Chapter 5

Outside the emergency room at Mount Sinai Hospital, the white walls were as cold as a morgue freezer.

*Tick, tock, tick, tock...*

The wall clock marched on, each second feeling like a boot stomping on my carotid artery.

The money from the underground lender arrived fast; the broker was efficient. But I was still too late.

Just as the expensive shot of adrenaline was pushed into his veins, the curve on the monitor flattened into a piercing, endless line.

*Beeeeeeep—*

That long, high-pitched tone announced the total collapse of my world.

The lead surgeon pushed open the door and pulled down his mask, his face etched with deep regret and helplessness.

"Miss Vance, I am so sorry. The patient arrived too late. The intracranial pressure was too high, leading to herniation... If you had been even thirty minutes earlier—no, even ten minutes earlier with the payment—the outcome might have been different."

Ten minutes.

Just because of those ten minutes.

If Julian hadn't questioned me with such arrogance on the phone, if he hadn't frozen that money to force me to my knees, if Seraphina hadn't spun that web of lies.

That man, holding the power of life and death on Wall Street in his hands, used his self-righteous "need for control" and his blind "trust" in Seraphina to personally sever my father's last lifeline.

I didn't cry. When grief is absolute, tears don't come.

I just mechanically signed the death certificate, watched them cover my father with a white sheet, and push him toward the freezing morgue.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

The screen lit up with a text from Julian.

The timestamp showed it was sent the exact second my father took his last breath.

"Elara, stop making a scene. It's raining outside. I sent the driver to pick you up. As long as you come home now, I'll pretend the lies you told today never happened. I'll transfer that fifty thousand to you as pocket money. Be a good girl, stop being willful."

Looking at the glaring words "good girl" on the screen, I suddenly laughed out loud.

---

Meanwhile, inside the luxurious Manhattan villa.

Julian wasn't chatting with Seraphina like usual. instead, he stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window, frowning as he watched the rainstorm intensify outside.

He gripped his phone tightly, the screen's light reflecting the anxiety and unease in his eyes.

"Julian," Seraphina wheeled herself over, holding a cup of hot milk. Her voice was soft. "It's so late, why aren't you sleeping? Are you still angry with Elara?"

Julian put away his phone and rubbed his brow irritably. "It's raining so hard. She has no money, and she's so stubborn... Seraphina, do you think I went too far? What if Oliver really..."

After hanging up, he felt more and more panicked. Even though he was convinced Elara was playing the victim to force his hand, he couldn't shake the sound of her desperate sobbing from his mind.

"Why would you think that?"

Seraphina sighed, a glint of calculation flashing in her eyes. She put down the milk and took Julian's hand.

"I know you're soft-hearted. But I was worried too, so I asked Mom to call the nursing home's front desk just now to check."

Julian whipped his head around. "What did they say?"

Seraphina looked innocent, lying without blinking an eye.

"The nurse said Uncle Oliver went to sleep ages ago. His vitals are normal. There was no brain hemorrhage, and definitely no emergency resuscitation."

"Elara... she really is lying to you."

Seraphina lowered her head, acting indignant on his behalf.

"She's probably just upset you cut off her cards and felt her pride was wounded, so she made up this ridiculous lie to scare you. She just wants to see what's more important to you: her 'face' or your principles."

"Julian, this is emotional blackmail. If you go soft and look for her now, she'll think she won. In the future, whenever she doesn't get her way, she'll use Uncle Oliver's health to threaten you."

Hearing this, the sliver of worry in Julian's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by the disappointment and anger of being played.

"Emotional blackmail..." He sneered, clenching his fist. "She's right. I've spoiled her."

He had been worried she was truly desperate. He didn't expect it to be just a prank to force him to unfreeze her accounts.

Joking about her father's life and death—it was simply unreasonable.

"Since she wants to act, let her act to her heart's content." Julian turned his back to the storm outside, his voice hard. "When she's suffered enough out there and realizes she can't take a single step without me, she'll come back begging."

He thought this was his "lesson" to her, a way to maintain his dominance in the relationship.

He was even mentally calculating how he would magnanimously forgive her when she came back to apologize, maybe even buy her that brooch she had been eyeing for a long time.

He had no idea that his self-righteous "principles" were the greatest blasphemy against the dead.

---

Holding the urn that felt incredibly heavy in this moment, I returned to the place my father had cared about most in his life—Vance Manor.

This once-glorious Baroque estate was now sealed with bank tape, about to be auctioned off as Seraphina's "trophy."

Like a ghost, I climbed in through a broken window in the back garden.

My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. The walls, once covered with masterpieces, now bore only mottled outlines. Clutching the urn, I climbed step by step up to the dusty attic.

"Dad, I'm sorry..."

I stroked the cold redwood floorboards, my eyes vacant.

Just as I was preparing to place my father's ashes there temporarily, a loose floorboard caught my attention. There seemed to be a hidden compartment underneath.

Driven by some unseen force, I pried open the board.

Lying underneath was an iron box wrapped tightly in oil paper. Opening it, I found a thick leather-bound diary and a hard drive sealed in an anti-static bag.

A sticky note was attached to the hard drive, bearing my father's shaky handwriting: **[Five years in the making, data finally recovered. This is the best wedding gift for Elara.]**

Trembling, I opened the diary first.

I expected it to be filled with resentment over the family bankruptcy or worries about the future.

But I was wrong.

Every page, every word, was about Julian.

**[December 24, 2023]**

"Today was the first time that kid Julian came home for Christmas Eve. He actually teared up looking at the table full of food, said he was an orphan and never felt the warmth of a family. I patted his shoulder and told him: 'Once you enter the Vance home, you're my own son.' Watching him and Elara unwrap gifts under the tree, I felt this life was worth it."

**[May 20, 2024]**

"Julian hit a bottleneck with his startup, can't sleep at night. I sold that antique pocket watch I've had for thirty years and quietly put the money into his account. I didn't tell him, didn't want to hurt the kid's pride. As long as he succeeds, as long as he can make Elara happy, what do these old bones matter?"

**[August 15, 2025]**

"Today Julian called me 'Dad.' I was so happy I had a couple extra drinks. The kid had a tough start, but he's got grit. He's a good man. I feel safe handing Elara over to him. On their wedding day, I have to personally place my daughter's hand in his and tell him: I don't ask for riches, I only ask that he never fails the apple of my eye."

**[November 1, 2025]**

"My health is getting worse, but I have to hold on. The data recovery team I hired at great expense finally sent good news. The surveillance hard drive from the yacht fire that year is 99% recovered. I know Elara was framed. That Seraphina girl has a wicked heart. Once the data is fully restored, I can clear my daughter's name at the engagement party and sweep away the last obstacle for the young couple..."

Huge teardrops smashed onto the yellowed pages. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe.

It turned out, Dad knew everything.

It turned out, he had been silently protecting us all along.

He loved Julian like his own son, even sacrificing so much in secret to protect Julian's ego.

To his dying day, he thought Julian was a good man for me.

To his dying day, he was paving the way for our happiness.

But he never imagined that the person who would eventually drive him to his death was the "good son" he treated as his own.

Julian, look at this.

This is the old man you claimed "used you" and "looked down on you."

This is the Vance family you said "deserved to die."

He gave you the only fatherly love he had, and you used your arrogance and prejudice to personally pull his plug.

I put down the soaked diary and picked up the hard drive.

Inside was my innocence, bought with the last of my father's time.

After the fire five years ago, the yacht's surveillance system was destroyed. Everyone thought the evidence was gone.

But Dad didn't give up. He spent five whole years searching for the world's top data recovery experts, finally extracting the truth from that charred chip.

I plugged the drive into the tablet I carried with me.

Although the image was a bit blurry, it was still clear enough to see—

Inside the bottom cabin, Seraphina wasn't locked in.

She looked manic. Holding an exquisite lighter, she smiled a terrifying smile at the camera, then personally set fire to the heavy velvet curtains.

Immediately after, she locked the cabin door from the inside, took out her phone, and started dialing 911, instantly switching to a sobbing voice:

"Help... Elara locked me inside... It's on fire... Save me..."

The truth was out.

There was no bullying. No attempted murder.

Only a lunatic who staged a bitter self-injury plot to scam insurance money, eliminate a love rival, and emotionally kidnap Julian.

And for this lunatic, Julian killed the "father" he respected most.

"Heh..."

I laughed out loud in the dim attic. The sound was shrill, startling the crows outside the window.

Dad hid these two things here, originally intending to give us a surprise at the engagement party.

Now, they had become the sharpest butcher's knife.

I wiped the dried tears from my face and tucked the hard drive and diary close to my body.

The deathly silence in my eyes faded in an instant, replaced by a fire of revenge strong enough to burn everything down.

Julian, Seraphina.

You're looking forward to tomorrow's engagement party, aren't you?

Good.

I will attend on time, carrying my father's "last wish."

I will show you what it truly means to kill the heart.

I took out my phone and dialed Julian.

He picked up almost instantly.

"Elara? Where are you?" Julian's voice couldn't hide his anxiety, mixed with a trace of smugness that I had finally bowed my head. "I knew you'd come around. Just come back, I'll listen to whatever you say..."

"Julian."

I cut him off, my voice as calm as the sea before a storm.

"Tomorrow is the engagement party."

"I'll be there on time. And I'm bringing a real 'big gift' for you and Seraphina."

Without waiting for his response, I hung up directly. I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw it into the dust.

In this moment, the Elara who loved Julian died along with her father.