Two Chances, One Bullet: How His "Next Life" Promise Failed - Chapter 85: Chapter 85
You are reading Two Chances, One Bullet: How His "Next Life" Promise Failed, Chapter 85: Chapter 85. Read more chapters of Two Chances, One Bullet: How His "Next Life" Promise Failed.
Asher's heart skipped a beat.
An elderly voice responded: "Nora, you haven't contacted us for years. Mom just wanted to see you... is that too much to ask?"
"So it's my fault?" Nora laughed scornfully: "Being born into your poverty-stricken family was miserable enough. You couldn't give me anything—what right do you have to demand filial piety? Are you worthy?"
A male voice spoke up: "Nora, you can't talk like that!"
"Our family wasn't well-off, but your mom and I gave you the best we could. Village girls usually quit after elementary school, but we insisted you finish middle school and get into the county high school. We borrowed money to pay your tuition! You were the one who didn't want to study and insisted on going to the city..."
The attendant opened the door to refill water. Hiding outside, Asher's eyes widened in shock.
Nora's mother—whom she had described as jealous and abusive—was blind.
Her father—who supposedly loved money so much he wanted to sell her to an old man for a bride price—wore clothes covered in patches and shoes with holes.
Nora's face wore a contemptuous smile: "I didn't want borrowed tuition! I wanted high society and endless money! Let me tell you, I'm about to marry into wealth! I'll give you a lump sum to buy out your retirement, but please don't ever appear in front of me again!"
With that, she threw the suitcase on the table and opened it, revealing stacks of cash.
Putting on sunglasses, her voice as cold as ice: "This is enough for your retirement and to repay the high-interest loans I took out using your identities years ago. From now on, I'm an orphan without parents. Goodbye."
Asher left the club before she could exit. Back in his car, he gasped for breath like a fish out of water.
His assistant handed him a tablet, his tone somber: "Mr. Blackwell, we've completed the investigation on Miss Sinclair. You don't look well—are you sure you want to see this now?"
"Show me!"
Asher scrolled through 3GB of files, his frown deepening with each page.
After arriving in Washington at 16, Nora had worked in underground nightclubs for money. Over thirty photos showed Nora in revealing outfits, embracing and kissing various men.
There, she had caught the eye of a man in his fifties. To satisfy his "special interests," she learned violin and, through his connections, entered the orchestra to clean up her image.
Leveraging the old man's status and wealth, she bullied and harassed female musicians better than her.
In a blurry image, Asher could still make out a girl lying in a hospital bed, her fingers covered in blood.
In the end, the old man had spent over a million to cover it up.
After three years of being kept, the old man's wife confronted her. To repay the marital assets he had spent on her, Nora borrowed a huge sum using her parents' identities.
Afterward, she joined Riley's orchestra, using her first chair position to attract wealthy men.
The final images were her medical examination reports from childhood to present. Every report listed her heart condition as "normal."
Asher's hands holding the tablet began to shake violently.
Her parents were fake, her heart condition was fake... Everything about Nora Sinclair was a lie!
Yet he had believed her.
The assistant looked hesitant: "Mr. Blackwell, Miss Hawthorne disappeared after Miss Sinclair's birthday. I retrieved the security footage from that day... it's in the next file. Would you like to see it?"
Asher's voice was low with suppressed anger: "Show me."
An elderly voice responded: "Nora, you haven't contacted us for years. Mom just wanted to see you... is that too much to ask?"
"So it's my fault?" Nora laughed scornfully: "Being born into your poverty-stricken family was miserable enough. You couldn't give me anything—what right do you have to demand filial piety? Are you worthy?"
A male voice spoke up: "Nora, you can't talk like that!"
"Our family wasn't well-off, but your mom and I gave you the best we could. Village girls usually quit after elementary school, but we insisted you finish middle school and get into the county high school. We borrowed money to pay your tuition! You were the one who didn't want to study and insisted on going to the city..."
The attendant opened the door to refill water. Hiding outside, Asher's eyes widened in shock.
Nora's mother—whom she had described as jealous and abusive—was blind.
Her father—who supposedly loved money so much he wanted to sell her to an old man for a bride price—wore clothes covered in patches and shoes with holes.
Nora's face wore a contemptuous smile: "I didn't want borrowed tuition! I wanted high society and endless money! Let me tell you, I'm about to marry into wealth! I'll give you a lump sum to buy out your retirement, but please don't ever appear in front of me again!"
With that, she threw the suitcase on the table and opened it, revealing stacks of cash.
Putting on sunglasses, her voice as cold as ice: "This is enough for your retirement and to repay the high-interest loans I took out using your identities years ago. From now on, I'm an orphan without parents. Goodbye."
Asher left the club before she could exit. Back in his car, he gasped for breath like a fish out of water.
His assistant handed him a tablet, his tone somber: "Mr. Blackwell, we've completed the investigation on Miss Sinclair. You don't look well—are you sure you want to see this now?"
"Show me!"
Asher scrolled through 3GB of files, his frown deepening with each page.
After arriving in Washington at 16, Nora had worked in underground nightclubs for money. Over thirty photos showed Nora in revealing outfits, embracing and kissing various men.
There, she had caught the eye of a man in his fifties. To satisfy his "special interests," she learned violin and, through his connections, entered the orchestra to clean up her image.
Leveraging the old man's status and wealth, she bullied and harassed female musicians better than her.
In a blurry image, Asher could still make out a girl lying in a hospital bed, her fingers covered in blood.
In the end, the old man had spent over a million to cover it up.
After three years of being kept, the old man's wife confronted her. To repay the marital assets he had spent on her, Nora borrowed a huge sum using her parents' identities.
Afterward, she joined Riley's orchestra, using her first chair position to attract wealthy men.
The final images were her medical examination reports from childhood to present. Every report listed her heart condition as "normal."
Asher's hands holding the tablet began to shake violently.
Her parents were fake, her heart condition was fake... Everything about Nora Sinclair was a lie!
Yet he had believed her.
The assistant looked hesitant: "Mr. Blackwell, Miss Hawthorne disappeared after Miss Sinclair's birthday. I retrieved the security footage from that day... it's in the next file. Would you like to see it?"
Asher's voice was low with suppressed anger: "Show me."
End of Two Chances, One Bullet: How His "Next Life" Promise Failed Chapter 85. Continue reading Chapter 86 or return to Two Chances, One Bullet: How His "Next Life" Promise Failed book page.