Chapter 3

Chloe didn't get my documents.

Before she left, she threw down a cold threat.

"Mary, if you don't cooperate, I’ll take legal action."

My mother stood by the door, her voice hoarse.

"Go ahead."

"Even if it costs me my life, I won't let you touch a single thing he left behind."

Once the door closed, my mother finally broke down, sliding against the wall onto the floor.

She opened my old phone.

Inside were many drafts that had never been sent.

All of them were written to Chloe.

"Chloe, the reaction to the clinical trial was a bit intense today, but the money cleared."

"Chloe, did the debt collectors bother you again?"

"Chloe, I don't think I can make it to your birthday."

"Chloe, it hurts so much."

The last draft was never sent.

It had only five words:

"I can't hold on anymore."

As my mother read them, she clutched her chest, gasping for air from the agonizing pain.

"My foolish boy..."

"Why were you so foolish?"

That night, Chloe returned to the luxury villa she was living in.

I knew that villa.

She had told me a friend lent it to her so she could hide from debt collectors.

But after my death, I saw that the registered owner at the front gate was Marcus.

In the living room, Marcus poured two glasses of red wine.

"Did her mother refuse to give them to you?"

Chloe sat on the sofa, her face pale.

"No."

Marcus sneered.

"She’s just an old woman. What can she do?"

"Once we get the death certificate, you’re the primary beneficiary anyway."

Chloe looked up at him.

"Marcus."

"Did you already know he was dead when we were at the hospital?"

Marcus paused.

"How could I have known?"

Chloe stared at him.

"When the hospital called that day, you were right next to me."

"You kept urging me not to go."

Marcus smiled subtly.

"I was just worried you’d get tricked by him again."

"Have you forgotten how he used to cling to you?"

"You mentioned the company was having a hard time, and he sold his house."

"You said debt collectors were after you, and he went to do medical trials."

"People like him just love playing the martyr to satisfy their own egos."

Chloe gripped her wine glass.

"Was his health really that bad?"

Marcus said impatiently, "He’s dead anyway. What's the point of overthinking this now?"

"Chloe, we planned this for so long."

"The debts he took on have been legally transferred, and the cash in your account has been washed clean."

"We’re leaving in two weeks."

"Don't go soft now."

Standing in front of them, my mind went entirely blank.

The debts he took on?

Transferred?

Washed clean?

So her company never went bankrupt.

Those indemnity agreements, those debt restructurings she had me sign over the years—they were all knives she handed to me.

And I had spent four years stabbing myself with them.

Chloe remained silent for a long time.

"Did he say anything before he died?"

Marcus mocked, "What could he say?"

"Probably still worrying about sending you money."

"He was clutching that debit card pretty tightly, wasn't he?"

Chloe closed her eyes.

"Stop talking."

Marcus set down his glass and sat beside her.

"Don't forget how he forced your hand back then."

"If he hadn't insisted you sell that plot of land, we would have gotten our first fortune a long time ago."

Chloe’s eyes snapped open.

"That land was left by my father."

"Ethan said the risk was too high and didn't want me to get hurt."

Marcus’s voice turned cold.

"That’s why I said he was a roadblock."

"But now, the road is clear."

Chloe didn't say anything.

Marcus reached out to hug her.

"Chloe, we're finally free."

Chloe's body went stiff. After a long pause, she whispered, "Yeah."

I stared at her.

Four years ago, she had cried in my arms and said, "Ethan, my company is ruined. I don't know what to do. Please help me."

I believed her.

I thought we were a team.

I thought that even though she was stubborn, she still loved me.

I never imagined that she didn't want me to help her survive.

She wanted me to take her place in hell.