chapter 10
I was on my way out of town when a car suddenly accelerated straight toward me.
But I had learned a long time ago not to trust the people who hated me to remain passive forever.
Before the impact, one of my security vehicles cut across the road and slammed into the attacker’s path.
The crash echoed through the street.
When I stepped closer and looked into the other car, I was not surprised.
Ethan was in the driver’s seat.
Winnie was slumped unconscious in the passenger seat.
So he had found her after all.
He staggered out of the car with blood running down the side of his face, gripping an iron bar like a madman.
“You took everything from me!” he screamed. “I’m going to kill you!”
My guards moved in and forced him to the ground before he got within ten feet of me.
He still kept struggling, eyes red, voice breaking.
“Why? Everything should’ve been mine. Why did you take it?”
I stepped on his hand and pressed down until he cried out.
“No,” I said quietly. “Everything should have been mine. I only took back what belonged to me.”
I leaned closer.
“As for you? Enjoy spending your next life in prison.”
The police came.
They took both of them away.
When Winnie woke up, she immediately claimed Ethan had forced her into everything and said she never wanted me dead. They turned on each other so viciously in court that the whole thing became almost pathetic to watch.
In the end, both of them were sentenced to ten years.
I never went back to see them.
I didn’t need to.
By then, I was already boarding a plane overseas to expand my own company.
My own empire.
No fake family.
No borrowed home.
No place where I had to beg to be loved.
Just me.
And the life I had clawed back with my own two hands.
Maybe in another version of the story, I would have wanted apologies.
Maybe I would have wanted my parents to kneel in regret. Maybe I would have wanted Ethan to understand. Maybe I would have wanted Winnie to admit every ugly thing she had done.
But by the end, I realized something simple.
None of that mattered.
People who had decided to love you less would always find a reason.
They would call it fairness.
Duty.
Family.
Sacrifice.
They would tell you to give up the room, the shares, the future, the dignity, the truth.
Piece by piece.
Smile by smile.
Lie by lie.
And if you let them, they would strip you down to nothing, then ask why you were so bitter standing there empty-handed.
I died once already learning that lesson.
I had no intention of dying from it again.
This time, I kept every promise I made to myself.
I took back my name.
I took back my place.
I took back my life.
And everyone who had ever looked me in the face and told me I mattered less?
They paid for it.
Exactly as they should have.