armor now.”
But as I left the apartment, I felt a chill. Roderick had been one step ahead of me for years. And I had a feeling he wasn’t done yet.
”And I had a feeling he wasn’t done yet.