Running Away with Her Daughter

I watched my billionaire wife, Natasha, pull her childhood sweetheart's daughter into her arms, her eyes welling with a sickening amount of tender pity.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she declared, right then and there, that she was going to be a mother to this little girl.

Meanwhile, our own biological daughter, Sadie, wasn't even allowed the basic right to call her "Mom." A dark scoff ripped from my throat.

All I did was leave a scathing review on a piece of garbage web novel.

The next thing I knew, I woke up transmigrated into the body of its spineless male lead—the exact same loser destined to be driven onto the streets, penniless and homeless, by his toxic wife and her twofaced childhood sweetheart!

Did she really think she could gaslight and manipulate me? In her freaking dreams.

I liquidated her entire walkin closet of designer bags and every piece of custom highend furniture in the house.

I secured five million in cold, hard cash, then scooped my fiveyearold daughter into my arms. "Sweetie," I said, adjusting her weight against my chest. "Daddy's getting us the hell out of here." As for how that crazy woman would lose her mind when she came home to a stripped, echoing mansion?

Not my freaking problem. Chapter 1 I was a nightshift security guard for a gated community, scraping by on minimum wage. Honestly? I was perfectly content with my life.

Just me, myself, and I. No mouths to feed, no drama to deal with. Eight hours on the clock, and once my shift ended, I never bothered going out.

Hitting the town meant blowing cash I didn't have. Instead, I'd just crash on the lumpy mattress in my crappy apartment and scroll through free, trashy romance novels on my phone.

It was the ultimate way to kill time without spending a dime. But then I stumbled upon this one angstfest of a book, and it broke my brain. Like, what the hell was I even reading?

The male lead—the freaking main character—was a walking disaster.

One day his stomach is ulcerating, the next he's having a neardeath allergic reaction to mangoes or seafood, and the day after that he's just standing there, letting random side characters slap him across the face.

The dude kept saying he needed to get away from his toxic abusers, but it was always some excuse.

Either he had to wait for some bullshit marriage counseling, or he had to give them "one more chance," or he just deadass refused to sign the divorce papers. That was my limit.

I couldn't swipe to the next chapter. It wasn't that I couldn't handle terrible writing—I had over 10,000 hours of reading time logged on the app.

I'd waded through every dumpster fire imaginable. I was practically immune to bad plots. But this guy? This guy made my blood boil. I couldn't hold back.

My thumbs slammed against the screen as I dropped a comment: [ Just leave already, you spineless coward.

You deserve every bit of this abuse. ] Yeah… I really didn't see the cosmic karma coming. One snarky comment, and boom.

Some mysterious force dragged me straight into the pages of that very novel. I became the spineless male lead. I couldn't even formulate a proper complaint.

At this point, I didn't care about the physics of how I got here. The only silver lining? The timeline. I dropped in right before the real torture started.

I arrived at the exact moment my CEO wife, Natasha, reunited with her childhood sweetheart, Finn. He had just returned to the country with his daughter.

Natasha took one look at Finn struggling as a single dad, decided his life was just too tragic, and declared herself the new mother to his kid, Mackenzie.

I absorbed the original Zane's memories, filtering out the pathetic parts. The original guy was an orphan from the middle of nowhere.

While working his way through college as a room service waiter, he stumbled into a classic setup. Natasha, the gorgeous billionaire CEO, got drugged by some corporate rivals.

Zane walked in to deliver champagne, and she forced herself on him. One wild night, and bam—Natasha ended up pregnant.

To her credit, she "took responsibility." She dragged him to the courthouse and got the marriage certificate. After that, the original Zane essentially became a livein ghost.

He stayed in her massive mansion, silently managing her daily life, raising their daughter, Sadie, and occasionally playing the role of her personal assistant at the company.

But Natasha never once publicly acknowledged him as her husband. She didn't even let little Sadie call her "Mom." It was a ridiculous setup.

The kind of unrealistic trash you only find in bad fiction. But it was the author's world, and I was stuck in the backstory. I couldn't change the past. But the future?

From this second forward, I was calling the shots. Chapter 2 I was getting the hell out of dodge. But running required cash.

I swept my gaze over the custom furniture and Natasha's massive collection of designer bags and luxury goods, a smirk tugging at my lips. Why leave it?

Finders keepers, losers weepers. We were legally married, so she couldn't exactly press charges for theft.

Plus, she cared way too much about her precious public image to make a scene over a few bucks. She had money to burn anyway.

Natasha was buried in corporate meetings and playing house with her childhood sweetheart's kid. She wouldn't notice I was gone.

As for my daughter, Sadie, she was still at preschool.

I immediately dialed up appraisers from highend pawn shops and luxury secondhand dealers, telling them to bring their trucks straight to the house.

I didn't care about getting top dollar. I only had one requirement: speed. The dealers swarmed the property in record time.

I directed the crew, liquidating everything that wasn't bolted down.

The sectional sofas, the flatscreens, the kingsized beds—hell, I even pawned the highend imported bowls from the kitchen. I spared nothing.

When one of the movers asked why I was gutting the place, I looked him dead in the eye and casually mentioned I'd just been diagnosed with terminal cancer and needed to liquidate my assets to fund my bucket list.

The guy shot me a look of deep pity and zipped his mouth. Even the community security patrol caught wind of the tragic story.

By the time the dust settled, the dealers handed over a little over five million. I knew the true appraisal value of that stuff was way higher, even on the resale market.

But honestly? I didn't give a rat's ass. They paid fast, and cash was king. As a guy used to scraping by on minimum wage, I'd never seen that kind of zeroes in my life.

It was more than enough. If I played it smart, I could coast on this until the day I died.

I strolled into the bank in a stellar mood and immediately changed the PINs on all my accounts. If Natasha snapped and tried to freeze my funds, she was going to hit a brick wall.

I also withdrew a thick stack of cold hard cash for the road. You never know what kind of mess you'll run into on the run. Better safe than sorry.

With everything packed and the accounts secured, it was time to ghost. But then I thought about Sadie. She was barely five years old. I decided to swing by her preschool.

If the kid was decent and we clicked, I wasn't entirely against taking her with me. Having a travel buddy didn't sound too bad. Back in my old life, I was an orphan with zero ties.

I spent years surviving alone. Deep down, I guess I just wanted someone to talk to. Besides, the memories showed that Sadie was practically velcroed to the original Zane.

If I left her behind with that ice queen, I couldn't even stomach the thought of the miserable life waiting for her. I pulled up to the preschool well before dismissal time.

I tracked down her teacher and smoothly lied about taking my daughter on a spontaneous family vacation. The teacher didn't blink.

She fetched Sadie, handed her off to me, and headed back inside. One look at Sadie, and I was sold. She was an absolute angel.

From her messy pigtails to her bright eyes, she checked every box. Taking this adorable kid on the run was a massive win in my book.

Sadie spotted me and immediately launched herself into my arms. "Daddy!" she squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck. "You're picking me up early today!" I held her close, catching the faint scent of baby shampoo, and smiled. "Daddy's taking a trip back to my hometown.

You wanna come with me, sweetie?" Her eyes lit up like sparklers. "Yes! Yes! I've never been to your hometown, Daddy." "When are we leaving?

Is Mommy coming with us?" "We're leaving right now," I said, shifting her weight on my hip. "Mommy is busy with her company stuff.

She's staying behind." Chapter 3 Sadie hadn't given up on Natasha yet. At the end of the day, Natasha was still her biological mother.

Even though she wasn't allowed to call her "Mom," Sadie knew the truth, and nothing could erase that fact.

Besides, Natasha hadn't yet crossed the line of relentlessly breaking Sadie's heart just to cater to Finn's kid.

For now, I just had to feed my daughter a little white lie, giving her time to slowly adjust to a life where Natasha simply didn't exist.

I bought our tickets and led Sadie straight onto a Greyhound bus heading back to my dusty hometown out West. Formal preschool withdrawal? Why the hell would I bother with that?

We were already gone. Divorce papers? Absolutely not. Why should I legally sever ties when Sadie might be entitled to half of Natasha's empire down the line?

Submitting a twoweek notice? I barely got paid minimum wage anyway. The concept was a joke. I was sitting on over five million in cold, hard cash.

I didn't give a damn about proper HR protocol. As for the plot's inevitable future where other billionaire heiresses fall for my "tragic charm"? Not my freaking problem.

Their socalled affection was just cheap pity bought with my endless suffering. Even if they threw themselves at me, I'd just be trading one toxic leash for another.

Why would I subject myself to that? I had a massive bankroll. Living a carefree, offthegrid life with Sadie sounded like a damn dream.

Shortly after the Greyhound hit the interstate, Sadie slumped against my side, fast asleep.

I leaned back against the worn seat, ready to catch some sleep myself, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the screen. Natasha.

I answered it, mostly out of morbid curiosity. The second the line connected, Natasha's entitled voice barked through the speaker. "Zane.

Bake an artisanal cheese pizza right now and deliver it to the office.

Finn's daughter, Mackenzie, is craving it." "Are you out of your damn mind, Natasha?" I scoffed, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't wake Sadie. "If she wants pizza, tell her own father to bake it." I hit end call.

To kill any further harassment, I powered the phone off. I didn't block her number, though—who knew, it might come in handy for leverage later.

Then, I closed my eyes and let the rumble of the bus pull me under.

Natasha I stared at the dark screen of my phone, my nails digging into my palms until the skin turned stark white. Zane had actually hung up on me.

He had never disobeyed a direct order. Let alone cursed at me. "You've got some nerve, Zane," I hissed through my teeth, my chest heaving. "Hanging up on me?

Calling me crazy?" "Just wait until I get home. I'm going to rip you apart." Finn sat across from my desk.

My newly appointed assistant, and the man who still held a massive piece of my heart. "What happened, Natasha?" His voice was infuriatingly gentle. "Did Zane refuse to bake the pizza?" "I told you we shouldn't have asked.

I know Mackenzie hasn't had much of an appetite since we moved back, and you said his cooking always helps… but I didn't want to cause trouble.

It's my fault for making things tense between you two." Finn squeezed Mackenzie's tiny hand, his shoulders slumping.

His face was a perfect portrait of selfblame and absolute helplessness. My chest tightened.

I hated seeing him look so defeated. "This isn't on you, Finn," I said, my voice softening for him before instantly turning to ice at the thought of my useless husband. "This is entirely Zane's fault.

You don't know how to bake, and it was a simple request. There's no excuse." I grabbed my keys off the desk, my jaw set. "Take Mackenzie to a nice restaurant for now.

Put it on the company card," I ordered. "I'm heading home to settle this.

He's officially crossed the line." I stormed out of the office, blood pounding in my ears, ready to make Zane regret the day he was born.

Chapter 4 Natasha I pulled into the driveway in record time. Punching in the passcode, I shoved the front door open and shouted, "Zane—" The rest of the sentence died in my throat.

I froze, my eyes sweeping over the aggressively empty living room. Where was the custom Italian leather sectional? Where was the massive flatscreen?

I tore through the house, my heels clicking frantically against the bare hardwood floors. I couldn't find Zane or Sadie anywhere. The beds had been stripped down to the frames.

My entire walkin closet of designer bags and luxury jewelry was wiped clean. Even the imported plates in the kitchen were gone.

The only things left untouched were my personal clothes and my ID documents. Did we get robbed? Impossible.

What kind of modern thief strips a house to the studs but leaves my passports perfectly intact? My mind was spinning.

Desperate for answers, I marched down to the community security gate. The guards knew exactly what was going on—it wasn't like Zane had tried to hide his little operation.

The head of security looked at me with this sickening pity. He told me the man of the house had been diagnosed with a terminal illness—latestage.

He had liquidated everything to fund the last days of his life. I stood there, rooted to the pavement. Terminal illness? I had literally just been on the phone with him an hour ago.

He sounded perfectly healthy when he was screaming at me. But I couldn't exactly throw a tantrum in front of the staff. I forced a stiff nod, thanked the guard, and walked away.

I drove straight to Sadie's preschool. Her teacher gave me a confusingly bright smile, explaining that Sadie's father had already picked her up for a spontaneous family vacation.

My blood boiled. I sat in my car and dialed Zane's number over and over, my thumb violently jabbing the screen. Straight to voicemail.

I didn't know it, but he was probably fast asleep somewhere. With an empty house and no answers, I had no choice but to check into a luxury hotel for the night.

I sat on the edge of the pristine hotel bed, my mind racing. Why would he sell everything? Why would he take Sadie on a trip? He used to report his every move to me.

Why did he do all of this today without breathing a single word? He had the audacity to curse at me, hang up on me, and then shut his phone off so I couldn't reach him.

Even if I racked my brain for a hundred years, I never would have guessed the truth—that the husband I knew was practically a different person now.

Right as I was spiraling, my phone buzzed. Finn. I answered, trying to smooth out my tone. "What's wrong, Finn?

Everything okay?" "Hey, Natasha," Finn's voice came through, sounding unbearably hesitant and small. "It's about Mackenzie… she really needs to start preschool." "I saw the one Sadie goes to, and it looks amazing.

But I just got back to the country, I don't know anyone, and I really don't have the funds for the tuition right now." "Could you… help me out?" "That's nothing.

Don't worry about it," I replied without a second thought. "I'll get Mackenzie enrolled tomorrow. Anything else?" "No, that's it.

But… Natasha, you didn't go too hard on Zane, did you? I'm sure he didn't mean to make you mad." "Please don't hold it against him.

I believe he'll change." "You have to treat him well.

Even though he doesn't have a real job, staying home to cook, clean, and watch Sadie is hard work too." Zane Little did Finn know, his daily routine of subtly trashing me and driving a wedge between Natasha and me was completely wasted.

If I had heard his little performance, I would've given him a standing ovation. You're a real piece of work, buddy, I would've told him.

You haven't even seen my face today, yet you're already writing a whole script. What a tragic waste of a Hollywood screenwriter. But he was destined for disappointment.

Natasha hadn't even found me. What exactly was I supposed to be "changing"? Meanwhile, Natasha must have been listening to his bizarre rambling with no idea how to respond.

She couldn't exactly tell him that I had liquidated the house and vanished with our daughter.

Admitting that would mean admitting she had lost control of me—and her precious ego could never handle that. Chapter 5 Natasha Finn didn't get the satisfaction he was fishing for.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. "Drop it, Finn. This is my family's business. Just bring Mackenzie to the school early tomorrow.

I'll handle her enrollment." I cut the call before he could say another word. Tossing my phone onto the hotel nightstand, I ground my teeth together.

I grabbed it again, my thumb aggressively jabbing the screen as I dialed Zane's number. Still off.

My fingers flew across the keyboard, firing off a rapid string of threatening texts. Zane thought he could slip out of my control? He was going to learn a brutal lesson.

I was going to make sure he understood exactly what he was—nothing without me.

The next morning, I showed up at the campus of the toptier private prep school with heavy, dark bags under my eyes. It didn't take long for Finn to arrive with his daughter.

He took one look at my face and rushed over, his brow furrowing in that sickeningly gentle way. "Natasha, what's wrong? You look exhausted.

Rough night?" My mood was already rock bottom. Zane's phone was still dead, and my texts were left on delivered. I waved Finn off, forcing a stiff posture. "I'm fine.

Just stayed up late. Let's go inside and get Mackenzie sorted." Finn swallowed whatever else he was going to say and followed me through the heavy double doors.

Connections and money talked. A few phone calls, and the administration fasttracked Mackenzie's paperwork without a single hiccup.

Zane Of course, while Natasha was busy throwing her weight around, Finn was busy playing his petty little games.

As Natasha stood at the registrar's desk handling his daughter's paperwork, he sneakily snapped a candid photo of her.

He uploaded it as an Instagram Story with the caption: [ Mackenzie's mom helping her enroll at the toptier private prep school. ] And naturally, he adjusted the privacy settings so that only my account could see it.

After the paperwork was signed, Natasha bolted from the campus like it was on fire. She didn't have time to stick around.

Her multimillion dollar mansion was currently echoing and empty. I had liquidated the place so thoroughly I didn't even leave her a mattress to sleep on.

She had to rush out and buy emergency furniture just to avoid the humiliation of living out of a hotel.

For a woman obsessed with her flawless public image, that was a fate worse than death.

Finn had planned to leverage the morning into a cozy, intimate lunch date, but Natasha blew right past him.

Disappointed, he was left standing there holding his kid's hand, forced to handle the rest of the campus tour on his own. But he didn't waste the opportunity.

He intentionally tracked down Sadie's exact classroom and practically begged the administration to place Mackenzie in the exact same room. His master plan?

To manufacture malicious rumors about Sadie. I knew exactly what kind of toxic garbage he was plotting. He had studied the dynamics between Natasha, Sadie, and me perfectly.

He was going to weaponize the fact that Natasha refused to let Sadie call her "Mom," spreading whispers that Sadie was an unwanted, motherless child to crush a fiveyearold's selfesteem.

But that pathetic little snake was destined to fail. He couldn't crush her selfesteem if she wasn't even in the same time zone.

I had zero intentions of ever sending Sadie back to that prep school. Who exactly was he going to bully? Sadie wouldn't hear a single word of his pathetic rumors anyway.

Chapter 6 Sadie and I spent hours transferring between a few worndown Greyhound buses before finally arriving at my remote, dusty western hometown.

I lost my parents when I was young, which tossed me straight into the foster system, but the town had always left my family's old property untouched.

Following my faded memories, I led Sadie up to the front of the property. The rusted padlock I'd snapped onto the front door years ago was still hanging there.

I'd lost the key ages ago. Finding a heavy rock nearby, I smashed the lock open with a couple of solid hits. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The front yard was completely overgrown with weeds, but the structure of the house was surprisingly solid.

The interior was coated in a thick layer of dust, but with a deep clean, it was livable. I let out a breath. As long as it had a roof, I wasn't going to complain.

I took Sadie back out to round up some help. Sure, I could scrub the place down myself, but it would take days.

Plus, living out in a tightknit small town, building goodwill with the locals was a basic survival rule.

I hit the local convenience store, hauled out a few cases of cold beer, and started asking the guys around town for a hand.

In a place like this, as long as you shared your beer, you were brothers. The locals didn't hesitate.

Once they heard I was moving back in permanently and needed help clearing the place out, they jumped right in.

I ordered a bunch of takeout, and with a small crew of guys happily working, we stripped the house of dirt and grime in record time.

Afterward, I treated the whole crew to a massive dinner at the local diner. A few rounds of drinks later, the initial stiffness vanished.

They recognized my family name and knew I wasn't just some city slicker invading their turf. They clapped my shoulder, telling me to holler if I ever needed anything.

I grinned, raising my glass to them in thanks. By the time the dinner wrapped up, the sun had completely dipped below the horizon. Sadie and I headed back to the house to crash.

She had spent the entire afternoon treating the rural town like a personal petting zoo—chasing stray dogs and trying to herd the neighbor's chickens.

She was dead on her feet and passed out the second her head hit the pillow. Only then did I finally dig my phone out of my pocket and power it on.

The second the screen lit up, my phone practically vibrated out of my hand. Notifications flooded in.

Natasha alone had blown up my phone with dozens of missed calls and a massive wall of text messages. I didn't even bother opening them.

I didn't need to read the texts to know she was hurling every insult in the book at me.

I also caught Finn's little Instagram Story update. [ Mackenzie's mom helping her enroll at the toptier private prep school. ] I took a quick screenshot for the archives, shrugged it off, and hit the block button on his profile.

The rest of the notifications were a mess of corporate group chats and updates from Sadie's old prep school.

I wiped my contacts clean, leaving only Natasha's number, and permanently exited every single group chat.

I only kept Natasha unblocked just in case an emergency came up regarding Sadie. Otherwise? I'd answer her calls if I felt like it, and I'd send her to voicemail if I didn't.

Nobody was putting a gun to my head anymore. As for plotting some grand, dramatic revenge against Natasha and Finn? Honestly, I couldn't care less.

The original Zane was just a broke college kid. Whatever Natasha's twisted motives were, she did keep a roof over his head and food on the table for years.

And to be fair, she hadn't reached the point of physically abusing him for Finn and Mackenzie's sake yet.

Since I'd already cashed out and dipped, holding a grudge was just a waste of energy. Besides, I was just a regular guy now.

Going headtohead with a billionaire CEO like Natasha was a suicide mission. I was just here treating every new day like a bonus round. No need to paint a target on my own back.

And Finn? Not to sound arrogant, but the guy was a complete idiot.

Without Sadie and me playing the role of his personal punching bags, his own stupidity would eventually catch up to him. Think about it.

Why else would he come crawling back to Natasha after all these years? He obviously failed to make a life for himself overseas and came running back to his rich ex to bail him out.

Chapter 7 Just as my mind was drifting off, my phone buzzed again. Natasha. I figured I might as well hear her out. If she started running her mouth, I could always just hang up.

I swiped accept. "What?" Natasha, clearly terrified I'd drop the call again, actually lowered her voice. She sounded almost cautious. "Zane, where are you? Why can't I find you?

And why… why did you sell everything in the house?" I needed to keep her off my trail, so I spun a casual lie. "Oh, that.

Sadie said she was bored out of her mind." "You never play with her, so she wanted to go on a trip to clear her head. I wanted to take her on a nice vacation, but I was broke.

So, I liquidated a few things to fund the road trip." "When are you coming back?" she asked, her voice tight. "No idea. Depends on Sadie's mood." "Come back soon.

I'm… I'm not used to living in this huge house all by myself." Her voice dropped, sounding pathetically lost. "Sure." I hit end call. Yeah, right. Not used to the empty house?

More like she wasn't used to not having her unpaid livein butler catering to her every whim. I brushed off her words. Going back wasn't even on my radar.

The past two days of traveling had drained me. Safe on my own turf, I closed my eyes and crashed hard. Natasha The line went dead.

I stared at the screen, the reality of him hanging up on me settling in like a stone in my gut. Anger flared, but it was quickly swallowed by a hollow, suffocating ache.

When Zane and Sadie were here, I might not have been overly affectionate, but stepping through the front door always felt like coming home. I had a husband. I had a daughter.

The house used to breathe with life. There was always a hot meal waiting for me.

Even though Sadie wasn't allowed to call me 'Mom', she would always run up and call me 'Auntie' the second I walked in. But now? He had completely sanitized the place.

Every single trace of his and Sadie's existence—gone. The furniture we shared, the little things that proved they lived here, erased.

I had emergencyordered an entirely new set of highend furniture, but sitting in the pristine, showroomperfect living room, the silence was deafening.

I had never felt so utterly alone. My phone buzzed, shattering the quiet. Finn. I answered it, rubbing my pounding temples. "Yeah?" "Natasha, it's Mackenzie.

She's suddenly sick," Finn said, his tone frantic. "Could you come over and help me take care of her?

I don't know what to do." "If she's sick, take her to the ER," I replied, my voice flat and completely devoid of warmth. "I'm not a doctor, Finn. I have things to handle.

I have to go." I dropped the phone onto the new sofa. I was already a frayed nerve over Zane and Sadie being gone. Hearing him whine about his kid just scraped against my exhaustion