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?”