They Turned My House into a Columbarium, They Became Corpses

Georgette's POV

“Georgette, you’re there all by yourself. I don’t want you getting taken advantage of,” my dad said urgently over the phone. “Don’t worry, I’m sending someone over right away.”

A few years ago, Dad’s company was doing exceptionally well, with a bright future ahead. So, he decided to relocate the business overseas. At the time, Jerry and I were already engaged.

Since I had a lot on my plate with the company abroad, Jerry and I agreed we’d get married once I wrapped up everything overseas and returned home.

I still remember the day I left. Jerry held my hand so tightly, clearly reluctant to let me go. He promised he’d wait for me and give me a perfect wedding when I came back.

But it had only been a year, and the man I returned to barely felt like the same person.

Now he treated me like I was just throwing a spoiled tantrum.

At this point, I wasn’t even angry anymore. I was simply disappointed.

Dad said he’d get our lawyer involved to handle the matter. After all, that house was a wedding gift from him to me, and the purchase record was still in his name.

As for the property title, it was with my team overseas, but my assistant had already sent me clear photos of it. That house was definitely under my name.

So, as for Beatrice showing up at the property management with her own title, claiming it was hers, I already had my suspicions.

About six months ago, Jerry told me he wanted to help manage the house while I was away. I didn’t think much of it. I assumed he just wanted to prepare our future home.

As such, I handed him the keys without hesitation. Later, he even asked me for a copy of the property title. Again, I didn’t think twice. I snapped a photo and sent it to him.

Now it was obvious. That photo had been used to create a fake deed. Beatrice must’ve used it to register the house as hers.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

While I was still waiting, fuming, Jerry finally showed up with Beatrice beside him.

He stormed over the moment he got out of the car and started yelling at me.

“Georgette, how long are you going to keep this up? So what if I let them stay in your house for a bit? Do you have to be so petty about it?”

He looked me in the eye, clearly furious. “Besides, that’s our marital house. I have just as much say in what happens to it. I let Beatrice’s mom stay there. What’s wrong with that? Would you really let an old woman sleep on the street?”

I stared at him, my expression turning cold with disbelief. Then I laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Jerry, if you want to play the good guy, use your own house. Why are you lending out mine? Do you even know what she’s doing in there?” I snapped.

He froze for a second, then said coldly, “She’s an old lady. What could she possibly do in it? Even if she broke a few things, I’ll just pay to have them fixed. What’s the big deal? And you dragged me out of work over this?”

Then he narrowed his eyes at me and said in an icy tone, “Georgette, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. I think... I need to reconsider our engagement.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

His father pleaded with mine to arrange this engagement since their business only stayed afloat because of our family. Without our support, their family would've crumbled years ago.

Back then, I actually thought Jerry was a good match, so I agreed to the engagement willingly.

But clearly, he believed I couldn’t live without him.