Chapter 4

Even the lawyer was stunned, repeatedly asking for confirmation. "Mrs. Miller, are you absolutely certain? This completely disinherits your only son."

Martha opened her eyes, looking dead into the camera, every word dripping with agony and fury:

"I am certain."

"For a side chick, he left his own mother to die on the operating table."

"He took the money meant to save my life and blew it on luxury vacations."

"He doesn't deserve to be called human, and he sure as hell doesn't deserve a cent of my money!"

Once the will was finalized, it felt as though the last drop of life was drained from her body.

She slumped back onto the mattress, her gaze turning hazy.

"Natalie, where's Noah? I want to see my grandson."

Noah was my child with Ethan.

Because Ethan complained that babies were too loud and ruined his beauty sleep, Noah had been staying with my parents.

Ethan had barely ever held his own flesh and blood.

I immediately had someone bring Noah over.

A two-year-old didn't understand mortality, but he could sense his grandmother's profound sadness.

He leaned against the edge of the mattress, patting her tear-stained cheek with his chubby little hand.

"Grandma, don't cry. Noah make it all better."

Martha's trembling fingers stroked Noah's soft hair, the faintest ghost of a smile touching her lips.

"Good boy... always listen to your mama..."

"Don't you ever grow up to be like that bastard of a father..."

I stood at her bedside, my heart twisting in absolute agony.

And at that very moment, Ethan was lounging on a sunny beach, basking in the tropical breeze.

He had no idea he had already lost everything.

His retribution had only just begun.

I took out my phone and blocked Ethan on every platform.

Since you love vanishing into thin air, let's make sure you disappear from our lives forever.

Martha held on until late into the third night.

The monitors suddenly went berserk, alarms shrieking through the quiet room.

Doctors rushed in to resuscitate, but in my heart, I knew she was slipping away.

In her final moments, her eyes grew unfocused, her hands pawing weakly at the empty air.

Her lips moved faintly, mumbling, "Ethan... Ethan..."

It was a mother's instinct.

No matter how deeply she had been wounded, before drawing her last breath, she still longed to hear her child's voice.

Seeing the old woman in such torment, my heart shattered into pieces.

No matter how much I despised Ethan, I couldn't deny a dying mother her final wish.

I borrowed a phone from a nursing assistant and dialed Ethan's number.

This was his very last chance.

The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up.

Deafening party music blasted through the receiver, accompanied by laughter and rowdy chatter.

Chloe's lazy, tipsy voice drifted through: "Who is it? Ruining the vibe in the middle of the night."

I took a deep breath, keeping my voice terrifyingly calm:

"Put Ethan on the phone."

"Mom is slipping away. She wants to hear his voice one last time."

The line went quiet for a beat, followed by Ethan's drunken, enraged snarl:

"Natalie? Do you ever stop haunting me?!"

"You think changing your number means I won't recognize you?"

"You're actually hooked on this dying-mother roleplay just to get me to come back?"

"Mom's slipping away? More like you're losing your damn mind!"

I hit the speaker button and held the phone right beside Martha's ear.

Ethan's venomous words echoed through the silent ICU room, crystal clear.

"If the old hag really dies, it's a blessing!"

"Saves me from hearing her endless nagging! I'm sick of it!"

"Go drop dead! Stop ruining my drinks!"

Click.

He hung up again.

Martha's hand froze mid-air.

The last flicker of light in her clouded eyes snuffed out completely.

Two bloody tears trickled down from the corners of her eyes.

Beeeeeeeep—

The monitor let out a long, piercing flatline tone.

The heart rate leveled out into a straight line.

Martha was gone.

She passed away carrying an eternity of sorrow and utter despair toward her own son.

The room fell into a heavy, dead silence.

I didn't cry.

I just stood there, looking at Martha's face, reaching out gently to close her eyelids.

"Rest in peace, Mom."

"Leave the rest to me."

I walked out of the room and stopped before the window at the end of the corridor.

Outside, thousands of city lights sparkled, but not a single one belonged to Ethan.

My phone buzzed.

It was a taunting text from Chloe:

[Ethan said if you dare harass us again, he'll divorce you the second we get back and kick you out with nothing.]

[If you know what's good for you, pack your bags and leave. Stop hogging the title of Dr. Miller's wife when you're useless.]

I stared down at the text.

Tears finally fell from my eyes, but a cold smile curled on my lips.

I typed back:

[Whatever you say.]

I wasn't just going to divorce him.

I was going to strip him of his reputation, strip him of his wealth, and make him beg on his knees before me.