Her Assistant Humiliated Me,So I Revealed I'm a Billionaire Heir

I walked in and gently wiped my mother's face, making sure she looked dignified for her final journey.

But when I stepped back out, I saw something in the soup tureen on the dining table. A turtle. A medium-sized turtle.

It was the birthday gift my mother had given me when I was a child. I'd raised it ever since.

I lost it. I charged over like a man possessed and got in Edward's face.

"What the hell did you put in that soup?"

Edward just smiled, all wide-eyed innocence. "Oh! It's a soft-shell turtle!"

"Marcia said she wanted soup, and I saw one in the tank on the balcony, so I just grabbed it and stewed it..."

Rage flooded my veins and drowned out every rational thought I had.

My fist connected with Edward's face. Then I kicked the dining table over.

Marcia screamed. Without a second thought, she hurled the bowl of hot soup at my back.

The scalding broth seared through my shirt and into my skin. My brow knotted tight, but I didn't make a sound.

"You psycho! You're an absolute lunatic!" she shrieked. "You just lash out and hit people whenever you feel like it!"

"Are you blind, Marcia? Does that look like a damn soft-shell turtle to you?" I roared. "That was my pet. My companion. The only friend I had through fifteen years of loneliness."

Marcia froze. It clearly hadn't occurred to her that Edward had actually stewed my turtle.

"Is he really that stupid? He can't tell the difference between a turtle and a soft-shell?"

Her tone softened. "Alright, alright. It's just a turtle. Go buy another one."

A bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat. Just a turtle. It wasn't just a turtle. It was the last living thing my mother had given me. The last piece of her I had left.

She'd already ripped my heart out by betraying me. And now she stood there defending the man who'd killed my pet.

"Get out," I said. "Both of you. Get out of my house."

"I'll have a lawyer draw up the divorce papers."

Marcia hadn't planned on leaving, but the hatred burning in my eyes must have convinced her I'd kill Edward if they stayed. She grabbed him and hurried out.

At the door, she turned back. "My father's birthday is the day after tomorrow. You will be at the Harding estate on time. Dress properly. Don't embarrass me."

She paused. "And as for the divorce, that's not happening."

After they left, I grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed every corner of the apartment, desperate to erase any trace of them.

David Harding had never thought much of me. At every birthday banquet, he went out of his way to make that clear. No greeting. A seat shoved in the farthest corner. Barbed remarks disguised as small talk.

It didn't matter that I'd poured everything I had into Harding Corp. I never earned so much as a nod of approval from that man.

To him, I was a nobody. A commoner who had no business setting foot in the Harding household. He'd even declared that any children Marcia and I had would carry the Harding name, not mine.

Two days later, I brought my mother's ashes home from the crematorium.

I'd just changed into mourning clothes, preparing to keep vigil, when a group of men barged in and seized me. They didn't give me a chance to struggle. They pinned my arms and dragged me out the door.

I didn't realize where they were taking me until we arrived.

The Harding estate. The birthday banquet.

And I was wearing mourning white from head to toe.

Anyone with half a brain would think I'd done it on purpose. Showing up to a birthday celebration dressed for a funeral was as good as cursing the old man to die.

Sure enough, every head in the room turned. I became the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.

Marcia and David Harding spotted me at the same time. Their faces darkened like storm clouds rolling in.

Marcia stormed over and slapped me across the face. "Are you determined to humiliate this family? Is that it?"

Harding relatives hurled their glasses at me, shouting for me to get out.

David Harding's voice cut through the noise. "I'm not even dead yet and you're already trying to jinx me?"

He slammed his palm on the table. "Someone break his legs."

"And rip that cursed rag off him."

Marcia didn't spare me another glance. She turned her back and let the security guards close in, their fists and boots finding me again and again.