We Adopted a 4-Year-Old Girl – A Month Later, She Came to Me and Said, ‘Mommy, Don’t Trust Daddy’

A month after adopting Jennifer, she looked up at me with wide eyes and whispered, “Mommy, don’t trust Daddy.” Her words echoed in my mind as I began to wonder what secrets my husband could be hiding.

I looked down at Jennifer’s small face, taking in those big, watchful eyes and the shy, uncertain smile she wore. After all those years of hoping, trying, waiting, here she was, our daughter.

A small happy girl | Source: Pexels

A small happy girl | Source: Pexels

Richard was practically glowing. He couldn’t stop looking at her. It was like he was trying to memorize every feature, every expression.

“Look at her, Marla,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “She’s just perfect.”

I gave him a soft smile, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. “She really is.”

A happy family and their daughter | Source: Pexels

A happy family and their daughter | Source: Pexels

We’d come such a long way to get here. It had been doctor’s appointments, long talks, and an endless string of paperwork. When we finally met Jennifer, something in me just… knew. She was only four, so little, and so quiet, but she already felt like ours.

It’s been a few weeks since we officially adopted Jen, and we decided it was time for a small family outing. Richard leaned down to her level, smiling warmly. “Hey. How about we go get some ice cream? Would you like that?”

A man talking to his young daughter | Source: Freepik

A man talking to his young daughter | Source: Freepik

Jennifer looked at him, then glanced up at me, as if waiting for my reaction. She didn’t answer right away, just gave the smallest nod, pressing herself closer to my side.

Richard chuckled softly, though I could hear a hint of nervousness in it. “All right, ice cream it is. We’ll make it a special treat.”

A man playing with his daughter | Source: Freepik

A man playing with his daughter | Source: Freepik

Jennifer stayed close to me as we walked out. Richard led the way, glancing back every now and then and smiling hopefully. I watched him try to coax her out, to make her feel at ease. But each time he asked a question, Jennifer’s grip on my hand tightened a little, her gaze drifting back to me.

When we got to the ice cream shop, Richard stepped up to the counter, ready to order for her. “How about chocolate? Or maybe strawberry?” he asked, his voice bright.

A man picking out ice cream | Source: Midjourney

A man picking out ice cream | Source: Midjourney

She looked at him, then looked at me again, her voice barely a whisper. “Vanilla, please.”

Richard seemed taken aback for just a second, then smiled. “Vanilla it is.”

Jennifer seemed content to let him order, but I noticed she barely looked his way as we sat down. Instead, she ate quietly, staying close to my side. She watched Richard with a cautious sort of interest, not saying much, and I wondered if it was all just too much for her.

A serious young girl | Source: Pexels

A serious young girl | Source: Pexels

Later that evening, as I tucked Jennifer into bed, she clung to my arm a little longer than I expected.

“Mommy?” she whispered, her voice hesitant.

“Yes, sweetie?”

She looked away for a moment, then back up at me, eyes wide and serious. “Don’t trust Daddy.”

A serious girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A serious girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I knelt beside her, brushing her hair back. “Why would you say that, honey?”

She shrugged, but her lips turned downward in a sad little frown. “He’s talking weird. Like he’s hiding something.”

It took me a moment to respond. I tried to keep my voice gentle. “Jennifer, Daddy loves you very much. He’s just trying to help you feel at home. You know that, right?”

A smiling woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

She didn’t respond, just curled up a little tighter under her blankets. I stayed there, holding her hand, wondering where this was coming from. Could she just be nervous? Maybe adjusting was harder for her than I realized. But as I looked at her small, serious face, a faint unease crept in.

When I finally left her room, I found Richard waiting by the door. “How’d she do?” he asked, his face hopeful.

A serious man | Source: Pexels

A serious man | Source: Pexels

“She’s asleep,” I replied softly, watching his expression.

“That’s good.” He seemed relieved, but I noticed how his smile wavered just a little. “I know it’s all new for her. For all of us. But I think we’ll be fine. Don’t you?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of Jennifer’s words echoing in my mind.

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

The next day, as I stirred the pasta on the stove, I heard Richard’s voice drift in from the living room. He was on the phone, his tone low and tense. I paused, wiping my hands on a towel, and listened as his words floated into the kitchen.

“It’s been… harder than I expected,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s… sharp. Jennifer’s noticing more than I thought she would. I’m afraid she might tell Maria.”

A man talking on his phone with his back to the camera | Source: Pexels

A man talking on his phone with his back to the camera | Source: Pexels

I felt my heartbeat quicken, my mind racing to make sense of what I’d heard. Jennifer might tell me? Tell me what? I tried to shake it off, telling myself there must be an explanation. But as I listened, my pulse only pounded harder.

“It’s just… so hard to keep things under wraps,” Richard continued. “I don’t want Marla to find out… not until it’s ready.”

A serious suspicious woman | Source: Freepik

A serious suspicious woman | Source: Freepik

I froze, clutching the countertop. What wasn’t I supposed to find out? What could he possibly be keeping from me? I strained to hear, but then his voice dropped lower, and I couldn’t make out the rest of his conversation. A few moments later, he ended the call and started walking toward the kitchen.

I turned back to the stove, my mind whirling. I stirred the pasta with more force than necessary, trying to act normal as Richard stepped in, looking pleased.

A smiling man looking at his wife cooking | Source: Pexels

A smiling man looking at his wife cooking | Source: Pexels

“Smells good in here,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

I forced a smile, my hands gripping the spoon. “Thanks. Almost done.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, and I felt my smile falter as his words echoed in my head: I’m afraid she might tell Marla… It’s hard to keep things under wraps.

A woman cooking with a forced smile | Source: Midjourney

A woman cooking with a forced smile | Source: Midjourney

Later that evening, after we’d tucked Jennifer in, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I needed answers. I found Richard in the living room, browsing through some paperwork, and sat down across from him, hands clasped tightly in my lap.

“Richard,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “I overheard you on the phone earlier.”

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels

He looked up, raising an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and… something else crossing his face. “Oh?” he said, clearly caught off guard. “What did you hear?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “I heard you say that Jennifer might… tell me something. And that it’s hard to keep things ‘under wraps.’” I met his gaze, my heart pounding. “What are you hiding from me?”

A sad serious woman hugging her knees | Source: Pexels

A sad serious woman hugging her knees | Source: Pexels

For a moment, he just stared at me, his face a mixture of confusion and worry. Then, as understanding dawned, his expression softened. He set his papers aside and leaned forward, reaching for my hand.

“Marla,” he said gently, “I’m not hiding anything bad. I promise.” His grip on my hand was warm, reassuring, but it didn’t settle the knots in my stomach.

A frustrated man | Source: Pexels

A frustrated man | Source: Pexels

“Then what is it?” I whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. “What don’t you want Jennifer to tell me?”

Richard took a deep breath, his face breaking into a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want you to find out because… well, I was planning a surprise for Jennifer’s birthday. With my brother’s help.” He squeezed my hand, looking slightly embarrassed. “I wanted it to be a big deal, a special first birthday with us.”

A serious man talking on his couch | Source: Midjourney

A serious man talking on his couch | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, not quite processing his words at first. “A surprise party?” I asked slowly, the tension in my chest easing just a bit.

He nodded. “I wanted it to be perfect for her. I thought we could show her how much we care. That she’s part of our family now.” He smiled, looking a little relieved. “I knew Jennifer might say something, and I was worried she’d ruin the surprise.”

A surprise party for a small girl | Source: Midjourney

A surprise party for a small girl | Source: Midjourney

A wave of relief washed over me, though I felt a strange pang of guilt. Here I’d been imagining… well, I didn’t even know what I’d been imagining. “Richard,” I whispered, lowering my head, “I’m so sorry. I just… I thought there was something wrong.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. You were so stressed after the adoption process, so I took all the planning upon myself. It’s a surprise for both of you!”

Man and woman holding hands | Source: Pexels

Man and woman holding hands | Source: Pexels

I nodded, trying to let go of the doubts that had taken hold of me. “I think Jennifer’s just… protective,” I said, trying to explain. “She doesn’t know what to expect, and when she told me not to trust you… I guess it just got to me.”

Richard gave a thoughtful nod. “She’s a sensitive kid. I think she’s still finding her way.” He looked at me, his expression earnest. “We’ll just have to make sure she feels safe and loved. All three of us.”

A happy couple talking on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple talking on the couch | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, as I watched Richard gently help Jennifer pick out her breakfast cereal, I felt my heart lift a little. He looked over at her with so much patience, and even though she barely glanced up, I could see the trust slowly building between them.

I walked over and joined them at the table, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. She looked up at me, her eyes calm, and a small smile crept across her face. It was as if she could sense the new peace between us, as if some unspoken worry had finally lifted.

A happy family playing together | Source: Pexels

A happy family playing together | Source: Pexels

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

3 Incredible Stories Where Money Caused a Rift in the Family

Money has been called the root of all evil, but these lifeless pieces of paper don’t change anyone; they change on their own. In the following stories, people showed their true nature when faced with large amounts of money.

One of the three people in the following tales tried to monopolize her husband’s life and money by kicking his son out, while another tried to bring a feuding family together using finances. A third got a life insurance policy and pretended to be dead. Read on…

A family sitting around a table filled with money | Source: Midjourney

A family sitting around a table filled with money | Source: Midjourney

1. My Stepmom Tried Kicking Me Out Only to Discover Something Shocking About Our House That Turned the Tables Around

Returning from work, I was wiped out. College classes by day, gaming store shifts by night… it was endless. I never wanted this part-time job, especially since Dad’s income could cover my expenses.

But my stepmom, Karen, insisted, claiming it’d “teach him responsibility.” When I walked in, my father and stepmom were on my case. Karen was on me immediately, asking, “Why are you late? You were supposed to clean today!”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I tried to keep calm.

“I had a long day. I’ll clean tomorrow.”

My stepmom folded her arms, her voice sharp as she questioned, “Tomorrow? That’s not how responsibility works, Marcus.”

I couldn’t hold back. “You’re home all day. Is cleaning really that hard?”

Her face flushed red. “How dare YOU speak to ME like that!”

Just then, Dad entered the room, looking between us. “What’s going on?”

“Marcus refuses to clean,” Karen said, crossing her arms.

“I’m not refusing. I said I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m tired,” I explained, swallowing back my frustration.

An upset boy | Source: Pexels

An upset boy | Source: Pexels

Dad sighed, glancing at Karen. “He’ll do it tomorrow. Let’s leave it at that.”

Relieved, I turned toward my room, but Dad stopped me. “Don’t go anywhere tonight, son. We have news to share.”

Nodding, I headed upstairs.

When Dad came to get me later, I dragged myself down to the table, where a cold plate of leftovers waited. As I picked at my food, I felt Karen’s and Dad’s eyes on me.

“What’s this big news?” I asked, glancing up.

A boy looking ahead at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A boy looking ahead at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

Dad shared a quick look with Karen. “We’re pregnant!” they announced together.

I froze, almost choking. “Uh… congratulations,” I managed, forcing a smile.

Dad looked thrilled, but Karen’s expression stayed cold.

Turning somber, he started, “Son, I don’t know how to say this… but…”

“Actually, Marcus,” Karen began, cutting my dad off, “YOU need to move out.”

“What? Dad, what is she talking about?!” I stammered, looking at Dad, shocked.

A confused boy | Source: Mijdourney

A confused boy | Source: Mijdourney

Karen’s look didn’t waver. “My baby is on the way, and we need to prepare the house for it, maybe do renovations. You’ll just be a burden and in the way. We need space for our child.”

“Dad? Where will I go? I can’t afford rent… I work part-time and study! And… God, this is my home too! Dad, say something! Please!” I looked at him, feeling a wave of betrayal.

Dad shifted uncomfortably, looking at me and back at Karen, but stayed silent.

Realizing I was on my own, I said, “You know what? You two can go to hell!” before storming off to my room and slamming the door!

An angry boy storming off | Source: Midjourney

An angry boy storming off | Source: Midjourney

That night, I lay there, feeling lost and abandoned. They couldn’t just toss me out like this, I thought desperately. As their muffled voices drifted through the door, I pressed my ear against it.

Dad sounded hesitant as he said, “Maybe he should stay until he finishes school…”

Karen’s reply was sharp. “Tom, we’ve been over this. He has to go.”

At that moment, I felt utterly alone.

An upset boy | Source: Midjourney

An upset boy | Source: Midjourney

Karen’s voice cut in, “You have three days to figure it out,” she insisted, having walked into my room without even knocking.

I felt heat rush to my face. “I’m a student with a part-time job! I can’t afford a place, let alone in three days!”

But I was talking to my stepmom’s back as she walked away.

Then I thought of Grandma Rose. Maybe she’d help. I dialed her number, hands shaking.

“Grandma Rose? It’s Marcus,” I choked out.

“Marcus? What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

An upset woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

An upset woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

I spilled everything, barely holding back tears.

Rose listened quietly, then said, “Do nothing, sweetheart. I’ll be there soon.”

The next day, my late grandmother’s sister arrived at our door, eyes blazing. She didn’t wait a second.

“Everyone to the living room. Now.”

Karen’s glare met Rose’s, but my grandma spoke first.

“How dare you throw a child out of his home?” she demanded, her voice like steel.

An upset woman shouting | Source: Freepik

An upset woman shouting | Source: Freepik

“Marcus isn’t a child,” Karen snapped back.

“Until he finishes school, he is,” Rose replied. “But none of this matters. This is Marcus’s house. He isn’t going anywhere.”

I blinked, shocked, as Karen scoffed. Rose’s next words shut her down.

“My late sister left the house to Marcus before she passed. It’s been his since he turned eighteen.”

Silence followed, and Karen’s face twisted with anger. But Rose wasn’t finished.

“And by the way, Karen, how’s that wine you were drinking? Odd for a pregnant woman.”

A guilty-looking woman | Source: Midjourney

A guilty-looking woman | Source: Midjourney

Karen’s face went pale. “What? How do you know about that?”

“I saw you this morning at the café with your friend on my way here,” Rose replied.

“There is no baby!” Karen blurted, horrified by her slip-up.

Dad looked at her, stunned. “You lied?” he whispered.

Karen tried to recover, but Rose’s calm voice cut in. “Pack your things and go.”

An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney

Within minutes, Karen was gone. Dad looked at me, regretful.

“I’m sorry, son. I don’t know what came over me.”

For the first time in a long while, I felt safe. I hugged him, feeling the relief of finally being home.

A father hugging his son | Source: Midjourney

A father hugging his son | Source: Midjourney

2. Hate Tore My Family Apart Until My Grandmother Brought Us Together One Last Time with a Great Revelation

Scott and I drove to Grandma Eleanor’s for her 80th birthday, the first time in years the whole family was gathering because we hated each other. My husband parked, and as we stepped out into the chilly air, he grumbled, “I still don’t get why we’re here.”

“It’s Grandma’s birthday,” I reminded him. “She’s the only truly kind person in this family, and she wanted us all together.”

He sighed. “I could be working right now. You know we need the money.”

A couple walking toward a house | Source: Pexels

A couple walking toward a house | Source: Pexels

“It’s one evening,” I said, instinctively patting my stomach. “Do you think they’ll notice?”

Scott chuckled. “If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t notice. But what about telling your grandma?”

“Maybe at the end of the night,” I whispered.

As we headed toward the door, my brother Michael and his wife, Stacy, called out, “Hey! Wait up!”

Stacy hobbled in heels, complaining, “I can’t run in these!”

Scott and I exchanged a look, rolling our eyes. We all knew Stacy only stuck around for Michael’s money.

Scott nudged me to press the doorbell. “Can we just get this over with?”

Someone pressing a doorbell | Source: Midjourney

Someone pressing a doorbell | Source: Midjourney

At the door, Grandma Eleanor’s warm smile greeted us as she hugged each of us. Inside, the table was loaded with food.

“Why did you make so much, Grandma?” I asked, touched by the spread.

“Oh, I love doing this,” she said, smiling.

As we settled in, Michael asked, “Mom’s not here yet?”

“She’s not sure she can make it,” Eleanor replied, a touch of sadness in her voice.

“Typical,” I muttered. “She never has time for us.”

Michael shot me a look. “Stop. She’s our mom.”

A man looking at someone | Source: Pexels

A man looking at someone | Source: Pexels

“Yeah? And she hasn’t wished me a happy birthday in years,” I snapped.

Michael’s face hardened. “You act like you’re perfect, Camilla! She had her career as an actress to focus on!”

“And she put it before us every time because it’s the only thing she cared about!” I fired back.

Scott put a hand on my shoulder, “Camilla, maybe just…”

I ignored him. “You only have those restaurants because Uncle handed them to you!”

Michael clenched his fists. “You’ve always been jealous of me, haven’t you?”

“Jealous of what? That you’re alone with a wife who’s only there for your money?”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

“And you have it so good?” he sneered. “Your husband can barely hold a job, and how long have you been trying for kids… five, ten years?”

“Go to hell!” I shouted, standing up.

“Enough!” Grandma Eleanor’s voice cut through the chaos as she stood. “This is my birthday. I brought you here to celebrate… not to argue! And as for the inheritance…”

My head snapped toward her. “Inheritance?”

Eleanor’s voice was stern. “Your grandfather left something, and I have plans for it too, but I’m not leaving a penny to either of you until you prove you deserve it and earn my trust.”

A close-up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney

“What?” Michael demanded. “How do we prove it?”

“Show me you deserve it,” she said quietly, then turned and left.

Needing air, I walked outside, hands cradling my stomach. Michael followed.

“So we might have an inheritance,” he said, glancing at me.

“If you hadn’t ruined things as usual,” I shot back.

“Me?” He looked stunned. “You started it!”

“Michael, I need this inheritance. Scott and I…” I hesitated.

He raised a brow. “Why should I step aside? I need it too. Stacy’s about to leave if I don’t fix things at the restaurants.”

“Maybe she should,” I muttered, turning back toward the house. “I’m not giving up on this.”

Two people talking | Source: Midjourney

Two people talking | Source: Midjourney

Michael followed me back in, muttering, “Not fair, Camilla.”

I found Grandma in her room. “Grandma, I’m sorry we ruined tonight. Let me help you with anything.”

“Is this how you think you’ll win an inheritance?” she asked with a raised brow. “Do you really need it, Camilla?”

I placed a hand on my stomach. “Because…”

Just then, Michael burst in, interrupting. “Camilla’s lying about me, Grandma!”

“We weren’t even talking about you,” she said dryly.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

Then, just as we returned to the dining room, Mom arrived, swooping in with open arms. “My darlings!”

“Oh, Camilla,” she said, eyeing me critically, “have you gained weight?”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the table. More bickering followed between my brother, me, and our mother as we tried to prove who deserved the inheritance most. Then suddenly, Grandma’s face turned pale. She clutched her chest, and we heard a loud thud as she collapsed.

“Grandma!” I screamed before clutching my stomach. “Call an ambulance!”

A woman holding her pregnant belly | Source: Pexels

A woman holding her pregnant belly | Source: Pexels

My husband rushed to my side, gripping my hand. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s starting,” I gasped.

Scott’s eyes widened. “Labor?”

“Yes!” I shrieked.

Michael shouted, “You were pregnant?!”

Our mother commented, “I’m going to be a grandma?!”

And I demanded they call 911!

We’d become so estranged that I didn’t even want to tell them when I got pregnant. I didn’t want to bother because Mom would ignore her grandchild as she ignored me. The madness in our family is why Scott and I moved far away.

An ambulance at work | Source: Pexels

An ambulance at work | Source: Pexels

The only person I truly loved was my Nana. She was there for me all the time, the only light in this crazy family, and now she might be gone.

In the hospital, I refused to give birth until I knew about Eleanor. Scott pleaded, “Camilla, focus on the baby!”

After an agonizing hour, our baby girl was born, and when I woke up, Michael entered looking somber. That’s when I found out Grandma had passed away while I was in labor.

“We found a note addressed to the family in your grandmother’s belongings,” a nurse who came in said.

A handwritten note | Source: Pexels

A handwritten note | Source: Pexels

The note revealed Nana had known I was pregnant, and she’d left her whole inheritance to Scott and my child. She urged Michael to divorce his wife, who had opted to stay behind at the house. And lastly, she pleaded with our mom to do better for us and her grandchild.

Michael remorsefully confessed, “I’m sorry for what I said, Camilla.”

Our mom looked guilty, whispering, “Could I… be a real grandma?”

“Maybe,” I said, holding my newborn and feeling like our family was turning a new leaf as I announced, “Her name is Eleanor.”

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

3. I Thought My Father Was Dead, Only to Find Out a Sinister Truth When We Tried Burying Him

I climbed out of the car, standing in front of the church, and felt the weight of losing Dad crash over me. “We couldn’t even give him a proper funeral,” I thought. Bella’s sudden bark interrupted me. She was his dog and was usually calm with staying in the car, but not today.

“Bella!” I turned, watching her agitated at the window.

I gave a hand signal to calm her, and she lay down, though her eyes stayed fixed on me.

A man sitting in a car with a dog | Source: Pexels

A man sitting in a car with a dog | Source: Pexels

“Stay, Bella,” I whispered, patting her head through the window.

Leaving her whining behind, I walked inside. Dad’s casket lay at the front, roped off since he’d died of an infection. I settled beside my mother, knowing I’d never get a true goodbye.

As the final hymn started, Bella’s bark echoed through the church. She’d managed to get out of the car and jumped on the casket, flowers crashing to the floor as she barked and scratched at the lid!

A closed casket | Source: Pexels

A closed casket | Source: Pexels

Sensing something was wrong, I jumped up. “Open the casket!” I yelled.

Murmurs rose, but I didn’t care; I threw it open myself.

It was empty!

Everyone gasped, but I barely heard. I turned to the funeral director, demanding, “Where is he?!”

My mother’s knees buckled, and I caught her just as she fainted. I rushed her to the hospital, my mind racing. “How could Dad’s body be missing?” I wondered softly.

A man deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

A man deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

That night, I called the police. Detective Bradshaw came over.

“The coroner confirmed your father’s death and released the body to the funeral home,” she said. “Could your father have been in trouble, Mr. Hayes?”

Dad had been a model businessman who ran his own dog training and rehabilitation center. I doubted he’d ever take a risk that would threaten our family. Still, with no leads, Detective Bradshaw left. But I wouldn’t wait. Leaving Bella at home, I went to the morgue for answers.

A morgue | Source: Pexels

A morgue | Source: Pexels

At the desk, a nurse informed me, “The coroner resigned, and no replacement has been assigned.”

When I asked for Dad’s file, she refused until I slipped $1,000 onto the counter. She turned a blind eye as I entered the coroner’s office, but Dad’s file was gone.

Frustrated, I returned to Dad’s office, opening his email only to find every message deleted! Right then, Dad’s lawyer, Mr. Stevens, walked in.

“Ryan,” he greeted me, his tone grave. “You’re the new CEO of the company.”

A man talking to someone | Source: Pexels

A man talking to someone | Source: Pexels

“What happened to Dad’s things here?” I asked, noticing two missing dancer figurines.

Mr. Stevens shook his head.

“Your father supposedly took them home, though I don’t think he ever found the third one. The collector wants half a million for it.”

I knew the dancers weren’t at home; I’d searched thoroughly through my parents’ house while packing away Dad’s things.

But Stevens went on to reveal something else: we were in severe debt, and investors had been pulling out since Dad had been missing meetings for months.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

Then he added, “And there’s something you should know. I believe Arnold was having a relationship with his new secretary.”

Trying to ignore my anger, I spent the day placating investors. Then, I tracked down Dad’s secretary, Miss Pearson. That evening, I tailed her to her house and, when she drove off, I snuck inside her closing garage and made my way into her house.

In her room, I found a framed photo of her kissing Dad!

A photo of a couple kissing | Source: Midjourney

A photo of a couple kissing | Source: Midjourney

Then I checked the coffee table, discovering a manila envelope. Inside was Dad’s $7 million life insurance policy with Miss Pearson as the sole beneficiary! I drove straight to the police with the evidence.

Hours later, they confirmed she was booked on a flight to Morocco, which had no extradition treaty. Detective Bradshaw assembled her team for the airport, and they searched the crowd. But Miss Pearson was gone.

A busy airport | Source: Pexels

A busy airport | Source: Pexels

I refused to give up. My last lead was the third dancer. I tracked down its collector and paid the outrageous $750,000. I scheduled an auction, hoping Dad would hear about it.

At the auction house, I watched from the shadows. Then, at $1 million, a familiar voice called out. Dad. I blocked his way as Detective Bradshaw handcuffed him.

He glared at me. “Ryan? You set me up!”

“You faked your death to run off with your mistress, leaving us to grieve over an empty casket!” I spat, horrified.

An upset man shouting | Source: Midjourney

An upset man shouting | Source: Midjourney

Dad’s face fell as he confessed. He’d faked his death for a new life. I stared coldly.

“You taught me a man should do what’s right, not follow his own selfish interests. I hope you remember that.”

Bradshaw assured me Miss Pearson wouldn’t get far. As they took Dad away, I knew he’d finally face the consequences.

A man getting arrested | Source: Midjourney

A man getting arrested | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*