When he finally realized who had really died, I hoped he would regret it.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way. You write the settlement, you sign it.”

Seeing me hesitate to sign, Richard sneered with disdain:

“Now you feel guilty about your dad, worried he’ll haunt you? Too late for that!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this myself. If I let you sign, I’d be afraid the old man would crawl out of his coffin in anger.”

So he did know this was despicable!

But this wasn’t the first vile thing he had done.

Earlier that year, he embezzled millions from a project and lost it all to gambling.

I was newly pregnant and didn’t want him to get into trouble, so I mortgaged the suburban house my parents had given me to cover his losses.

He thought it was a mysterious investor bailing him out again. He said someone had to take the blame, and told me to admit it while I stayed home to carry the pregnancy.

I thought, since it was our company and our money, it didn’t matter much. I let him handle it.

But what did he do? He had Bella expose me, ruining my reputation.

We fought bitterly, and I miscarried silently.

He insisted it was deliberate on my part, claiming I’d aborted in anger, and from then on, we grew distant.

I had loved him for years and couldn’t cut ties so easily. While I tried everything to salvage our marriage, he brought death into the company.

And now, he had killed his own father.

In that moment, I hated my blindness, and I knew I had to divorce him.

The families signed the settlement and left the company cheerfully.

I finally found George’s body.

Exhausted, I hauled him out of the dumpster. Richard pinched his nose and mocked me:

“Olivia, aren’t you disgusted? Or are you trying to do a little extra penance for your sins?”

Always the cunning businessman, his psychological games never ended.

I ignored him, but as we passed, he deliberately bumped my shoulder.

George had been a large man, and I was already drained from lifting him. The jolt made the body slip from my arms.

The thud made my heart shudder.

Richard feigned shock:

“Olivia, is this how you treat your own father? Aren’t you afraid he’ll rise from the dead?”

If George could see this, he’d truly die of anger again.

If I had known Richard was this monstrous, I would have sent him to prison when he first embezzled money.

Looking at George’s lifeless body, grief swallowed me whole.

My silence only fueled Richard’s contempt:

“Olivia, stop acting. Admit you used your dad as a tool—it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone already knows what kind of woman you are.”

“Let me handle this corpse. You don’t need to worry about the funeral.”

Onlookers immediately praised Richard for being compassionate and loyal, despising me even more.

“Her father’s death is just karma!”

“With a daughter like her, no wonder the family is cursed!”

“Only Richard would still stay married to her. Any other man would’ve divorced her long ago!”

Richard waved off the crowd and called the Funeral Home.

He even arranged for an embalmer to restore George’s appearance.

He had killed his own father—so it was only fitting he handle the funeral.

And it was only right he see with his own eyes whose charred body this really was.

The funeral staff arrived quickly.

Richard told me to send over my father-in-law’s photo so they could restore the features as quickly as possible.

I didn’t hesitate and sent George’s photo straight to the Funeral Home.

As the staff were lifting the body onto the vehicle, a piece of metal clinked to the floor.

Following the sound, Richard’s eyes went wide with rage.

“Olivia! Have you no shame? How dare you steal my dad’s medal?”

He snatched up the Military Medal, veins bulging at his temples.

I ignored him, took the medal back, and handed it to the funeral staff, instructing them to pin it to George’s chest once his appearance was restored.

Furious, Richard slapped me across the face with his injured hand.

“Bitch! My dad treated you well, and you steal his most precious thing to give to your short-lived old man?”

“Who do you think your dad is, that he deserves to wear this?”

My cheeks burned hot and swelled; my speech came out slurred.

“The man who died is your dad. Why wouldn’t he deserve it?”

Richard didn’t—or wouldn’t—understand.

“Bullshit! Just because I call him ‘Dad’ doesn’t put him on the same level as my father!”

He wrested the medal away and, still seething, had Legal draw up divorce papers on the spot.

“Olivia, sign it! I don’t want anything more to do with a woman like you.”

“And don’t think you can run crying to my father—I’ll have him sent overseas so you can’t bother him!”

The sting on my face was nothing next to the pain in my chest.

He wanted me to walk away with nothing.

I refused. He cheated first, and he betrayed all the support my family had given him—why should I leave penniless?

Just then, the Hospital called.

“Mr. Johnson, when is your father coming back for treatment? He’s missed his window, and he’s not answering his phone.”

Richard froze, then seemed to realize something.

“What do you mean? Hasn’t my father been inpatient this whole time?”

When the nurse said George had left with me, Richard hurled his phone at the wall.

“Well played, Olivia—so calculating! I’m warning you: once my father sees your true colors, he won’t be fooled by a woman like you!”

He reached for his phone to call George.

But the fire had already burned the phone dead.

Unable to get through, Richard looked ready to strangle me.

“Where did you take my father? He’s ill—why are you doing this to him?”

In his mind, because my own father had died, I must have “kidnapped” his father to extort him.

“Olivia, what will it take for you to let my dad go?”

Watching this “devoted son” grit his teeth, I answered coolly:

“The divorce papers. You leave with nothing.”

Richard blinked, then roared:

“I knew it! You want me stripped bare? Won’t you choke on that?”

I didn’t ask for his precious company shares—only the real estate and liquid assets that should already be mine.

Seeing I wasn’t taking equity, he hurried to sign.

“You can have what you want. Now where is my father?”

I nodded.

He pressed, “Where is he?”

I tucked the divorce papers away and slowly pointed to George’s body.

“Right there.”

Veins jumped in Richard’s forehead; he lunged at me with fists and feet.

As I coughed blood again under the blows, the receptionist, Lucy, rushed in and pulled him off me.

“Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson’s father never incited those families. They came to help you, sincerely. I—and the cleaning staff—saw with our own eyes that it was Assistant Bella who spoke to the families…”

Richard’s face changed instantly. Afraid I’d learn the truth, he jabbed a finger at Lucy and shouted:

“How much did Olivia pay you to spew nonsense here? Believe it or not, I’ll make sure you can’t find work in New York again!”

Startled, Lucy stepped back and flashed me a quick, apologetic gesture—

then security, summoned by Bella, led her away.

Rattled and guilty, Richard didn’t dare keep me there; he kicked me out of the Company and told security never to let me in again without his approval.

By then, he had conveniently forgotten his claim that I’d “kidnapped” his dad.

Back home packing my things, I suddenly received several videos and audio files.

When I finished watching, a chill spread through me.

Blazing with anger, I called Richard again and again.

After a dozen rings, he finally answered—over the splash of water and breathy laughter.

My questions sank without a trace.

Moments later, Richard’s hoarse whisper came:

“Baby, you’re getting better at this…”

“Richard, be gentle… I thought we were done for today. I was scared we’d end up as doomed lovers…”

“Idiot. Together, we’re unstoppable—how could anything go wrong?”

“Olivia’s dad was tough, that’s all. Wouldn’t die from a beating—had to burn him to finish the job. Those families were so stupid—easy to manipulate! All told, we made a tidy profit!”

Calling a man killed by his own son “tough”?

Richard’s cold-bloodedness froze me to the bone.

It also confirmed the recordings were real.

That beast had sold out his own father.

Otherwise, he’d have realized by now who the dead man was.

Right after I hung up, a strange number rang.

“Ms. Scott, did you see what I sent? Mr. Johnson said he wanted to ‘make full use’ of your father-in-law. Please call the Police Department—but don’t say the evidence came from me. I don’t want to die…”

Lucy had already been fired; risking herself to send me evidence was more than enough. I wouldn’t drag her further into this.

I’d thank her properly when all this was over.

I called the police at once to trace George’s remains.

A night passed with no news.

I went with the officers to confront Richard. He insisted the body had already been cremated and even produced an urn to fob me off.

I refused to take it and stared him down, word by word:

“Richard, do you think it’s fun to deceive me? To desecrate your own father’s remains? Do you know how many crimes you’ve racked up?”

Enraged, Richard smashed the urn on the floor.

“Olivia! I kindly took care of your father’s funeral, and this is how you repay me?”

He stormed out.

With no remains located, the police could only pause the case.

I pulled strings and finally tracked the route of a black mortuary van that left the Company’s underground garage that day.

Surveillance showed it ultimately arrived at an unlicensed private Crematorium in a neighboring city.

Acrid incense smoke choked the hallway.

Richard, arm around Bella’s waist, grinned from ear to ear.

“My Bella is the smart one—what a perfect solution! Saved on funeral costs and brought in some payout money. You’re my little good-luck charm!”

I stared, eyes burning, at the body on the platform—dressed in red—until my tears broke free.

“Richard! Are you even human? That’s your father!”

Caught red-handed, he flinched—then quickly grew self-righteous.

“Olivia, what nonsense! How could that ugly thing be your dad?”