Trust Fund Heiress's Revenge: His Betrayal Earned 30 Years - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

My father, Mr. Ward, was critically ill, lying in the ICU as his life slipped away second by second.
I urgently needed to access the family trust fund and quickly called my husband—Rhett.
He was a top wealth expert on Wall Street and the sole fund manager of our family's assets.
"Rhett, the hospital is demanding payment. I need to withdraw fifty million from the trust."
Over the phone, Rhett's voice was ice-cold.
"I can't do that, Lydia. According to the trust agreement, your father's life is not a priority expenditure item for the trust."
"That's my father!"
"Rules are rules."
Thirty minutes later, I received an anonymous email.
The attachment showed the trust fund's transaction history—two million dollars paid annually to a woman named Nina.
The email also contained a photograph.
A three-year-old boy whose features bore a striking resemblance to Rhett.
I understood immediately!
Rhett wasn't unable to make withdrawals—he wanted to use my father's life-saving money to support his illegitimate child.
The ICU alarm blared shrilly.
I watched helplessly as my father's heart monitor flatlined, tears streaming down my face.
Rhett, you used financial rules to kill my father.
I will use the same rules to destroy you.
My father's funeral was scheduled for three days later.
The funeral home's air conditioning couldn't freeze the burning rage in my bones.
The funeral director handed me the bill.
"Miss Lydia, the total is eight hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
I nodded and took out my phone to contact the trust bank.
The Ward family's billion-dollar fortune was entirely held in an offshore trust established by Rhett.
When the call connected, the bank's customer service representative's voice was mechanical.
"Sorry, Miss Lydia. According to the trust agreement, large withdrawals must be personally authorized by fund manager Rhett."
"My father is dead—this is for his funeral!"
"Lydia, we understand your feelings, but Rhett specifically emphasized the need for 'irrational spending' risk control for you."
Risk control?
My father was dead, and he was talking to me about risk control?
I hung up, my chest burning, blood surging up my throat.
On the day of the funeral.
I stood in the center of the church wearing a black dress.
My father's portrait, elegantly framed in gold, looked down at me with an expression full of sadness and regret.
Rhett was late.
He wasn't alone.
He had his arm around Nina's waist.
Nina wore a loose Chanel maternity dress, her belly protruding, her hand holding that three-year-old boy.
The child whose features bore such a striking resemblance to Rhett.
The church fell silent.
I walked toward Rhett, my voice ice-cold. "What are you doing bringing them here?"
Rhett brushed his suit and smiled contemptuously.
"Lydia, don't lose your composure. It's an honor for your father that Nina and Kimi came here to see him off."
"Rhett, you're shameless. You used my father's life-saving money to support your mistress and illegitimate child, you..."
Nina immediately covered the boy's ears and shrank into Rhett's arms in terror.
"Please, Lydia, don't frighten the child. Rhett..."
Rhett immediately patted her back soothingly and turned to me.
"Lydia, mind the occasion. Don't act like a shrew."
I struggled to suppress my fury, pointing at the funeral home staff.
"The funeral expenses require your authorization."
Rhett sneered, "I refuse."
"What did you say?"
"The core principle of trust funds is asset appreciation. Dead people are depreciating assets—no matter how much you invest, the return rate is zero."
He looked down tenderly, stroking Nina's pregnant belly.
"And I need to be responsible for the next generation. This is quality investment."
All the blood in my body rushed to my head.
"Rhett, you bastard!" I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught it firmly in mid-air.
"Lydia, do you want to be locked up?" Rhett flung my hand away roughly.
Nina leaned gently against Rhett's shoulder. "Rhett, don't say that. Lydia will be hurt. She just doesn't understand finance."
Rhett snorted coldly: "Not understanding comes with a price. The financial world has no need for tears."
The funeral ended in chaos.
I held my father's cold urn.
Rhett waited for me at the exit, handing me a document.
Voluntary Renunciation of Inheritance Rights Declaration.
"Sign it."
I looked at him.
"Rhett, do you really have to be this cruel?"
Suddenly, Nina raised her hand to cover her mouth, and a massive pigeon blood red diamond ring flashed before my eyes.
"Oh my, the light is so bright..."
"Lydia, this is the ring Rhett bought me with the trust fund's quarterly dividends."
"Mr. Ward's death shocked me, so Rhett said he needed to compensate me for my emotional distress."
My father's death had become her reason for receiving a diamond ring?
Rhett slammed the document directly onto my father's coffin lid.
"Lydia, your emotions are too unstable. You lack the capability to manage assets."
"Sign it, or I'll let your father's body end up on the streets with you."
I braced my hands against the coffin, my nails digging into the wood.
Rhett used the most professional terminology to do the most sordid, despicable things.
Law and morality had no effect on him.
To kill this wolf of the financial world, I could only use his own rules.