Chapter 131: It couldn’t be anything good
The next morning, the bakery kitchen buzzed with its usual warmth and activity. Lily and Gen worked side by side, preparing fresh batches of pastries while Silvia attended to the steady stream of customers at the front counter.
After arranging a tray of cookie dough inside the oven, Lily dusted the flour from her hands and glanced at Gen.
"So, how was your visit to the cemetery yesterday?" she asked casually.
Gen, however, remained motionless, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular.
"Gen?"
Lily gently tapped her shoulder, pulling her back to reality.
"You’re zoning out. I asked you something."
Gen blinked several times before forcing a faint smile.
"Oh... I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you."
Lily studied her face with concern.
"Are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today."
Over the month they had worked together, Lily had grown especially fond of Gen. Being the youngest among the three of them, Gen often brought energy and laughter into the bakery. Seeing her unusually quiet immediately made Lily worry.
Gen quickly shook her head.
"I’m fine," she assured softly. "As for your question... my visit to the cemetery went well. My mother would have loved the cake Madam sent for her."
Lily chuckled.
"She would’ve had to. Otherwise, Madam would’ve complained that your mother didn’t appreciate her baking."
A small smile tugged at Gen’s lips, but it disappeared almost instantly.
Her gaze drifted toward the front of the bakery.
"By the way... where’s Madam? I don’t see her anywhere."
Lily suddenly smacked her forehead.
"Oh, that’s right. I forgot to tell you. Madam isn’t coming in today."
Gen frowned.
"Why?"
Lily let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh.
"Because Madam completely failed at surviving without her husband’s emotional support. Now she’s apparently trying every possible distraction to stop herself from missing him while he’s away on his business trip."
"..."
Gen had no idea what Lily truly meant, but with Dominic involved, she could roughly imagine Clara’s current state. Considering how devoted the couple was to each other, it wasn’t difficult to believe that Clara was struggling with his absence.
Lily waved a dismissive hand.
"Don’t worry. Knowing Madam, she’ll snap out of it soon enough."
Gen simply pressed her lips together without replying.
Just then, the oven let out a loud buzz.
"The cookies!"
Lily hurried over, carefully pulling out the golden batch before sliding another tray inside.
Left alone for a moment, Gen’s thoughts drifted elsewhere.
"Should I call Madam and tell her what I overheard on my way back to the bakery?" she murmured under her breath.
But almost immediately, the warmth in her eyes vanished.
A cold glint replaced it as the events of the previous evening replayed vividly in her mind.
[Flashback]
"I’ll get going now, Uncle."
After spending the entire evening at the cemetery, Gen finally bid the old caretaker goodbye.
"Take care on your way back," the old man said with a gentle smile.
"I will."
As she walked away, an unfamiliar sense of peace settled over her.
For the first time in years, visiting her mother’s grave hadn’t been consumed by grief.
Back when she was in prison, every anniversary of her mother’s death had been unbearable. She would spend the entire day reliving the horrific night—her mother’s murder, her father’s cruelty, and the injustice of watching him walk free while she paid the price for a crime she hadn’t committed.
Those memories had haunted her for years.
But today was different.
Instead of dwelling on the nightmare, she had simply sat beside her mother’s grave and talked.
She spoke about her new life.
About the bakery.
About Lily and Silvia.
About Madam Clara, who had not only given her a job but had also trusted her without questioning her past.
She even laughed while telling her mother how Clara insisted on sending a freshly baked cake every year because "everyone deserves cake on the day they’re remembered."
For the first time, Gen had smiled more than she had cried.
She hadn’t given up on life.
She had chosen to start over.
And somehow, she felt that if her mother were watching from above, she would be smiling too.
With that comforting thought, Gen made her way back toward the bakery—her new home.
The evening streets were unusually quiet.
As she passed a narrow alley, a painful groan suddenly echoed through the silence.
"Ugh..."
Gen’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
Her instincts immediately went on alert.
Carefully, she stepped closer to the alley and peeked inside.
The moment she recognized the man being beaten, her eyes widened.
"...Dad?"
Thomas was curled up on the dirty ground as three rough-looking men repeatedly kicked and punched him.
"Where’s our money, old man?"
"We’re done waiting!"
A heavy punch landed across Thomas’s face, sending him crashing against a wall.
One of the men grabbed the wad of cash from his pocket before shoving him back onto the ground.
"That’s all he’s got."
"Tch. Pathetic."
The three men laughed before disappearing into the darkness with the money.
For several seconds, Gen remained frozen.
She didn’t feel fear.
She didn’t even feel sympathy.
She only stared at the man who had destroyed her life.
Thomas groaned as he struggled to his feet.
"Bastards..." he cursed, swaying from side to side.
His clothes were wrinkled, his hair was a complete mess, and the overwhelming smell of alcohol reached Gen even from several feet away.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and spat onto the ground.
"Damn thieves..."
Disgust flashed across Gen’s face.
Even after everything, he was still drunk.
Still gambling.
Still surrounding himself with criminals.
He hadn’t changed at all.
Seeing him only rekindled the hatred she had spent so long trying to bury.
Her hands slowly curled into fists.
A part of her wanted to walk over there.
To confront him.
To demand why he had murdered her mother.
To scream until every ounce of pain inside her was finally released.
Another part of her wanted something much darker.
She wanted him to suffer.
To experience even a fraction of what he had put her through.
But just as those thoughts threatened to consume her, Clara’s face appeared in her mind.
She remembered the conversation they had shared not long ago.
Instead of condemning Gen for wanting revenge, Clara had quietly listened.
She hadn’t judged her. She hadn’t called her cruel. She had simply understood the pain Gen had carried for years.
That understanding had changed something inside her.
Ever since then, Gen had been trying to let go.
Not because Thomas deserved forgiveness. He never would.
But because carrying that hatred was slowly destroying her as well.
She had spent years wanting nothing more than to see him punished.
Yet reality was cruel. She had no evidence.
No witnesses. No way to prove what had happened all those years ago.
If she acted recklessly now, she could lose everything she had worked so hard to rebuild.
Her job. Her freedom.
The peaceful life her mother had always wished for her.
Slowly, Gen unclenched her fists.
"No..." she whispered to herself. "I’m not going to become like him."
She took a deep breath. "I want to live as my mother’s daughter... not his."
With that resolve, she turned around, intending to leave without looking back.
Just then... Thomas’s phone began to ring. He frowned before pulling it out.
"Hello?"
Gen instinctively paused. She had no intention of eavesdropping. It wasn’t her business anymore. But then one sentence made her stop in her tracks.
"...Prestine Group."
Her entire body stiffened.
Prestine Group?
What did her father have to do with one of the city’s biggest corporations?
She slowly glanced back.
Thomas leaned against the wall while talking into the phone.
"I know," he muttered impatiently.
"I’m meeting the dealer tonight."
He listened for a few seconds before adding,
"Don’t worry. I’ll get what you people want," then paused. "But make sure I get paid. I don’t work for free."
Gen’s heartbeat quickened.
Dealer? Paid? What exactly was he involved in?
She knew Thomas owed countless gambling debts and often dealt with dangerous people.
But hearing him discuss the Prestine Group made her feel that this was something far more serious than another gambling scheme.
Could he be planning to steal something? Was he blackmailing someone? Or... was the Prestine Group the target?
Questions raced through her mind one after another.
She became so absorbed in trying to make sense of the conversation that she failed to notice the empty beer can lying behind her.
Crunch!
The loud metallic sound echoed through the alley.
Gen’s eyes widened. "Oh no..."
Thomas immediately turned toward the noise.
"Who’s there?" His sharp voice cut through the silence.
Gen instinctively covered her mouth. She crouched behind the wall, praying he hadn’t seen her.
Thomas narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"I know someone’s there!" His footsteps slowly drew closer. Each step made Gen’s heart pound harder against her chest.
He’s coming. If he sees me...
Without giving herself another second to think, Gen turned around and bolted.
Her footsteps echoed as she sprinted out of the alley.
"Hey!" Thomas rushed toward the corner. "Stop!"
By the time he reached it, however, the street was already empty.
He looked left. Then right.
Nothing.
"...Did I imagine it?" He frowned suspiciously before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Tch."
The alcohol clouding his senses convinced him he had probably heard a stray cat or another drunk passerby. Shrugging it off, he lifted the phone back to his ear.
"Yeah, I’m still here," he grumbled. "Some stupid noise interrupted me."
After another brief exchange, he staggered away into the night.
Hidden several streets away, Gen finally slowed to a stop.
She placed a trembling hand against her chest, trying to steady her breathing. Her mind wasn’t occupied by the fear of almost being caught.
Instead, it replayed only one sentence.
Prestine Group.
Whatever Thomas was planning... it couldn’t be anything good.