Chapter 3 They Came for My Money

I froze for a moment.

I looked at the man in front of me, dressed like an old rocker who refused to grow up. This was someone with late-stage liver cancer?

"The doctor said he needs surgery and chemotherapy. It'll cost at least 500,000 upfront."

My mom sighed, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of genuine worry on her face.

"You know we've been keeping the band going these past few years. Art isn't cheap. We've been strapped for cash, racked up some debt, and now we can't even afford the hospital bills.

"Lucas, you work for a major company. I heard people in your field get year-end bonuses worth hundreds of thousands. You have money, don't you?"

So all that concern had just been building up to this. They wanted money.

I let out a cold laugh. "500,000? I made myself perfectly clear four years ago. That 200,000 ended our relationship. Getting sick is part of that freedom too. You're on your own.

"Just like when I had a high fever and you told me to figure it out myself. Now I'm giving those words right back to you. Consider it a chance to learn to survive on your own."

Done wasting words on them, I pointed at the door. "Get out."

My parents clearly had not expected me to refuse so completely.

My dad's slightly hunched back straightened at once. He pointed a finger at my face. "Lucas, I'm your father! I've got cancer. I'm dying, and you're telling me to get out?

"I raised you! Do you have any idea how many times over I spent 200,000 on you? And now I'm asking for 500,000 to save my life, and you're standing here keeping score?"

My mom got to her feet too, hands on her hips. "Exactly! You ungrateful brat! You make so much money at that big company. What's wrong with paying for your dad's treatment?"

Spit flew as she yelled.

Expressionless, I wiped my face, took out my phone, and started recording. I aimed the camera at them. "Keep going. Say a few more words, and I'll post the video online."

The moment they saw the phone pointed at them, they shrank back.

They had never made a name for themselves, but they'd spent years chasing internet fame on short-video platforms.

The one thing they feared most was bad publicity.

"You… You wouldn't dare!"

"Get out." I pointed at the door again, my voice as cold as ice. "If you don't leave now, I'll call the police and report you for trespassing."

They exchanged a look.

In the end, my mom gritted her teeth and dragged my dad out.

I remained where I was, my hand still trembling slightly.

For them to show up so suddenly, they had to be out of options. There was no way they were going to let this go.

Sure enough, they came to my company the very next day.

I had expected it. Even so, their shamelessness still made me sick.

They stood outside my office building holding up a white banner with black lettering. "Lucas Hunter Earns a Seven-Figure Salary but Leaves His Father With Cancer to Die! What a Disgrace!"

It was the morning rush, and coworkers streamed past in every direction.

My dad sat in a wheelchair wearing a hospital gown, his face deathly pale.

My mom kneeled beside him with a megaphone, crying out to the crowd. "Everyone, please tell me if this is right! My husband and I sacrificed everything to raise our son!

"We sold our house, sold our car, and even gave up medical treatment just so we could pay his tuition. Now he's got a good job at a big company, but he threw us out and left his own father to die!

Then she lifted the megaphone and shouted toward the building. "Lucas, come out! Look at your father. He's dying!"