Chapter 117
Chapter 5
Ethan stood rigidly in place. His gaze shifted between the urn and my face, as if digesting this information. “He’s… gone?” His voice was hoarse. “That’s not possible. He was stable three days ago p>
“Yes, he was fine three days ago,” I said calmly. “If that transfer had gone through when it was supposed to, he would have been out of surgery and in recovery hours ago. But the format wasn’t to Sophie’s standards. And you… you were too busy assuming I was after another handout p>
The air around us seemed to freeze. Sophie’s face turned deathly pale. She instinctively hid behind Ethan. “Ethan, I had no idea it was that serious. You know how she’s been with money… always an emergency, always a reason. I thought it was just another one of her stories p>
Ethan took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure and sense of control. “If it was this urgent, why the hell didn’t you come straight to me p>
“Do you think I would have said no if you’d just told me? Instead, you buried it in paperwork, you picked a fight with Sophie, you wasted your own time, Summer p>
Of course. There it was, the flawless Ethan Crawford logic. Even with a body between us, he couldn’t just say he was wrong. He had to make it mine to carry.
Was it my tone? My timing? My failure to beg correctly? The exhaustion hit me like a weight. Arguing was pointless. “You’re right,” I said flatly. “It was my fault. All of it. So I’m getting out of your way. Now give me my
suitcase p>
But Ethan stepped on the clothes on the ground. That yellowing white T-shirt. “Leave? You’re not going anywhere.” His voice turned low, threatening. “Do not use your father’s ashes as some kind of bargaining chip with me. Now, come back inside.” His hand shot out to seize my arm.
I sidestepped, turned, and instead dragged him straight toward the second floor.
“What are you doing? Let go!” Ethan roared. I ignored him, hauling him all the way into the walk-in closet. Sophie followed nervously behind. “Summer, just… calm down p>
I pointed at the massive safe and said to Sophie, “Open it.” Sophie didn’t dare move, I grabbed a nearby golf club. “I said open it!” A loud crash as it hit the safe door.
Ethan was stunned. He’d never seen me like this, gone mad. “Summer, have you lost your mind p>
“Open or not?” I glared at Sophie. Trembling with fear, Sophie quickly pressed her fingerprint. Beep. The door opened. A dazzling array of jewelry, Hermès bags, limited-edition watches, packed to the brim.
Ethan sneered, “See? Haven’t I been good to you? Every single item in here is worth millions p>
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“Good to me?” I laughed. I threw the golf club down and pulled a thick stack of documents from my pocket,
hurling them into Ethan’s face. Papers fluttered down like snow.
“Open your eyes, Ethan! Look at this, every single ‘favor’ from the last three years, logged and approved by
your secretary p>
I thrust the records toward him. “May 2021: a Hermès bag for the Gala, checked out and back in 24 hours. August 2022: a Cartier necklace for the Crawford family dinner. Returned with a ‘scratch’, Sophie docked five hundred dollars from my account for ‘negligence p>
“January this year: I requested a haircut. Sophie denied it. Her note read: ‘Length is manageable. DIY is more
cost-effective p>
Ethan picked up one of the slips. His hand began to tremble slightly. He stared at the handwriting in disbelief. It was Sophie’s writing. Every stroke seemed to mock his so-called “devotion p>
I pointed to the empty little corner beside us.”This closet? It’s empty. Everything I own, I brought with me before we married. You told me not to worry about money, to focus on being your wife p>
“And yet, for three years, I’ve had to beg for permission to cut my hair. You promised me a life of comfort, Ethan. But the truth is, even your pet is treated with more respect than I am p>
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Chapter 5
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