My Husband Killed My Father for Power

His words hit me like a hammer to the chest.

Rage surged through me, and I felt a sudden, crushing tightness as if my heart had clenched into a fist.

“Nathan!” I screamed into the phone. “I don’t have time to fight with you! Get out of the way—I need to see my father!”

But Nathan merely sighed, his tone filled with disdain.

“It seems you still don’t understand your mistake. Calm down. Think it over and apologize properly.”

Click.

He hung up.

I dialed again. And again.

But each time, his phone went straight to voicemail. He had shut me out completely.

Lucas, who had been checking his GPS beside me, suddenly shouted, “There’s a shortcut! I know another way—hold on!”

He spun the wheel sharply, taking a turn into a narrow alleyway.

I clutched my phone with white knuckles, every second ticking by like a countdown to disaster. My chest heaved, lungs tight with panic. We had less than half an hour.

At 8:30 sharp, we finally arrived. The car screeched to a halt just a few hundred meters from the back entrance of the courthouse—too narrow for the vehicle to pass through.

Lucas didn’t hesitate. “Get out and run! Now!”

I grabbed my crutches, flung the car door open, and stumbled forward.

My leg throbbed painfully with every step. But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

I had to make it.

At last, I saw him—Lawyer Carter—standing at the courthouse entrance. His figure was tense, unmoving.

“Evidence!” I shouted hoarsely as I ran toward him. “Lawyer Carter! This is the evidence! Give it to the judge now!”

I shoved the wooden box into his hands, breathless, eyes wild with urgency.

But then... something felt off.

He didn’t move.

His hands didn’t even rise to catch the box.

It slipped through his fingers and hit the ground with a dull thud.

“What are you doing?!” I snapped, panicked, grabbing it off the ground. “This is everything we’ve worked for!”

Lawyer Carter's face was pale, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“Ms. Eva...” he said quietly. “There’s been news from the prison. Your father…”

My heart stopped.

He hesitated, then said it.

“…he committed suicide this morning. He hit his head against the wall.”

Everything around me slowed.

I stared at him, the world ringing in my ears.

“What… what did you say?” I whispered.

“No,” I shook my head. “My father raised me alone. He’s faced worse. He would never… He wouldn’t give up now! You’re lying!”

I turned to run inside. “I want to see him! Let me see him!”

But Lawyer Carter blocked my path. “Please… accept my condolences.”

His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone. “This is from the prison’s surveillance this morning.”

He played the footage.

On the screen, I saw my father adjusting his prison uniform, smoothing the collar.

He turned to face the camera and opened his mouth. There was no sound, but I could read the words clearly.

“Daughter… I don’t want to be your burden. From here on, walk your road without me.”

Tears blurred the image. My legs gave out.

I fell to my knees, clutching the phone to my chest.

“No…”

I replayed the footage over and over, forcing myself to watch the moment he stepped back... and slammed his head into the wall.

Again. And again.

Until everything went black.

---

When I woke up, the hospital room was quiet.

Lucas sat beside me, eyes swollen, face drawn with grief. He had clearly been crying.

I didn’t say anything for a long time.

Then, calmly, I spoke the first words since regaining consciousness.

“I want to leave, Lucas. I don’t want to stay in this city anymore.”

He nodded immediately. “I’ll go wherever you go, Eva.”

His unwavering voice gave me strength.

Without another word, I began packing.

When I collected my father’s ashes, my heart was numb. I didn’t cry anymore. There was nothing left to grieve.

At the airport, I canceled my phone service. Then, without hesitation, I dropped my phone into a trash bin.

From this moment on, Nathan and I were over.

Forever.

---

That same morning, Nathan woke up beside Madeline, tangled in bedsheets and perfumed comfort.

His phone buzzed.

He picked it up lazily and glanced at the calendar notification.

Today: Mr. Shaw’s final court hearing.

He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

Although he had ignored Eva these past two days, he hadn’t meant anything serious by it. He assumed she’d cool off, and he’d swoop in like always—just in time to play the hero.

So, casually, he sent a message:

“Are you calm now? I’ll come pick you up. Don’t worry, everything is arranged. Your father’s sentence will definitely be reduced.”

Message failed to send.

Frowning, he tried again.

No response.

He called. The line didn’t even ring.

A strange unease began to creep in.

He got out of bed despite Madeline’s sleepy protests and rushed to Eva’s old apartment—their former home, their wedding house.

He hadn’t stepped foot here in a long time.

“Eva!” he called, pushing the door open. “What the hell are you doing? Are you still mad at me? I already told you I’d take care of everything!”

He stepped inside—and froze.

The place was empty. Quiet. Dust floated in the sunlight like ash.

No sign of life.

His chest tightened.

Maybe she went to the courthouse early?

He dialed the lawyer.

“Everything’s ready, right?” Nathan asked, his tone brisk. “Just make sure the judge grants a reduced sentence.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

Then the lawyer spoke, voice low and hesitant.

“…Mr. Blake. You haven’t heard?”

Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Heard what?”

Another beat of silence.

“Mr. Shaw… is gone. He took his own life early this morning.”