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After the Vicious Sister-in-law Bullied My Whole Family Novel Cover

After the Vicious Sister-in-law Bullied My Whole Family

After preventing her sister-in-law, Kristine, and her mother from spending $700,000 on extreme cosmetic procedures, the protagonist becomes the target of relentless malice. The hostility peaks when a pregnant Kristine shoves her from a ninth-story window to her death, a crime her own mother covers up as a tragic accident. However, death is not the end. Awakening back on the very day the expensive surgery was first proposed, she is armed with the truth and a final chance to change her destiny.
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Chapter 4

The house purchase process was underway.

Even with all the busyness of dealing with the house and work, I made sure to bring carp soup to my mom every week.

Watching her gulp it down, almost burying her face in the bowl, I sighed deeply.

In my past life at this point, Kristine had already killed me.

Now, I could see them getting their comeuppance with my own eyes.

Kristine yawned as she waddled past me, glancing at the dishes on the table.

She pointed at the soup and said, "Pour me a bowl. I want some too."

I poured her a bowl and gently placed it in front of her.

Glancing at her belly, I casually asked, "Your due date is soon, right?"

She caressed her belly with a loving smile, her eyes overflowing with tenderness.

"Yes, only half a month left."

She looked so happy, completely unlike the venomous person who had killed me in my previous life.

I looked at her chest, and a cold glint flashed in my eyes.

"Kristine, does the cosmetic work you had done affect breastfeeding?"

Both of them froze. My mom slammed her bowl down on the table, her face livid with anger.

"What nonsense are you spouting? How could it affect anything? You're just being malicious."

My mom's reaction was the most intense. As I watched her heaving chest, I couldn't help but find it significant.

I almost forgot that my mom was a breastfeeding expert.

Kristine set her bowl down, giving me a disdainful look.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't go for those cheap treatments. It's all-natural, harmless to the body," she sneered.

"Why don't you focus on yourself? No matter how much you envy others, you shouldn't talk nonsense."

Hearing this, my mom couldn't sit still any longer. She flung her warm soup at my face.

I dodged, the soup splashing on the floor. My mom's curses echoed through the house.

"You wretched girl!"

Hearing those words again didn't faze me. Looking at them, I couldn't help but feel a bit of pity.

I was just trying to warn them. Since they wouldn't listen, it had nothing to do with me anymore.

The child was unlucky to have such a mother.

As I walked out the door, I overheard my mom on the phone, boasting about the increasingly nutritious milk she was selling, now so rich it needed a price increase.

My hand paused on the doorknob, a chill running through me.

Half a month later, Kristine gave birth to a son in the hospital.

When I arrived, the room was filled with laughter. Kristine lay weakly on the bed, a smile on her face.

My mom, chest out proudly, was calling everyone to share the good news. As I approached, she wobbled slightly.

"Oh, lately I've been feeling dizzy a lot. Could it be anemia?" She muttered, steadying herself against the wall.

My hand involuntarily clenched.

I couldn't see the baby yet. I set down my things, and my mom immediately told me to leave.

"Go on. Don't be an eyesore here.

"You irritate me just by being here."

Pretending not to care, I nodded and picked up the thermos.

"Mom, I made some special soup for you and Kristine. Drink it while it's hot."

My mom took the thermos, peeked inside, and nodded in satisfaction.

"At least you did one thing right. Go now. You're not needed here."

As usual, I nodded obediently, watching my mom rush back to the room. I couldn't help but smile.

Drink up for the milk.

With the baby born, my mom was too busy to focus on anything else. After sending Kristine and the baby to a postpartum center, she finally had time for her business.

Perhaps because she drank too much soup, the milk my mom sold became increasingly yellow and seemingly nutritious. More people came to her.

I often checked on my mom and Kristine. Seeing the yellowish milk bags in the fridge, I couldn't help but take a deep breath.

My mom and Kristine were in big trouble.

Things weren't peaceful at the postpartum center either. After leaving the hospital, my nephew frequently fell ill.

He was constantly sent back to the hospital, infuriating my mom.

"What kind of premium postpartum center is this? You're useless.

"You frauds, abusing my grandson."

The center fought back, showing my mom surveillance footage and confidently stating it wasn't their fault.

"We're professionals. If you don't believe us, call the police.

"All babies are treated the same. How could only your child have issues while others don't?"

The argument escalated, and eventually, the center refunded half the money and sent Kristine home.

"Ugh, what a scam! That so-called premium center is full of cheats."

My mom spat in the direction of the car, carefully placing the baby in Kristine's arms for nursing.

My nephew drank for a bit, then started vomiting and crying. Kristine, irritated, tried to soothe him and started feeding him again.

Seeing the baby's reluctance, I stayed silent. Kristine's milk, like my mom's, was yellower than usual.

I said nothing. What was there to fear? Like my mom said, it was just extra nutritious.

Back home, my nephew's condition didn't improve.

"He must not have been well cared for at the center. He'll get better at home.

"I'll make sure my grandson grows up strong and healthy."

My mom spoke confidently, slapping her chest as a sign of assurance.

Less than a week later, I got a phone call.

My nephew was dead.

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