The afternoon sun beat down on the dusty outer road just beyond the iron gates of the Vance estate in Dallas, Texas. Thomas Miller stood beside his worn sedan, waiting for his daughter Chloe to come out from the engagement party. He had not been invited inside because the Vance family thought a retired mechanic was not good enough for their social circle. Thomas did not care about their money or their high status as long as Chloe was happy. But as the iron gates swung open, he saw her walking toward him with uneven steps. She was wearing the bright purple dress she had bought weeks ago just for this special evening. Her head was bowed down, and her hand was clutching her arm tightly.
Thomas rushed forward as fast as his legs could carry him, his heart pounding in his chest. When Chloe looked up, Thomas felt his whole world shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. A dark purple bruise was already forming along her delicate jawline, and her lip was bleeding slightly. Tear tracks had washed away her makeup, leaving thin white lines down her dusty cheeks. She looked so small and broken standing there under the hot Texas sky. Thomas wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders and pulled her close against his chest. He could feel her whole body trembling like a autumn leaf in a storm.
Thomas: What happened to you inside that house, Chloe?
Chloe: Dad, please just take me away from here right now!
Thomas: Who laid a hand on you, my sweet girl?
Chloe: Julian... and his father. They said I didn't belong in their family.
Thomas: Did Julian put his hands on you?
Chloe: I tried to hand back the engagement ring, Dad. I told them I couldn't marry him after the way they treated you.
Thomas closed his eyes for a second, fighting back the boiling heat in his throat. He brushed a stray hair away from her injured face with gentle fingers. For twenty years, Thomas had lived a quiet and humble life after leaving his old career behind in Washington. Nobody in Dallas knew who Thomas Miller really was before he opened his auto repair shop. They saw an old man in faded work boots, but they did not know what he was capable of doing when his family was threatened. He stroked her back as she sobbed into his shoulder.
Chloe: Dad, they'll come after us if we try to report them!
Thomas: Not anymore, Chloe. I promise you that.
Chloe: You don't understand how powerful the Vance family is in this city.
Thomas: Money doesn't make a man powerful, Chloe. It just makes him loud.
Chloe: Julian said his father owns the police, the judges, and the banks!
Thomas: Let them own whatever they want. They don't own me.
Chloe pressed her face into his shirt, her chest heaving with big, painful gasps of air. Thomas looked over her head at the towering white mansion sitting on the hill behind the tall fences. He saw the marble fountain spraying water in the front driveway and the expensive sports cars parked in a neat row. It was a place built on pride and cruelty, where people thought their last name protected them from consequences. Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys with a steady hand. He led Chloe to the passenger side of his car and opened the door gently for her.
Thomas: Sit here and keep the door locked until I come back.
Chloe: Where are you going, Dad? Please don't go back up there!
Thomas: I just need to get something from the trunk, sweetie.
Chloe: Promise me you won't get hurt!
Thomas: Nobody is getting hurt except the men who touched you.
He shut the car door softly and walked around to the back of his vehicle. The air was thick with the smell of sweet grass and hot asphalt. In the distance, high up on the marble terrace, a figure stepped out from the double glass doors of the mansion. It was Julian Vance, dressed in a sharp burgundy velvet tuxedo, holding a half-empty glass of expensive champagne in his hand. Julian looked down toward the front gate with a cold, mocking smirk on his young face.