The Price of Being Right
Evil SILFamily EmotionsFace SlappingKarmaMale POVIndependenceBiasPlot TwistsFeel-Good StoryMelodramatic
To keep my grandmother's failing organs stable, I simmered a medicinal broth for her every day and strictly controlled her diet.
Then the Whitmore family's long-lost real son was brought home.
"You're feeding my grandmother something that looks like slop? Julian Whitmore, what kind of heart does a fake son like you have?"
The butler wiped sweat from his forehead. "Sir, this is Mr. Whitmore's specially prepared medicinal broth. The old madam's been drinking it for years, and her health has only--"
"Shut up!"
Tyler Whitmore threw an all-foreign-language menu in my face.
"I've consulted top nutritionists overseas. What Grandma needs now is protein!"
"I've had the finest bluefin tuna flown in. From now on, I'll handle Grandma's diet myself."
My grandma, Irene Whitmore, stayed silent. She merely glanced at me, which counted as approval.
I forced out a smile and turned to leave.
"Fine. Then take good care of her."
They had no idea Grandma had been poisoned with a rare tropical toxin.
That bowl of medicine was a suppressant I had prepared specifically for her. Once she stopped taking it and touched seafood or other triggering foods, the poison would backlash instantly.
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