In the end, he pleaded with the judge for leniency, sentencing me to only three months in prison. My reputation was ruined; a well-known lawyer in Everton City was imprisoned for publicly defaming and spreading rumors about someone.
That day, Michael handed me a divorce agreement, coldly saying,
“Sign it. I can’t let my child be an illegitimate child.”
“Don’t worry, as long as you sincerely admit your mistakes and live peacefully with Fiona from now on, I won’t mistreat you.”
I threw the divorce agreement at his face, telling him that unless I died, Fiona would forever be a mistress who couldn’t see the light of day.
Michael looked at me expressionlessly, placing a document in front of me,
“If you want your uncle’s soul to be restless because of you, then you don’t have to sign.”
After Michael became successful, he moved my father’s tomb from the mountains to the most luxurious cemetery. Because he handled everything, the grave was in his name.
If he wanted, he could indeed dig up the bones and scatter the ashes.
That day, I wanted to slap him, to ask him how he could treat my father like this. He was his savior; how could he do this?
In the end, I signed it with red eyes.