My Wife’s Deception Cost Our Son His Life

Without a second glance, she left with Peter, unconcerned that Levi’s ashes remained unburied.

I bore the silent mockery of those around me, their whispers a dull hum against the weight in my hands. Alone, I cradled Levi’s urn.

“It’s okay, baby. Even if your mother doesn’t love you, you still have your father.”

But before I could lay him to rest, Gabriel rammed into me, sending me sprawling. The urn slipped from my grip, shattering against the cold earth. Levi’s ashes were scattered, swept away by the wind.

"Uncle, are you blind? How could you run into me?" Gabriel scoffed, dusting off his pristine outfit. "Do you even know how much this limited-edition suit costs? My mom bought it for me. If that short-lived ghost’s ashes got on me, could you even afford to compensate me? What bad luck."

He showed no remorse. Instead, he smirked and pulled out a plastic water bottle filled with cigarette butts, shaking it playfully.

"Uncle, don’t say I don’t pity you. Here, use this to hold your son’s ashes."

I had no energy to argue. I just wanted a new urn; I had to protect what remained of Levi.

But before I could speak, my mother-in-law shot me a look of utter disdain and scoffed.

"What are you staring at? If you weren’t so useless, would the urn have broken? I think the plastic bottle is just fine. Don’t even think about making me waste money on an ungrateful brat. Just hurry up and bury him already. I still have to play cards."

Gabriel kicked me aside like discarded trash. Without hesitation, he ordered someone to scoop up Levi’s ashes into the filthy plastic bottle. Then, without a shred of reverence, he tossed it into the grave and sealed it shut.

My fists clenched so tightly they ached. Rage burned through me. How could they do this to Levi?

I turned, searching for Tiffany, desperate to make her see reason, only to freeze at the sight before me.

In the very hall meant to mourn, Levi, Tiffany and Peter were tangled together, their clothes askew, hands roaming as if oblivious to the world around them.

"Tiffany," Peter murmured, his voice thick with desire, "Gabriel is grown now. He must feel lonely. I want you to give me another child."

Tiffany hesitated, her lips parting slightly. "Peter, all these years, you had to hide Levi, raising him in secret to keep your wife from finding out. I’ve already made you and your son suffer enough. How can I bring you more trouble? Besides, this is Levi’s mourning hall. We can’t…"

Peter reached for her, his touch slow, deliberate, his voice a whisper of temptation.

"Tiffany, for you, I’d endure any hardship. She’s barely home. She won’t find out."

Her breath hitched. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face before Peter leaned in, his words dripping with allure.

"I’ve never done it in a mourning hall before. Don’t you want to try? You’ve been exhausted these past few days… Let me take care of you."

A muscle in Tiffany’s temple twitched. She wavered, then gave in. Lowering her head, she kissed him.

The scene before me grew more unbearable by the second. My hands trembled as I recorded every sordid detail, then turned and bolted, my legs giving out the moment I reached Levi’s tombstone.

I collapsed, my body wracked with shivers. My vision blurred with unshed tears as I stared at the gravestone, my heart twisting in agony.

Tiffany… Levi’s picture was right above you! How could you?!

The crowd had long since scattered, their whispers fading into nothingness. No one cared about me. No one cared about Levi.

I burned paper money in silence, watching the flames curl around the fragile bills. My tears fell freely, soaking into the cold earth beneath me. More than a decade of marriage was reduced to nothing but a cruel joke.

A sudden force sent the brazier flying, embers scattering across my hand. Pain seared through my skin, snapping me back to reality.

I lifted my head and there he was, Peter, grinning like a man who had just won everything.

"Joseph, did you enjoy the show?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Watching Tiffany and me have our fun right in front of your son's grave… Must’ve been quite the sight, huh?"

The smirk on his face deepened. "Burn all the paper money you want. That short-lived brat of yours isn’t coming back."

My fingers curled into fists, but Peter leaned in, voice dropping into something venomous.

"If you had just stayed infertile, I wouldn’t have even bothered with you. But you actually dared to have a child with Tiffany? Let me make one thing clear: no one is taking even a single cent from my son."

"The Timmerman Family’s wealth belongs to us. Tiffany loves me the most. To prove it, she was even willing to get rid of your son just to put my mind at ease. And you? A man reduced to this… What a disgrace. If I were you, I’d bash my head in and end it all."

Something inside me snapped. I lunged to my feet, my hand swinging up, ready to strike.

But before I could even react, Peter suddenly tumbled backward, his body crashing down the stone steps.

In the next second, a powerful hand shoved me aside and caught him.