After the richest wife killed my mother and daughter, I committed suicide. He regretted it when he learned the truth.
My billionaire wife, who’d been pretending to be poor for seven years, ran over my mom and daughter with her Maybach. A month later, it finally dawned on her that something was off.
She asked her assistant, “After I ran over those worthless nobodies, that old woman and child, did their family not kick up a fuss about compensation?”
Marcus, her assistant, his face grim, replied in a low voice, “Madam, *you* are their family.”
Seraphina looked completely lost. “What are you talking about?”
“That night, when you were drunk, you ran over the old woman and her granddaughter.
Mr. Julian tried to stop your car, demanding answers, but you were so intoxicated you didn’t recognize him. You kicked him away and just drove off.”
Before Marcus even finished, Seraphina stiffened, her face draining of all color, ghostly pale.
It was then that she remembered. Back then, she’d faked bankruptcy and a severe illness, forcing our family to work day and night, spending every last penny of our savings to pay off imaginary billions in debt.
To buy her life–saving medicine, my mother and daughter worked tirelessly.
But while working in a wealthy neighborhood, Seraphina, driving her luxury car, had plowed into them, their bodies mangled beyond recognition, instantly killed.
Numb with grief, after my mother and daughter’s bodies were cremated, I received a call from my wife’s assistant. His tone was like a debt collector’s.
1
“How much do you want? Name your price!”
10
14
7
“I know my boss ran over your mom and daughter, but they were just two worthless lives. How much could they possibly be worth? A million is more than enough for a couple of cheap lives.”
“My boss will meet you in person the day after tomorrow, at 2 PM.”
Listening to the disdainful male voice on the other end of the line, I felt all the blood rush to my head.
The lock clicked.
Seraphina walked in, wearing a dress I’d bought her years ago, her eyes curved into a smile as she waved a steaming–hot insulated container
at me.
Every cell in my body trembled at that moment. Finally, I spoke into the phone, “Alright.”
Seraphina didn’t notice anything off about me. Seeing me hang up, a gentle smile played on her lips as she walked toward me.
“Julian! I got you your favorite gourmet burger and fries! Come on, try it!”
She wrapped her arms around my stiff body and guided me to sit on our thrifted couch. She carefully broke open the forks and handed them to
me
A pained look about the price crossed her face. “The boss hiked the price up another two bucks. That could have bought Chloe a new drawing
book!”
Seraphina glanced around. “Why aren’t Mom and Chloe here? Where did they go? I bought Chloe some sweets with today’s wages. Doesn’t Chloe love sweets the most? But you need to keep an eye on Mom, she can’t have anything sweet with her condition!”
Where did Mom and Chloe ao?
2:51 PM ·
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*
Where did Mom and Chloe go?
In that instant, as Seraphina’s words landed.
My mind was flooded with the image of my mom and Chloe being thrown into the air by that Maybach that plowed into them on the street.
“Mom–Chloe-”
Watching them tossed in an arc like rag dolls, hitting the ground with sickening thuds.
Their warm blood splattered on my face, my screams and the chilling crunch of bones swallowed by the screech of tires.
“What… what’s going on? Where did that… pauper come from?”
The blinding high beams slowly dimmed, and a drunken voice drifted over. I stared blankly at the driver’s seat.
The next second, I saw Seraphina behind the wheel, her brow furrowed as she glared through the window at me, sprawled in the pool of blood.
All the blood in my veins froze.
How could it be Seraphina? Wasn’t she in the hospital? How could she be here?
The next moment, she rolled down the window and vomited, a thick stench of alcohol mixed with blood invading my nostrils.
Her eyes blurry, she looked at me. “Who the hell is in my way? Get lost!”
I struggled to my feet. “Seraphina!”
But Seraphina didn’t recognize me. Instead, she turned the car around and sped out of my sight.
Devastated, I was taken away by the Officer who arrived shortly after.
He didn’t show me the accident footage. Instead, he sighed and advised me,
“The person who ran over your mother and daughter was Miss Seraphina Sterling, the heiress. Our recommendation is to settle this privately,”
Seraphina Sterling! The $terling heiress?
A choked sob caught in my throat. I pressed on, “Officer, can you… tell me about this Miss Sterling?”
