"No 'almost' about it. He's dead. I saw it with my own eyes."
"Bullshit!" Athena shrieked. "Don't you dare curse my son! He's perfectly fine!"
"Then let's make a bet." My voice was steady, almost bored. "If your son is alive, I'll hand over every cent I own. But if he's dead? I don't want much—just stay out of my way when it comes to his estate."
Athena's face contorted with rage. She jabbed a finger inches from my nose.
"You want him dead, don't you, you little whore? Fine! Let's bet! But I want it in writing—every last asset under your name, itemized, so you can't weasel out of it later!"
Under the watchful eyes of a notary, my assets were laid bare, line by line.
Two cars worth $800,000. A luxury penthouse valued at $1.8 million. The electronics plant, appraised at $4 million. Cash deposits totaling $430,000. Even the gold jewelry I was wearing—$210,000.
I hadn't realized I was worth this much.
No wonder they were so eager to kill me.
"Hmph." Athena's lip curled. "You drove my son into depression, and I haven't even demanded compensation for his emotional suffering. Honestly? You were never good enough for him. With his looks and credentials, he could have married a governor's daughter—someone with assets in the hundreds of millions."
She looked me up and down like I was something stuck to her shoe.
"But if you promise to serve me and my son devotedly from now on, I might consider letting you stay as a mistress."
I laughed—a cold, mirthless sound.
"Maybe check on your precious son first."
Athena's heel struck the floor. She yanked out her phone.
"I'm calling him right now! He'll come here and shut you up himself!"
The line rang.
And rang.
No answer.
Instead, more patrol cars rolled up, lights flashing.
An officer approached. "We found individuals impersonating medical personnel nearby. They were operating an unregistered ambulance." He paused. "There was a male body inside."
A gurney emerged from one of the vehicles, a white sheet draped over its still form.
