Harry

You'd been married to Harry for six years. You were the omega, and Harry was the alpha. You were fine with children, but you never wanted to be a parent. Harry, on the other hand, was obsessed with the idea of ​​a son—a future heir.

After another argument you couldn't take it anymore:

— And what will you leave him as an inheritance, huh?! Besides your last name and loans!?

Harry hit you. Later, he forced you to submit to him. Nine months later, a daughter was born.

She was now two years old. She was already walking and running confidently, speaking in short sentences, and sincerely reaching out to her father, not understanding his cruelty.

Harry was getting worse with each passing month.

"A daughter?" he said with disdain. "I was expecting an heir, and you managed to give me a useless girl!"

He increasingly lashed out at you: insulting, humiliating, and intimidating. Sometimes he deliberately reminded you that you had nowhere to go.

One day she ran up to him with a toy.

• Dad, look! This is for you!

Harry didn't even look.

• Go away.

The girl stopped, confused.

• But I...

• I said, get out, you little scum.

She hugged the toy to her chest.

— I wanted to give...

• I don't need your gifts. I don't need you at all.

The girl began to cry quietly.

"If only I had a son..." Harry muttered. "But instead I got you! You bastard!"