Chapter 3

David's parents coming over was exactly what I expected. I wiped away my tears, and my voice went calm again. "I know." "Do you need me to step in and handle them?" Alex asked. "No," I said. "This is family business. I'll handle it myself." Some scores had to be settled by me personally. After I hung up, I made no preparations and felt no nerves at all. From today on, this house answered to me.

At seven that evening, the doorbell rang. Through the peephole, I saw David's parents, Richard Reed and Linda Reed. They looked worn out from travel, their faces lined with grief and exhaustion. I opened the door.

The moment Linda saw me, tears spilled out. She grabbed my hand. "Em! Our Dave... he's really gone!" She wailed like her heart was being torn out and leaned toward me as if she wanted to collapse into my arms. I didn't move. I didn't steady her either. I simply let her slide down the doorframe onto the floor.

Richard's face looked awful. He shot me a glare, as if blaming me for being cold. "Stop crying and get inside already!" he barked, then carried his own luggage into the living room. Like always, he dropped into the seat of honor on the couch and looked around the place as if he were the owner here.

I shut the door and looked at Linda, who was still wailing on the floor. "If you want to cry, do it outside. Don't dirty my floor." My voice was ice-cold.

Linda's crying caught in her throat. She looked up at me in disbelief. Richard shot up from the couch and pointed at me. "Emily Grant! Watch your mouth! That's your husband's mother!"

"My mother isn't her," I replied evenly.

"You..." Richard was shaking with rage. "Dave's barely gone and you're already trying to cut ties with us? You heartless woman!"

"Barely gone?" I laughed. "First, they still haven't even found his body. Second, he never had me in his heart, so why should I have any conscience left for him?"

I walked over and sat on the sofa across from them, perfectly at ease. "I know exactly why you came today. It's about money. Nothing else." I tore right through their fake show of family warmth. Richard's expression stiffened, and Linda even forgot to cry. "I'm not going to waste time dancing around it." I pulled out the documents Alex had prepared in advance from beneath the coffee table and pushed them across to them.

"First, David and I had a prenup. Everything he owned before marriage had nothing to do with me, and the same went for what I had before marriage. My parents paid the down payment on this house, and most of the mortgage after marriage came out of my salary. David's contribution to this home was basically zero. Second, I paid for the company startup. There are transfer records. According to the agreement, if the company failed, the debt was his personal responsibility. If it turned a profit, I held sixty percent of the shares. Third, he had an accident insurance policy worth about 1.7 million dollars, and I'm the beneficiary. That money is mine alone."

With every point I made, Richard and Linda's faces turned a shade paler. By the time I finished, there wasn't a trace of color left in them.

Linda's lips trembled. "W-what are you saying? Dave just died, and you're already scheming over his money?"

"This isn't scheming. It's settling accounts," I corrected her. "I'm taking back everything he owed me, with interest."

"Impossible!" Richard slammed the table. "How could Dave have nothing? The company was making good money! Where is it? Where did it all go?"

"Great question." I took out another file. "These are David's bank records from the past three years. He bought Vanessa a car for about 100,000 dollars. He bought Vanessa's parents a house back in their hometown for another 170,000 dollars. He spent tens of thousands more taking Vanessa on trips abroad. And then there was the fixed monthly 'living allowance' of about 17,000 dollars. Every payment is right there in black and white. All his money went into the mistress he kept. If you want it, go ask the White family for it."

Linda stared at the statements. Every line item hit her like a slap. She suddenly went limp on the couch, pointed at me, and spoke in a weak, shaking voice. "You! This is all your fault! You couldn't even keep your own man, and you got my son killed!"

I was long past being surprised by that kind of shameless blame-shifting. I couldn't even be bothered to argue. I just looked at Richard. "The score is settled. Are you leaving tonight, or tomorrow?" It was a clear order to get out.

Richard swayed on his feet and grabbed the sofa, as if he'd aged ten years in a second. He looked at me with shock and fear, like he'd never really known me at all. And he was right. The old Emily had been gentle and patient, the textbook dutiful wife. The Emily sitting here now was calm, ruthless, and a full-blown madwoman in their eyes. They had made me this way.

Richard breathed hard and glared at me like he wanted to tear a piece out of me. Then he suddenly let out a miserable laugh. "Emily Grant, you think that's all David had? Let me tell you something. Behind your back, he used company money to buy his sister Sophie a condo downtown!"