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Chapter 3 - The Stolen Safe

My mother looked up from the safe, holding a velvet box that contained Emily's wedding band.

She did not look guilty, nor did she attempt to drop the stolen items.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my voice shaking with a dangerous kind of rage.

Brittany rolled her eyes and zipped up her side of the duffel bag.

“You left abruptly, so we figured you were finally kicking that dramatic woman to the curb,” Brittany sneered.

“We are just securing the family assets before she tries to claim them in the divorce.”

I lunged forward and snatched the duffel bag out of my sister's hands.

“You are stealing from me while my wife is in the hospital fighting for our baby's life!” I roared.

Teresa crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance.

“I raised you, Ethan, which means everything you own technically belongs to this family.”

I stared at the woman who had brought me into this world, feeling absolutely nothing but disgust.

“Where is the tea?” I asked coldly.

Kayla shifted nervously on her feet, glancing toward the kitchen.

“Where is the tea you have been forcing Emily to drink every night?” I screamed, making them all flinch.

Teresa scoffed, walking past me toward the hallway.

“I threw those cheap herbs in the garbage disposal an hour ago,” she admitted proudly.

“I read online that it makes weak women go into labor early, and I was tired of waiting for my grandson.”

She had intentionally poisoned my pregnant wife just to speed up her own timeline.

“Get out of my house,” I ordered, pointing toward the front door.

Teresa stopped walking and turned around with a sinister, triumphant smile on her face.

“I think you mean my house, Ethan.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a freshly printed legal document.

“While you were working all those long hours to pay the bills, I had a lovely chat with the landlord.”

May you like

She shoved the paper into my chest, forcing me to look at the bold print.

“I transferred the lease into my name using your forged signature, which means you are legally trespassing in my home.”

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