Chapter 3

"What?" Jeremy snatched the black bank card out of Kyle's hand.

He stared at the gold embossing on the card—a symbol of a seven-figure net worth. When he turned to me, his gaze was filled with pure contempt.

"Unbelievable, Nathan! Not only did you ruin Lilian, but you actually had the nerve to steal our emergency funds! I knew you had that rotten, low-class streak in your blood. 20 years of raising you, and you're still the same!"

Staring at Jeremy's bitter face, I disassociated for a second.

Just six months ago, on my 20th birthday, he had gently slipped a supplementary credit card into my hand and patted my shoulder.

"Nathan, you're my pride," he had said. "Spend whatever you want. As long as I'm around, no one will ever bully you."

But the moment Kyle returned, 20 years of love were instantly torn to shreds.

I struggled to my feet and said coldly, "I didn't steal your money! I made that money from stone gambling on the antique market. Give it back!"

"Stone gambling? A country bumpkin like you who can't even afford a meal?"

Lilian laughed mockingly from her hospital bed, her eyes gleaming with sudden greed.

"Dad, don't listen to this bastard's excuses! He definitely stole that money from us! My rehab is going to cost a fortune anyway. Keep the card. Consider what he owes me!"

Listening to her claim my money so righteously, I felt a wave of profound irony.

Once, when I was being bullied, she was the one who had grabbed a baseball bat, stood in front of me, and yelled with bloodshot eyes, "If anyone touches a single hair on my brother's head, I'll destroy them!"

Now, everything had changed.

Kyle gently tugged at Jeremy's sleeve and spoke up timidly. "Nathan, stop lying to Dad. The antique street is full of scammers. You didn't even have lunch money, so how could you possibly make one million dollars from stone gambling?

"Just apologize to Dad. As long as you admit you took our money, I'm sure he won't call the cops and have you thrown in prison…"

His words sounded like a plea for mercy, but every syllable was designed to seal my guilt as a thief.

As expected, Jeremy flew into an even greater rage. "Call the cops? That's too easy on him! Pin him down!"

The two bodyguards lunged forward, locking my arms behind my back.

The puncture wound from the blood draw ripped wide open, and fresh blood began to trickle down my arm.

Jeremy didn't even look at me. He safely tucked the black bank card into his pocket and sneered. "Your money? We paid for your food and clothes! Where would you get one million dollars? This card is confiscated. It's going toward Lilian's medical bills!"

With that, he pulled a document from his bag and whipped it into my face. "You don't deserve to be a part of this family anymore! Sign these severance papers and get the hell out!"

As I looked at this hideous group of "family members", any warmth I once held for them turned to ash.

The moment I signed the severance papers, the bodyguards finally let me go.

I staggered to my feet. I didn't ask for the bank card back, nor did I waste another breath.

That card required my biometric verification to withdraw a single cent. The thing they had just stolen was nothing but a useless piece of plastic.

Before walking out of the ward, I glanced back one last time.

Jeremy was tenderly comforting Lilian. The text floating above his head had shifted. "Fortune score: 1%. Countdown to financial ruin: Three hours."