The Fake Heiress Stole My Fiancé - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
You are reading The Fake Heiress Stole My Fiancé, Chapter 15: Chapter 15. Read more chapters of The Fake Heiress Stole My Fiancé.
Lucian checked himself into a psychiatric facility.
Consumed by guilt over what he'd done to Raina, he'd arranged for someone to beat him daily—as if physical pain could somehow atone for her suffering.
When I saw him after a week's absence, the change was shocking. The man looked decades older, his hair now completely silver. He kept muttering Raina's name like a broken record, desperate for any trace of her.
Pathetic. Did he really think his self-inflicted punishment could compare to what Raina endured?
To her adoptive parents, she'd been disposable. Her biological parents forced her into the "elder sister" role for Elaine—despite being younger. That special training school? More like torture camp—starved, beaten, broken. She'd watched her only true friend die, been betrayed by the man she loved, and faced the crushing truth that her own parents never cared.
Lucian's little guilt trip didn't even scratch the surface.
Back at the Simpson estate, I found my parents and Elaine waiting like nervous schoolchildren. "What's this?" I smirked. "Not afraid I'll murder you in your sleep?"
They'd been avoiding me since Juliet revealed I'd killed my adoptive parents in self-defense.
Dad practically groveled. "Of course not! You're our real daughter—why would we be scared?"
Mom wrung her hands. "Raina...now that Lucian's hospitalized...could Elaine maybe come home?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Why would I allow that? She's no blood relation." Leaning in, I dropped my voice to a lethal whisper. "I run Ferguson Group now. She stays banished—unless she's in a coffin."
Elaine's face twisted with rage, but she bit her tongue.
"One more thing," I added cheerfully. "If I catch her sneaking back? You'll both join her in the afterlife."
Elaine finally exploded—not at me, but at our parents. "This is YOUR fault! Now I'm rotting in that backwater village forever!"
"Elaine, wait!"
They went scrambling after her like obedient puppies.
That evening, police called with news. During another screaming match about her "wasted potential," Elaine had grabbed a kitchen knife. Mom went down first. Dad might've followed if Elaine hadn't tripped chasing him—driving the blade straight through her own aorta.
At the hospital, Dad lay bandaged but smug. "See? Blood matters. Outsiders are always ungrateful."
I smiled, setting down his empty water glass. "Sleep tight, Dad."
Consumed by guilt over what he'd done to Raina, he'd arranged for someone to beat him daily—as if physical pain could somehow atone for her suffering.
When I saw him after a week's absence, the change was shocking. The man looked decades older, his hair now completely silver. He kept muttering Raina's name like a broken record, desperate for any trace of her.
Pathetic. Did he really think his self-inflicted punishment could compare to what Raina endured?
To her adoptive parents, she'd been disposable. Her biological parents forced her into the "elder sister" role for Elaine—despite being younger. That special training school? More like torture camp—starved, beaten, broken. She'd watched her only true friend die, been betrayed by the man she loved, and faced the crushing truth that her own parents never cared.
Lucian's little guilt trip didn't even scratch the surface.
Back at the Simpson estate, I found my parents and Elaine waiting like nervous schoolchildren. "What's this?" I smirked. "Not afraid I'll murder you in your sleep?"
They'd been avoiding me since Juliet revealed I'd killed my adoptive parents in self-defense.
Dad practically groveled. "Of course not! You're our real daughter—why would we be scared?"
Mom wrung her hands. "Raina...now that Lucian's hospitalized...could Elaine maybe come home?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Why would I allow that? She's no blood relation." Leaning in, I dropped my voice to a lethal whisper. "I run Ferguson Group now. She stays banished—unless she's in a coffin."
Elaine's face twisted with rage, but she bit her tongue.
"One more thing," I added cheerfully. "If I catch her sneaking back? You'll both join her in the afterlife."
Elaine finally exploded—not at me, but at our parents. "This is YOUR fault! Now I'm rotting in that backwater village forever!"
"Elaine, wait!"
They went scrambling after her like obedient puppies.
That evening, police called with news. During another screaming match about her "wasted potential," Elaine had grabbed a kitchen knife. Mom went down first. Dad might've followed if Elaine hadn't tripped chasing him—driving the blade straight through her own aorta.
At the hospital, Dad lay bandaged but smug. "See? Blood matters. Outsiders are always ungrateful."
I smiled, setting down his empty water glass. "Sleep tight, Dad."
End of The Fake Heiress Stole My Fiancé Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to The Fake Heiress Stole My Fiancé book page.