Remembering the anger in Michael’s eyes when I mentioned divorce, my heart tightened in pain.
Uncle Peter nodded. “Yes, Miss Barkworth. I’ll take care of it right now.”
Soon after the call, I saw Michael rushing past my hospital room door. Thirty minutes later, Uncle Peter sent me a photo of the contract signed by Michael.
I suddenly noticed Uncle Peter had added a note to the contract: Michael would leave with nothing.
Before I could ask, he called and explained the situation to me, “Since Michael joined the company, he’s been endlessly spoiling Olivia. I had someone to investigate them privately. They have been secretly together for a long time.”
“So, I drafted this document myself. I hope you won’t blame me, Miss. I just couldn’t stand seeing Mr. Barkworth’s legacy destroyed by such a beast.”
The tears filled my eyes. “Uncle Peter, you did the right thing.”
After the call, I got up and went to the restroom. As I entered with my crutch, someone suddenly shoved me from behind.
I fell hard to the floor, my leg aching in sharp pain.
Olivia’s crazed, mocking voice rang behind me, “Look at you now, so pathetic. The proud Barkworth daughter has become nothing more than my footstool.”
Lying on the floor, I quickly turned on my phone’s voice recorder.
My leg ached as I weakly asked, “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t remember ever have a problem with you.”
Olivia glared at me with disgust. “Hmph! I’m Michael’s real wife, but you, the shameless mistress, got in the way. Without you, I’d have been Mrs. Cordero long ago.”
“You really think Michael loves you? Ha! Don’t get any ideas. Without your money, he wouldn’t even look at you.”
“So, you and Michael have a plan to steal my father’s company?” I asked through gritted teeth.
Olivia’s eyes burned with hatred. “You could’ve avoided this pain. It’s your fault for not dying in that kidnapping.”
“Aren’t you afraid of the law?” I shot back.
“Law? Come on. Michael and I were promised to each other as kids, so we’ve been inseparable since childhood and never betray each other.”
“Just arrange a little ‘accident’ for you. Who would ever suspect a ‘loving husband’ such as Michael Cordero is a murderer?”
Olivia’s eyes were full of disdain. When her phone rang, she gave me a disgusted look and answered the speaker.
“Honey, are you finished yet? I’m craving those dumplings on East Street. Pick me up later, okay?”
Michael’s deep voice replied, “Of course, whatever my dear wife wants.”
After the call, Olivia smirked. “Hmph. Only women who aren’t loved end up as mistresses.”
With that, she turned and walked away in her high heels.
I froze when Michael said “wife.” In our two years of marriage, he’d never called me that.
I held my breath. The phone’s ring sounded like a death knell in the silent room.
When I answered that call, an angry voice said, “What’s going on with your Barkworth Family? Mr. Barkworth has been dead in our hospital for almost six months and no one has come to claim him?”
