Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a message.
It was from Ryan Lee.
The video opened to a dark room where a man’s moans could be heard.
“Sis, slow down… what, your husband doesn’t satisfy you at home? Take it easy, don’t forget—this is the ‘courtroom.’”
The camera shook, but it was still clear that the woman in the frame was Olivia Carter.
She wore a business suit, while Ryan, seen from the side, was dressed in a ridiculous “servant costume,” playing the defendant.
She laughed lightly, tugging on his collar.
“You little demon, someone accused you of committing a crime in the control room. Do you plead guilty?”
Olivia’s tone was exaggerated, dripping with mockery.
Ryan immediately begged.
“Your Honor, I was wrong! Punish me however you want, I’ll never dare again…”
The shameless video almost made me vomit.
Then Ryan added smugly:
“Mr. Carter, about your brother dying in the industrial mixer—Olivia already punished me for it.”
I couldn’t stomach another second. I blocked him on the spot.
Then I called Mrs. Johnson.
“Your son is dead. What about the funeral?”
She was gambling at the poker table when she answered, and instantly erupted.
“Michael Carter, you bastard, who are you cursing? You’re the one who’s dead! Your whole family is dead!”
“I’m busy—if you call again to harass me, I’ll make sure you regret it!”
The line cut off with a series of harsh beeps.
Looking at Daniel Carter’s photo, my eyes softened with pity.
Now I finally understood why Daniel had hidden the fact that he worked at his sister’s factory, begging me not to tell anyone.
With a mother addicted to gambling, and a family like this, his life had been nothing but a lonely battle.
Just then, my lawyer sent over the divorce agreement. I called Olivia.
“Come home when you have time. First, attend the funeral. Second, sign the divorce agreement.”
For the past two years, Olivia had been punishing me for refusing to have children, constantly running around with other men. Ryan was only the latest in a long line.
At first, I thought she was just acting out of spite, only pretending. But after Ryan repeatedly taunted me, sending endless indecent photos and videos, I knew there was no doubt left.
This marriage was already dead.
“The funeral? I don’t have time. And so what—it’s only your brother. Your parents are still alive. If you divorce me now, won’t that kill them from shame?”
I fell silent. She knew my parents well—too well. She thought she could control me because they hated the idea of divorce, because they’d prefer me to endure.
But she forgot—my life is mine alone.
“Olivia, you’d better make sure you understand whose brother really died.”
Standing at the entrance of the crematorium, watching the furnaces lined up for use, my voice was ice.
“If you have time, you’d better come this afternoon. At four o’clock, he’ll be cremated.”
She only sneered.
“I’m too busy making money. Who has time for such nonsense? Cremate him if you want. A funeral? Handle it yourself. He was short-lived anyway—just toss something together.”
The call ended abruptly.
So be it.
If she said there was no need for anything elaborate, then so it would be.
In life, even though his sister was worth millions, Daniel never even had a place of his own. He’d still been renting.
I had his belongings gathered and brought to my marital home with Olivia.
