She Gave My Father's Life Savings to a Con Man

Naomi's voice turned shrill.

"Grant, I really underestimated you."

"Using my parents for money wasn't enough—now you're trying to sell the company behind my back?"

"Thank God Robert had the foresight to see this coming. He figured you'd pull something desperate, so I transferred the company to him for safekeeping."

"I trust him to hold it for me."

"At least that's better than leaving it in the hands of someone who only wants to drain my family dry!"

Robert stood right beside her, eyes brimming with satisfaction.

Then he let out a heavy, theatrical sigh.

"Mr. Gilbert, I don't mean to lecture you."

"You and Naomi are husband and wife, after all. If you're in trouble, you could've just talked it out."

"But to engineer all of this—just so Naomi would walk away with nothing, none the wiser?"

"That level of scheming... it's honestly chilling."

Honestly? My tolerance for stupidity hit its limit.

Looking at the woman in front of me, so smugly convinced of her own brilliance, I felt genuine disgust for the first time.

"Scheming? Using people?"

I repeated those words, my voice dropping low.

Then I stood abruptly, seized Naomi's wrist, and started pulling her toward the door.

"What are you doing?!"

"Let go of me!!"

Naomi screamed and thrashed against my grip.

I shot back, "You don't believe me, right?"

"Then let's go to the hospital. Right now. Go see the ICU with your own eyes!"

"See whether your father is faking it!"

"See whether the five million you handed over—and your precious company—are worth more than your own father's life!"

Robert rushed forward, shoving hard against my shoulder.

I blocked him with a backhand and spoke through gritted teeth, one word at a time.

"This is between me and my wife. Back off."

Security burst through the door. It took everything they had to pry us apart.

Robert was shielded by the guards. All he got was a small split on the corner of his lip.

Me—he'd stuck his foot out deliberately. I tripped, and the small of my back slammed into the sharp edge of the desk.

The pain whited out my vision. I couldn't even stand.

Then Naomi grabbed the ashtray off the desk and hurled it at me.

It struck my head. Blood poured down instantly.

But Naomi threw herself at Robert's side, her face crumpled with worry.

"Robert, does it hurt? Are you injured anywhere else?"

Her voice was frantic and tender all at once.

Nothing like the half-hearted check-ins I remembered from every time I'd been sick.

Robert shook his head. "I'm fine. It's just... Mr. Gilbert, he—"

He glanced at me, then trailed off, as if the words were too painful to say.

Only then did Naomi look my way. Whatever softness had been in her eyes vanished, replaced instantly by fury.

"Grant, are you done losing your mind?!"

"Attacking someone in front of everyone—look at yourself! What have you become?"

"You're no different from some thug off the street!"

"This is assault. Apologize to Robert. Now!"

Blood from my forehead traced a line down my brow and pooled against my eyelid. I wiped it away with the back of my hand, and my vision cleared.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth. A bitter, self-mocking smile.

In over thirty years of living, had anything ever been more absurd than this?

"Apologize? To who? To him?"

I looked at Robert and caught the smirk he wasn't even trying to hide.

"Yes! Right now! This instant!"

Naomi wouldn't let it go, as if demanding my apology was the most natural thing in the world.

I stopped acknowledging her. I bent down and gathered the scattered documents from the floor.

"Mr. Wang, I'll need you to handle the rest."

Then I limped toward the door.

"We're not done here—you think you can just walk away?!"

"Grant, don't you dare take another step!"

Naomi tried to block my path.

I didn't stop. Didn't look back.

Clear things up?

What else was there to say?

My father-in-law was still in the ICU, waiting on money that could save his life.

The company route was dead. I had to find another way.

I took a deep breath and shoved every emotion down.

I called a few old friends—people I'd been tight with for years, people who owed me favors.

Over the phone, I didn't go into detail.

Scraping together what I could from every direction, I managed to borrow just over a million dollars.

The plan was to get the surgery done first. The imported specialty drugs and follow-up costs could be figured out later.

I grabbed the money and headed straight for the hospital.

My phone rang on the way.

It was Margaret. I picked up immediately.

"Mom, I've pulled together some money. I'm on my way right now."

"He's gone..."

Margaret's voice was calm—unnervingly calm.

"Your father... he's gone."

"What? Mom, what do you mean? What happened to Dad?"

"This morning the doctors said his condition had stabilized—"

Margaret's composure finally shattered. Her sobs were raw, drenched in despair.

"He pulled out his own tubes... the monitors went off..."

"By the time they found him... it was already... already..."

My mind went blank. I never imagined my father-in-law would take his own life.

The next few days were consumed with funeral arrangements.

At one point I asked Margaret if she wanted to let Naomi know—have her come back.

She shook her head. Her expression was ice.

"As far as I'm concerned, I never had a daughter. I don't want anything to do with her ever again."