Chapter 1

My daughter, Yulanda White, eight months pregnant, was shoved off the 18th floor by her gangster husband, Damien Blackwood. She and the unborn baby both lost their lives.

When I got there, all that was left was just a gruesome pool of blood and broken flesh on the ground.

The whole internet was up in arms over the case. [Those were two lives snuffed out just like that. He has to get the death penalty.]

My mother-in-law, Lisa White, cried so hard as if her world was torn through—pure agony, no hope left.

"If the court lets that scum off without the death penalty, I'll make sure to do it myself!" she yelled, voice shaking with rage.

But Damien just sneered and yelled in public, "I pushed my own wife. What the hell does that have to do with any of you?"

Everyone thought my husband and I were thirsting for revenge, out for blood—there was no way we'd ever forgive him, not after what he did.

But instead, not only did we withdraw our lawsuit against him, but we also split half of our fortune with him and told him to find a new wife.

The cops were stunned, and everyone was calling us crazy.

Lisa was so furious that she actually fainted; even Damien just stared at us in utter disbelief.

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

"What did you just say? Your daughter was murdered by that scumbag, and you're actually dropping the charges?"

"She was alive a few minutes ago."

The crowd was seething with rage.

The cops stared at us in shock, slowly releasing their grip on Damien.

The officer's gaze, once filled with sympathy, turned icy cold. "Why?"

My husband, Bruce White, and I kept our faces expressionless. "She's gone. No sense in sacrificing another life."

The crowd erupted again.

"You don't deserve to be parents."

My in-laws were sobbing and wailing, pointing accusingly at Yulanda's body as they shouted at us.

"Take a good look at Yulanda—how miserable her death was. You're her parents. If you don't fight for justice, she'll never rest in peace," Lisa accused.

But we just kept our faces blank, not reacting at all.

Bruce walked straight up to Damien and handed him a bank card. "Sorry, Yulanda dragged you down. Here's 30 thousand dollars. Take it and go find yourself a new wife."

Damien froze for a second, but still took the card. "Guess you know how to play ball. I was planning to finish off that whore and come after you two next, but maybe I'll let you stick around a little longer."

My blood ran cold. I believed Damien really was capable of doing something that twisted.

But we had no choice.

The cops left, and Damien swaggered off like he owned the place.

All that was left was the crowd, us, and Yulanda's body, just lying there, waiting to be taken away.

Lisa lifted her cane, her hand trembling as she swung it at us. "She was your only daughter—and my only granddaughter.

"She died such a horrible death, yet you stand here shielding the killer and even give him money. If Yulanda could see this, her heart would be colder than ice."

One of the neighbors, who was close to Yulanda, stepped up. "I can vouch for it—Damien is trash.

"He used to beat Yulanda all the time. At night, I could always hear her begging, 'Don't kill me, I don't want to die,'—those screams were downright chilling."

Lisa just about lost it, swinging her cane at us again and again, her rage boiling over. "Such wickedness. My poor Yulanda suffered so much abuse when she was alive, and now her parents refuse to fight for justice.

"Why did she have to be dealt such a cruel fate? If I knew this before, I'd have brought her home and kept her safe. I never would've let her go through that pain."

Hearing all that, I let out a cold laugh. "Lisa, with acting skills like yours, you should audition for a soap opera. Can you just drop the act?"

Her face stiffened for a moment, and then she went right back to playing the victim.

"I'm sorry, maybe I was too blunt. You two are still so young. You haven't seen much of the world yet. Just listen to me, okay? How about you file the appeal again?"

Her groveling only made everyone even more furious.

"They're pushing forty and still 'young'? They are just shielding that bastard."

"With something this evil, aren't they scared their daughter will come back to haunt them as a vengeful ghost?"

"She should just come back as a vengeful ghost and drag the three of them to hell herself."

In the midst of all the shouting, someone hesitated, "Maybe there's more to the story?"

"Crap. They're monsters, pure and simple."

The whole thing exploded on the internet, and local reporters rushed in like sharks sensing blood.

They jammed cameras right in our faces, shoving microphones practically up our noses. "Can you tell us why you're dropping the lawsuit? Isn't the victim your daughter? Or is there some hidden truth about her death you haven't revealed?" one of the reporters asked.

I answered in a flat voice, "No. It's just like everyone thinks. She was our daughter, and that's precisely why we had to do this."

The reporter, burning with righteous fury, traded glances with the cameraman. Suddenly, one yanked the camera aside, while the other came at us swinging, landing a couple of hard punches to our faces.

Bruce had been holding on by sheer willpower—after those blows, he just crumpled and fell straight to the ground, unable to move.

Lisa panicked, dropped her cane, and threw herself in front of Bruce to protect him.

She cried out, "Don't hit him. If you have to find someone to blame, it's my fault. I failed to raise him right, and now he's married to a woman with ice in her veins.

"Just let me talk to them, okay? I swear, I'll get them to refile the lawsuit." With that, she helped Bruce to his feet.

But the second Bruce was standing, he shoved Lisa aside, knocking her flat on her back.

Even with a bystander trying to help, she still ended up on her backside, yelping in pain.

Bruce just acted like nothing happened, not a trace of feeling in his eyes.