PART 4 – THE PRICE OF BETRAYAL
The next day, Mom led a group of tabloid “journalists” straight into my company.
As soon as she saw me, she whispered in my ear threateningly:
“Transfer money to Marcus right now!
If you don’t, I’ll tell the whole world you’re an unfilial daughter who abandons her mother!”
Four or five cameras pointed directly at my face, filming every expression,
broadcasting live in the company lobby.
Before she could start her sob story, I suddenly dropped to my knees.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud! – three loud knocks echoed through the spacious lobby.
This unexpected action made her freeze.
I clenched my hands under the documents, pressing hard to make tears flow.
My voice trembling with emotion:
“Mom, I’m begging you, please stop this.
For Marcus’s wedding, I already gave so much money.
Now I really have nothing left.”
“Please look – my employees, my company… everything needs money to operate.”
“You can’t destroy everything I’ve built just for Marcus!”
“I’m your daughter too, your flesh and blood too.
Please love me just a little…”
People around us were moved to tears, their gazes all turning sympathetic toward me.
Mom was furious, shouting:
“What nonsense are you spouting!
Isn’t your money still the Harrison family’s money?
This company will eventually be Marcus’s anyway – what’s wrong with him using a little?”
I spoke up, my voice ice-cold:
“Mom, this company was built through my day and night efforts.
Just because you move your lips, it becomes Marcus’s?”
“When the company needed capital, I knelt before you begging for the money I’d sent you over the years,
and you kicked me down.
I haven’t forgotten.”
“I built myself back up from the ruins, and now you want to destroy it again?”
“Mom, are you really my birth mother?
Even wolves don’t eat their own cubs, yet you want to push me to my death?”
“Marcus is your child, but I’m your child too!”
Perhaps because my words were too real, too painful, and my voice grew increasingly choked with emotion,
she was left speechless.
She awkwardly turned and left, the group of “trending” journalists following behind.
I casually dusted off my knees and slowly stood up.
The video of me kneeling before Mom and crying was recorded by onlookers and posted online.
Comments exploded:
[Isn’t this a classic case of favoring sons over daughters?
The daughter works herself to death building a career,
and in the end still has to hand it all over to the son,
while the mother actively helps with the robbery!]
[This world really is a big stage for injustice!]
[Don’t know the full story so won’t judge, but you can see enough from this.]
[Could also be that she’s acting, wanting to use social media to smear her mother and brother.]
I read through them all and just smiled coldly.
Then I compiled all the evidence – years of money transfers to Mom,
every expense record of hers and Marcus’s.
Even Marcus’s “startup project” was entirely funded by withdrawals from my supplementary card.
Cross-referencing the bank statements, I discovered a number that shocked even me.
I had supported the family that once abandoned me with nearly a million dollars.
They cursed me and insulted me, yet lived off my money.
Consuming my blood and bones without shame.
I publicly released all the bank statements along with childhood memories of being neglected,
posting them online.
Public opinion quickly reversed.
[Heartbreaking!]
[A mother like that doesn’t deserve it!]
[How can people be so heartless!]
Within half a day, I went from “unfilial sinner” to a sympathetic strong woman.
My company took the opportunity to establish a scholarship fund called “Light,” supporting girls who face
unfair treatment in their families to continue their education.
Half a month later, I received a call from the police station back home.
Marcus had been arrested again, this time for assault with intent to harm.
After investigating, I learned –
Marcus had taken the video from before to the hotel to “catch them in the act,” and actually did:
Scarlett and the man with the expensive watch emerged from a double room.
The two were laughing and flirting, his hand slipping inside her shirt.
Marcus lost it, grabbed a beer bottle from a passerby, and smashed it directly into the man’s head.
Blood splattered everywhere, the man collapsed, blood pooling across the hallway.
Scarlett was so terrified she panicked, her face covered in blood,
legs shaking as she fell to the ground.
Marcus then slapped her several times.
However deep the love, that’s how deep the hate.
For Scarlett – a “troublemaker” – he had abandoned his sister who possessed millions in assets.
Passersby called police, and within ten minutes, officers arrived.
Marcus was restrained while Scarlett and the man were taken to the hospital.
One had a mild concussion, the other went to the ICU.
The compensation amount would bankrupt him for life.
When the man woke up, he said only two words:
“Prison time.”
Mom came begging for my help.
I only said coldly:
“The law isn’t a joke.
Do wrong, face consequences.”
After this series of shocks, Mom’s mental state collapsed completely.
The hospital called, and I instructed the doctor to transfer her to a psychiatric facility,
choosing the cheapest package for long-term care.
As for Scarlett – she was infamous now.
No man dared get involved with her anymore.
She knelt at the feet of the man with the watch, tears streaming, begging.
But he kicked her away, cursing:
“You diseased whore, that womb that’s buried the dead still wants to climb into my bed?”
The three hundred thousand he’d previously “paid” for her brother was also demanded back.
Later, the video of her brother being trapped in the “honey trap” was leaked throughout his company,
sent directly to leadership’s inboxes.
Result: fired the same day.
Competitors even posted the clip online, causing a social media frenzy.
Reputation destroyed, no company would hire him.
He turned to drinking, and whenever drunk, would beat Scarlett.
Her entire body was covered in bruises.
A year later, Marcus was released early for “good behavior.”
But learning that Scarlett had never once visited him, resentment boiled over.
He went to her house with a knife, raped her, then stabbed her to death on the spot.
The court sentenced him: twenty years in prison, lifetime deprivation of civil rights.
Next time he got out, he’d probably be an old man.
Hopefully by then, he’d have learned the meaning of “paying the price.”
I brought this news to the psychiatric hospital to tell Mom.
“You once called me trash, a bad daughter.”
“Now look – the son you loved most is the real criminal.”
Mom went completely insane, crying and screaming in her room daily, laughing while tears fell,
constantly repeating the word “regret.”
And in her delirious ramblings, my name – Sophia – was mentioned most often.
A year later, my company was running smoothly.
My best friend and I traveled to Northern Europe to see the aurora.
The sky blazed with stars, green and purple lights tearing through the night, breathtakingly beautiful.
We stood in sub-zero snow, wearing thick down jackets, hand in hand, smiling at each other.
The future – was opening brilliantly before us.
We both deserved happiness.
In the dark prison cell, Marcus held Scarlett’s photo, laughing and crying simultaneously.
“Scarlett, my darling…
I love you most in this world.
Wait for me to get out, I’ll apologize, I’ll make it up to you, I’ll live well with you.”
“Why haven’t you come to visit?
I miss you so much…”
A year after his early release, he carried her photoshopped picture and knocked on Scarlett’s door.
She opened it, her body covered in bruises, face pale.
Marcus lovingly tried to embrace her, but she pushed him away hard:
“You’re out of prison?”
Her eyes were panicked, constantly glancing behind her.
He was still lost in reunion joy, not noticing anything unusual.
He leaned down to kiss her but received a slap across the face.
“Get lost!
You ex-con trash still dare dream about me?”
Marcus was stunned.
“Scarlett, you’re not like before…
You said you loved me!”
That look made him go insane.
Marcus pulled out a fruit knife from his pocket, threatening her.
Scarlett trembled with fear, her whole body shaking.
Then in his madness, he tore off her pants and forced himself on her.
Finally, he stabbed once, fatally, still mumbling like a man possessed:
“I love you…
I love you…”
The end.
