“Are you joking? Who doesn’t want more money? Who says no to it? Don’t you forget—if I hadn’t taken you in, fed you, clothed you, treated you like a little prince, you’d still be on the streets begging!”
Two sentences—and the truth slipped out.
Ethan wasn’t Chloe and Daniel’s biological son.
But hadn’t Margaret once claimed that Ethan and Daniel had taken a DNA test, proving the boy was his? She had been overjoyed, hiding it like a treasure until I accidentally discovered it.
Now, hearing the truth, joy surged inside me. I realized there was a punishment far crueler than death for them.
After Chloe’s scolding, Daniel came out to smooth things over, shielding me with a smile as he transferred money to her on his phone.
“Come on, darling. I’m proud of our son’s character. Aren’t you? He’s thoughtful and kind. But I also know how hard you’ve worked all these years, so I’ll make it up to you. I just sent $380,000 to your account.”
Ding.
So that’s what money sounds like.
Back when I begged him for cash, he had countless excuses—losses in the stock market, no returns on patents.
But now, $380,000 was nothing—just a click away.