The End of Your Family

Too bad. I dodged swiftly.

"What the hell do you want, you crazy woman?!" Zarrick yelled?

I pointed at Kelly, my voice sharp with frustration. "Isn't it obvious? Beat up a cheating bastard and his mistress. What else?"

I hadn't planned on getting physical, but the comment section was relentless, flooding the chat with suggestions. If throwing punches would bring me more satisfaction, then why hold back?

So, when Zarrick lunged at me again, trying to snatch my phone, I hurled it straight at his head. Then, without hesitation, I grabbed Kelly's hair and let loose.

I went through the full checklist of a classic catfight—yanking her hair, slapping her face, kicking her in the stomach. By the time Zarrick managed to pull me off her, she was a complete mess.

Her birthday banquet lay in ruins. Whatever dignity she had left had been stomped into the ground. She sobbed even louder, her face streaked with tears.

"Zarrick and I are just former classmates," she whimpered. "He was only sponsoring today's party. You know how things work in the influencer world. We need engagement, and Zarrick just wanted to promote your company. There's nothing going on between us. Only dirty-minded people see filth everywhere."

I rolled up my sleeves, ready to go another round. Even now, she had the audacity to play the innocent, fragile damsel. If she wanted to act weak, that was her problem.

Then my phone rang.

"Hello, this is the hospital. The patients are in critical condition. If the payment isn't made immediately, we may not be able to continue treatment."

I put the call on speaker. Zarrick heard every word.

"Did you hear that? The hospital needs money. Now."

Disgusted, he flung my phone back at me. He hated me more than anything at this moment. As if he'd ever give me a cent.

"If your parents die, it's just bad luck. Not my problem."

Right then, Kelly conveniently collapsed into his arms. Panicked, he scooped her up, ready to rush her to the hospital.

As she nestled against him, she turned her head to look at me. A slow, knowing smile crept across her lips. Then she mouthed the words: You've lost.

I smiled back, just as sweetly, and mouthed the words: We'll see.

Since Kelly pretended to faint, why shouldn't I do the same? Let's see how things played out when we both woke up.

…

At the same hospital, when I came to, a doctor stood by my bedside, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry. The resuscitation failed. There was no signed authorization from the family. They've passed away. My condolences."

The words sank in like lead. My chest tightened, and I let out a raw, guttural sob.

I called Zarrick. He rejected the call twice. Then he blocked me altogether.

The doctors and nurses watched me with pity, their eyes filled with silent sympathy.

I forced myself to pull it together. I picked up my phone again.

"I'd like to report a hit-and-run."

The police worked fast. By the next day, they had identified the driver: Chad Isle, Kelly's brother.

In my previous life, I had been too consumed with taking care of Zarrick's parents and scrambling to pay off debts. It wasn't until right before my death that I finally learned the truth—that Chad was also the man Zarrick later found to rape me.

If I remembered correctly, after the accident, my in-laws had graciously chosen not to press charges.

Zarrick had even signed the waiver of prosecution.

"We're fine, aren't we? Why ruin a young man's future over this? You always take things too seriously. Just because he's Kelly's brother doesn't mean you have to be spiteful," my in-laws had said.

Too bad.

This time, they were dead.

Let's see if they'd still be so magnanimous now.