Chapter 5

When I married David, the Lewis family refused to contribute a single dime to the wedding. It was my parents who completely funded the down payment for our marital home.

For the past seven years, I had poured my entire salary into paying off that mortgage alongside David, all while managing the entire household and raising our child completely on my own.

I knew in my heart that I had never done a single thing to wrong the Lewis family.

But at the end of the day, in their eyes, I was still just an outsider.

Now, their golden boy had completely screwed up. He had drained our life savings dry. And their very first instinct wasn't to hold their son accountable, or even try to help fix the mess he created.

Their first instinct was to aggressively demand that I liquidate my dead parents' inheritance to clean up his mess.

Why the hell should I?

"The house is a pre-marital asset under my name," I said, locking eyes with Sophia. I spoke incredibly slowly, making sure every single syllable landed.

"It has absolutely nothing to do with the Lewis family, and it has absolutely nothing to do with David.

"I am not selling it, and I am not mortgaging it.

"If you want to save his life, you figure out how to pay for it."

"You!" Sophia was so absolutely enraged by my brick-wall response that she couldn't even form a sentence.

Mary, however, took it to the next level. She literally threw herself onto the hospital floor and began throwing a full-blown toddler tantrum, thrashing around and wailing.

She screamed, "Oh my god! Where is the justice in the world? What horrible sin did my son commit to be cursed with such a venomous, evil wife?

"Her husband is lying on his deathbed, and she's standing out here fiercely protecting her real estate!

"My poor, poor son! How could you be so blind as to marry a monster like her?"

Her theatrical wailing successfully drew a massive crowd of onlookers, who all started whispering and pointing judgmental fingers at me.

I stood exactly where I was, wearing a completely blank expression. I watched her thrash around on the floor as if she were crying over a total stranger.

Over the years, I had seen this exact performance—the crying, the screaming, the dramatic threats of throwing herself off a roof—more times than I could possibly count.

And every single time, David would take her side. He would pressure me to give in. He would force me to apologize to her.

"She's getting old, Emma. Just be the bigger person and let her have her way," he would always say.

In the past, to keep the peace in the family and to save David from the stress of choosing sides, I swallowed my pride and compromised every single time.

But today, I was entirely done compromising.

I looked down at Mary, who was still actively rolling around on the tiles, and spoke in a calculated voice.

"Mary, I highly recommend you save your breath.

"Screaming on the floor isn't going to magically generate two hundred thousand dollars.

"If you have this much energy to burn, why don't you pull out your phone and call Jessica Grant right now?

"Ask her how peacefully she's sleeping at night inside her brand-new house, fully funded by your son's three hundred grand.

"Tell her to cough up the cash, and your precious son will be saved."

The second the name "Jessica" left my mouth, Mary's wailing instantly cut off.

She scrambled up from the floor, a frantic, highly suspicious look of panic flashing across her eyes. She actively avoided looking at me.

That micro-expression did not escape my notice.

My heart violently dropped in my chest.

An absolutely unhinged, horrifying thought suddenly bloomed in my mind.

Did they already know about Jessica?

Were they actually actively involved in this?

I locked my eyes onto Mary, stepping forward, and asked, "Why did you stop talking?

"Didn't you just say Jessica was infinitely better than me? That she was so sweet and understanding? Well, this seems like the perfect opportunity for her to prove how amazing she is.

"Call her. Right now."

"I... I don't have her number!" Mary stammered, her eyes darting nervously at the floor.

"Is that right?" I questioned and let out a dark sneer. "Well, your son definitely has it.

"I have his phone right here in my pocket. I'll pull the contact up for you right now."

I made a highly exaggerated move, reaching into my pocket as if to unlock David's phone.

"Don't!"

Mary and Sophia practically screamed the word in unison, both of them lunging forward to stop me.

Their explosive, desperate reaction completely confirmed my worst fear.

They knew.

They didn't just know Jessica was back in the picture. They were actively in contact with her.

David had taken our entire family's financial future and wired it to his ex-girlfriend.

And his mother and his sister knew about it the entire time. They actively helped him hide it from me.

They sat back and watched him completely gut our household finances to bankroll another woman.

And now that he was dying, they had the sheer, unmitigated audacity to demand I sell my dead parents' home to clean up the mess they helped create.

How could people be like this? They were a den of vultures—utterly devoid of shame, consumed by greed, and chillingly devoid of a single drop of human kindness.

I was trembling so violently with pure, blinding rage that I could only point a shaking finger at them, completely unable to form words.

Just then, the sharp, rhythmic click-clack of designer heels echoed from down the hall, growing louder and faster.

A woman dressed head-to-toe in a tailored Chanel suit with completely flawless makeup rounded the corner of the corridor.

When she saw us, she expertly arranged her face into an expression of deep shock and intense concern.

Then she strode straight toward us.

"Mary? Sophia? What are you guys doing here?

"Where is David? Is David okay?"

It was Jessica.

I couldn't believe this bitch actually had the nerve to show up here.