Father‑in‑Law Died in My Wife's Game

After marrying Cindy Chapman, I began working for her family's company. Initially, everyone mocked me behind my back for marrying into the family and leeching off them. However, I eventually relied on my own merit to establish a firm foothold within the company.

My father-in-law, Eason Chapman, recognized my efforts and appointed me as his new right-hand man. But in a meeting today, Eason suddenly suffered a heart attack. Without a second thought, I carried him on my back, got us into my car, and rushed toward the nearest hospital.

While waiting for the next green light to change at an intersection, a Ferrari crossed the double yellow line in an illegal U-turn, cutting me off and blocking my path. When I saw the car's color and license plate, I immediately recognized it as Cindy's.

There was no time to waste. I rolled down my window and shouted toward the sports car, "Cindy! Move out of the way! There's no time! I have to get Dad to the hospital!"

The passenger-side window slowly rolled down. Cindy stared at me in disbelief. "Ian Jowett, why are you driving Dad's car?"

It was only then that I noticed the driver—Harley Gunn, Cindy's first love and a man for whom she still held lingering feelings.

Just then, Cindy's shoulder strap slipped, revealing the hickeys covering her neck and collarbones. Anyone with eyes could tell what had happened between them.

Due to the urgency of the situation, I ignored the blatant evidence of her infidelity and shouted, "Dad has suffered a heart attack! I'm taking him to the hospital right now, so please, just move!"

Cindy didn't just refuse to move; she jabbed a finger in my direction and yelled, "How dare you steal Dad's car to take your drying bastard of a father to the hospital, Ian! Your father's so sick he probably wouldn't survive the week anyway!

"He better not die in Dad's car and jinx my family! Get out of the car at once! Don't you dare drive such an unlucky person around in my father's car!"

She turned to Harley and commanded, "Don't move for him! Get him out of that car, even if you have to ram into it!"

The traffic light turned green at that exact moment.

Harley looked at me with a mocking sneer.

I stepped on the accelerator and swerved to the right, trying to avoid a collision, but Harley had pretty decent driving skills; he kept pace. With a heavy foot on his accelerator, he rammed into the back of my car.

I glanced back and saw Eason, who had been lying across the back seat, thrown to the floor by the violent impact. His face, already sickly pale, turned a ghostly shade of gray.

I hurriedly dialed Cindy's number. "Cindy, I'm begging you—stop getting in my way. It's not my father in the back seat; it's yours!"

Cindy refused to listen. Convinced I was trying to curse Eason, she screeched into the receiver, "How dare you try to curse Dad, Ian? Just you wait! There's no way I'm letting your father reach the hospital alive!"