Everleigh Dad Cause Of Death Novels & Stories

“I made you and Dad argue. I’ll leave tomorrow morning.” Her mother’s hand stilled. “Honey, your father loves you. He’s just angry. You can stay as long as you need to.” Amelia nodded. A long silence passed before her mother gently asked, “What happened, sweetheart? How’s Eva?” At the mention of her daughter, Amelia’s heart shattered all over again. Pain clutched her chest. Eva’s laughter, her tiny hands, gone. Her mother didn’t know. “Eva is dead.” Evelyn froze. Her eyes widened in horror.

His stern baritone voice echoed around the austere study of our mansion. Of course, I knew of his punishments. They were as severe as his principles. He spared no one, not even my mom. And I wouldn’t feel surprised if she had died from his punishments. Shrouded in a web of mystery, the cause of her death was a forbidden topic. No one knew what happened to my mom, Evelyn Bardot, fifteen years ago. My oldest brother, Louis, stepped forward to support my father’s decision. It was always this way, and I was used to the scene. Almost thirteen years older, Louis was worse than Dad.

Across the city, Olivia sits in her car, hands still shaking. Her phone buzzes. "Your father didn't die from shock. He was poisoned. Slowly. Night after night." She reads the words three times. "Doctor Charles Weiller. The one who gave him the sleeping pills. The ones you gave him every night." Her hand flies to her mouth. The pills she poured. The pills she placed in her father's hand. "You're lying." "Ask yourself why Weiller insisted on being the only doctor. Why he came at night."

“But everyone said he died of a heart attack.” Her grandfather’s expression hardened. “That’s the story they told. But Evelyn… I’ve been investigating the truth. Your father didn’t die of a heart attack. He took his own life. The despair was too much for him to handle. He was a scapegoat—a pawn in a much bigger game.” Her mind spun as she tried to process the bombshell. “A scapegoat for who?”

What did he say? Did I hear him right? As if he was able to read the question in my face, he said, "You heard me right, Eve. Your mother, Doris Walters, and your father, George Delluci, are dead. It was reported as murder and still under investigation, but I'm sure it was Vienna's doings." "No…" I shook my head. "That's not true! That is… impossible!" "If you are still not convinced, see it for yourself," he said flatly as he pointed the bedside table with a nod.

Finally, “Your father never talked about it. But I found newspaper clippings once. She died in a hit-and-run. They never caught who did it.” “Did Dad ever seem suspicious about it? Like maybe it wasn’t an accident?” “He never said. But sometimes he’d get this look. Sad and angry at the same time. Like he knew something but couldn’t prove it.” She paused. “Why are you asking about this now?” “Just trying to understand our family history. That’s all.” “Be careful, Elowen. Your father dug too deep into things that got him killed. Don’t make the same mistake.” “I won’t. I promise.”

He waited for Elice's explanation. "Because there were rumors that your grandfather's heart attack was caused by something else. I thought..." Elice's forehead seemed more wrinkled. She tried hard to remember. But she wasn't sure what the name of the medicine was. "...there was a drug found in your grandfather's drink. And this chemical was discovered during the autopsy," Elice continued. "The same goes for your father's death. Your father's body condition couldn't be attributed to an accident. His face was crushed."

“Go ahead! Let’s see how John will punish you when he is back. “Well, maybe you don’t care what happens to you, but you do care what happens to your brother, don’t you?” Then, Dorothy put on a creepy smile. “By the way, do you know how your dad died?” Olivia froze and gasped. Her heart hammered in her chest. Two years ago, her father committed suicide. She found out it through the news on the television. Olivia did not even get the chance to hear his last words. She did not even see her father’s body. By the time she got there, nothing was left but ashes. Thinking about it, Olivia felt she was too naive.

“She died in a car accident two months ago.” The way he said it—God—it almost sounded like he could cry. Like he actually cared. “Oh geez,” Olivia whispered sadly. “I’m sorry about that, son,” my father said gently, placing a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “But how come we never heard about it? You’re a prominent figure. That kind of news would’ve spread like wildfire.” Only if you knew, Dad. Only if you knew the hell I lived through in his house as his so-called wife.