The Blood Sucking Family I Married Into Refused to Let Me Go

"I think there's probably truth to this," someone whispered nearby.

"If it weren’t serious, what man would drop to his knees and beg like that? That’s not something you do unless you’ve run out of options.”

“Guess you never really know someone,” another added. “I never would've thought Aisha was that kind of person.”

I was trembling with rage that my entire body shook.

I pulled out my phone, trying to explain myself. “I didn’t take—”

But the crowd drowned me out, their voices cutting like knives.

“If you didn’t take it, why would he give up his dignity and kneel like that?”

“If I were you, I’d die of shame.”

After everything—the earlier scene, and now Alessio’s public kneeling—I was officially done for this job.

And I was an accountant, no less.

Alessio stood off to the side, gloating openly.

He mouthed at me smugly, “That’s what you get for not giving me the money.”

I clenched my jaw so tightly it felt like I’d crack my back molars.

Black spots danced in my vision from sheer anger.

Security finally escorted him out, but just as he left, HR called me in.

“Aisha,” the HR representative said with a professional smile, “our company values compassion. If you need time to sort out personal matters, perhaps it’s best to focus on that first before returning to work.”

It sounded kind, but I knew what it really meant.

You're done here.

Accountants with two legs were easy to replace.

I inhaled deeply and forced a calm expression. “Thank you for the opportunity. I’ll resign.”

Under the strange, judging stares of my coworkers, I packed my things and left without looking back.

On the way home, the more I walked, the faster I moved. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

I was already plotting my revenge.

“Aisha! Aisha!”

A voice snapped me out of my thoughts—it was Aunt Esme, a neighbor.

She hurried over to me, her expression urgent.

“You need to go home now. Your husband has really crossed the line this time.”

What now? Did Alessio go cause trouble at my parents’ house too?!

I rushed home, only to stop dead in my tracks at the sight of the mess.

Red paint splashed all over our door, garbage strewn across the ground.

My hands trembled—I couldn’t even hold my things steady.

“Mom! Dad! Are you okay?!”

My mother was wearing gloves, picking up trash.

Seeing my panic, both my parents tried to comfort me instead.

“We’re fine,” Mom said lightly. “Just the door and floor are dirty. He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on us—if he did, I’d sue him for at least a hundred thousand dollars.”

She tried to be playful, but I couldn’t even fake a smile.

Dad let out a heavy sigh. “I remember when you first said that family wasn’t marriage material. I thought you were being arrogant. Turns out, they really are shameless.”

I took my father’s hand. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not one to be bullied either.”

Alessio had stomped all over my bottom line.

If I didn’t retaliate, I’d be doing my overworked mammary glands a disservice.

That very night, I went out and bought a loudspeaker and a banner.

At dawn, I set up shop right under Alessio’s apartment building.

Some curious onlookers came by.

“Hey, didn’t you take five hundred thousand from the Chapman family to help your own?”

I had no idea what Alessio had been spreading around the neighborhood, but clearly, he wasn’t planning to let me live in peace.

“What, you came here just to mock me too?”

My tone was sharp—I assumed she was just another gossip monger trying to rub salt in the wound.

The woman, a well-known neighborhood busybody with a sharp tongue, waved her hands in dismissal.

“Oh, please. That family? With their spending habits, saving five hundred thousand was highly unlikely. I only eat real gossip, not hearsay.”

“I’m not one of those people who believe anything they hear.” She shrugged.

I looked at her in surprise, and nodded in appreciation.

Well, there was nothing wrong with gossip—at least she knew how to separate facts from fiction.

Soon, a group of elderly morning joggers started gathering around.

I flipped on the loudspeaker.

Out blasted the hilariously tacky—but oddly catchy—recording.

“The Chapman family falsely accused me of taking five hundred thousand to support my birth family. They even got me fired from my job. What a sick world—what a twisted society!”

“Is this a distortion of human nature—or a complete collapse of morality?!”

The loudspeaker blared, and within minutes, a crowd had gathered.

People love good scandal.

I lowered my head and let out a cold laugh.

At first, I thought we could just divorce quietly and move on. But now? I was going to take control of the narrative.

I wouldn’t let Alessio drag my name through the mud.

If he couldn’t understand reasons, I’d force him to.

“Aisha! What the hell are you doing?!”

Alessio had rushed over after getting wind of the scene, even taking a day off work.

“You won’t return the money, and now you’re flipping the blame onto me?”

He tried to snatch the loudspeaker from my hands. I stepped back and snapped, “You’re the one who started spreading lies about me!”

But Alessio shrugged, unbothered.

Taking a deep breath, I continued, “You think I took the five hundred thousand? Fine. Let’s settle it right here in front of everyone.”

“If I really took it, I’ll transfer the money back to you on the spot.”

“But if I didn’t, you owe my parents an apology—and a hundred thousand dollars for emotional distress.”

I raised an eyebrow, poking at his pride. “What? Afraid of the truth?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned for someone to start recording.

“Once this is settled,” he declared, “you go your way, I’ll go mine. I don’t want a wife like you.”

I calmly opened the household account ledger on my phone and began from the top.

Just as I was about to start, a shrill voice cut through the air.

“Who said you could start the audit?!”