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I Let Him Crash Into Destiny Novel Cover

I Let Him Crash Into Destiny

After his training, my brother becomes obsessed with marrying Wendy Hewitt, a powerful billionaire heiress. In my past life, I stopped him from intentionally crashing into her car to stage a meeting, an act that led to my murder at his hands years later. Now, I have been reborn into the passenger seat on that fateful day. Instead of saving our family from financial ruin, I remain silent. I watch as he accelerates his car, smashing into Wendy's fifty-million-dollar vehicle to seal his own doom.
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Chapter 2

Snap

Wendy got into the Maybach that had come to pick her up, while a tow truck hauled the supercar away.

My car's hood was twisted out of shape, and one of the headlights had been smashed. "I just got my car yesterday, and you totaled it! What will you do about it?"

Yves ignored my question all the way.

…

The moment we hit home, he grabbed our mother's arm and complained that I was being pushy.

My mother, Fiona Lawson, patted Yves lovingly and told me to handle the mess myself. "I can't believe you'd make Yves handle it. It's such a trivial matter. You're his brother, for God's sake."

It was a few hours ago that Yves insisted on driving my car. He had no license and had failed his driving test five times.

Worried about his safety, Fiona insisted that I followed Yves.

Johnny West, my stepfather, came out of the kitchen with a fruit platter, but it only had three forks. The three of them happily ate the fruit, pretending I did not exist.

"Wendy kept staring at me the whole time. I thought she'd be hard to win over, but she's just like every other woman," Yves bragged. He smugly took his phone out and showed everyone that he had her number.

Johnny clapped his hands. "And when you marry her, we'll be the Hewitts' in-laws!"

Even Fiona was starting to come up with fantasies about her life of luxury.

Yves stabbed a piece of fruit and fed it to Fiona. He said, "Mom, I'm still three hundred grand short for the heirmaking course."

Fiona frowned, but she did not give him the money right away.

Our entire family was supported by the income from a shop in the old city district. Unfortunately, the latest urban development plans had completely bypassed that area, and business had taken a sharp downturn.

The heirmaking course charged five hundred grand per person. Its bold promise was that its students would learn how to marry into high society.

In the three years after college, Yves spent his days going through cosmetic surgeries and taking photos wherever he went. His full-time job was crafting his rich heir persona.

The 200-grand deposit had cleared out Fiona's savings.

Johnny adjusted his golden bracelet and shot back, "Fiona, he signed up for that course so you can live large. If you can't even cover the bill, you're getting nothing when he makes it big."

Then, he added pointedly, "Besides, someone in this family has a job. Family should help family."

In my previous life, my family took on a mountain of debts just to help Yves marry up. The debt collectors rioted outside my company just to collect their payment. Because of them, I lost my job.

These people had no idea that Wendy's supercar had been wrecked, and they were convinced she would never make Yves pay for the repairs. Unlike them, I was not about to gamble everything on a fantasy where Yves married into wealth.

Before they could say anything, I told them I was moving out. "I've found the place, and I'll change my address."

Johnny clicked his tongue. "You're just jealous that Yves can marry into money. Looks are everything for a man. A man's job is to marry a rich woman. Jealousy won't get you anywhere, Felix. You? Moving out on your salary? Don't make me laugh."

My phone buzzed.

An urgent meeting had been called. I went into my room, gathered the files I needed, and got ready to head to work.

Yves did not even bother hiding his contempt. "You're working for nothing. How much do you make every month? Three thousand. I'll have more money in my pinky than you'll ever have in your life."

Haughtily, Fiona sneered. "Now's your chance to butter up to Yves. If you please him enough, he might give you a house for free, and you won't have to move."

A wide, foolish grin spread across Yves' face.

He was waiting for me to bend my back. I tightened my grip on the files and looked over the family of three.

"The Hewitts' money isn't Yves', but my money is always mine. But my money will always be mine. Pretty privilege is real, but if being pretty is all you have, you're finished…" I paused before adding, "If I were you, I'd first find out what kind of car Wendy drives."

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