The Real Heir Chose Death,Now They're All Drowning in Regret

What?

Mom's hands rested on Roy's shoulders.

The worry on her face curdled into a sigh of disgust.

"That's exactly the kind of thing he'd do."

I froze in midair.

I turned to look at the others.

Dad's expression went cold. "I knew he had some issues with Roy, but this is beyond the pale. I thought he was just being difficult. I never imagined he was capable of something this inhuman!"

I shook my head.

No, Dad. Mom. That's not what happened...

Theresa said nothing.

She simply steadied Roy's trembling body.

"Let Roy rest first."

I drifted to the doorway of Roy's room.

From inside came the muffled sound of a phone call.

"What kind of hitman did you hire? He just walked in and started stabbing without even checking who it was?"

"This was supposed to be an act! He was supposed to puncture the blood packs I was wearing so it'd look like that bastard hired someone to kill me. Now the guy's actually dead!"

"How am I supposed to clean this up?"

I went still.

What?

Roy hired the killer?

Blood packs? What blood packs?

In my last life... Roy wasn't actually stabbed?

I watched Roy pace back and forth across the room, clawing at his hair in agitation.

"Everything was going perfectly! I'd play dead, and you'd leak word that the bastard hired someone to have me killed. They'd be eaten alive with guilt, and they'd hate him for it. Then I'd find the right moment to come back, and I'd be the Vance family's one and only son."

"But that useless piece of trash didn't even look before he killed someone, and Lambert wasn't wearing blood packs! He's actually dead! How am I supposed to fix this?"

Tears fell from my eyes before I realized it.

So that's why.

That's why, in my last life, Mom, Dad, Theresa, even my fiancée... they all hated me so much.

They thought I was the one who killed Roy.

Roy never died at all.

"Fine. Before anyone notices, get your people here now. The body and the chest, get rid of all of it. I'll figure out the rest."

Roy's car was parked by the river.

His men hauled the chest out of the trunk.

"Packed it full of rocks? You're sure it won't float?"

"Yes, sir."

The heat was brutal.

The chest already smelled.

Roy covered his nose and jerked his chin toward the water.

The men had just lifted the chest when a familiar voice called out.

"Roy!"

He whipped around.

His men flinched. The chest slipped from their grip and hit the ground with a sharp crack. The lock popped, and the lid cracked open just a sliver.

"What are you doing out here? You disappeared without a word."

Theresa walked toward them.

The smell seeped out of the chest.

She was a medical prodigy. A surgeon of the highest caliber.

She knew that smell better than anyone.

"What's inside?"

She frowned sharply.

Decomposition. She could identify it in an instant.

"Inside..."

Cold sweat rolled down Roy's forehead.

I stared at Theresa, heart pounding.

Theresa. Please. Open it.

I know we didn't grow up together.

But I'm your brother. Your real brother.

Don't let me sink to the bottom of the river.

Don't let me disappear without a trace.

Please, Theresa...

"Theresa!"

She was already striding forward. Roy scrambled to stop her, but it was too late.

Her hand seized the lid and wrenched it upward.

"Ahhh!"

Roy staggered back and collapsed to the ground.

"Roy?" Theresa turned.

"Sis... inside... I think there's a body!"

I stared at him, hollow.