I never told my sister I owned half the land in this town. When I returned from the army, my daughter was forced to sleep in the pigsty, humiliated, and told, "You're a useless burden." In front of me, she even sneered, "A poor, washed-up soldier has no right to speak up." I silently signed the legal papers, reclaiming the entire house she was living in. A week later, I took my daughter and left, leaving her standing there crying in front of a house that was no longer hers.

The video feed cut to black, leaving only my own angry reflection staring back at me.

Sarah had treated my daughter like an animal, but she was still my blood.

I could not let her burn alive in the house our ancestors built.

"Marcus, take Lily to the airport and do not stop for anyone," I commanded.

"I am going back to Thorne Manor to end this family curse once and for all."

I stripped off my heavy tactical gear, leaving only my sidearm and a combat knife hidden in my boot.

I wanted to walk through the front doors looking exactly like the broken soldier my enemies expected to see.

I drove a stolen mercenary truck through the dark, winding roads toward the edge of town.

The wrought-iron gates of Thorne Manor were hanging wide open, inviting me into the deadly trap.

I parked on the gravel driveway and slowly walked up the front steps of my childhood home.

The massive wooden doors were unlocked, and the interior of the house was completely silent.

I stepped into the grand foyer, the scent of expensive gasoline burning my nostrils instantly.

"Right on time, Elias," a cultured voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.

Uncle Robert walked down the steps, looking incredibly sharp in a tailored midnight-blue suit.

He held a silver remote detonator casually in his right hand.

"You always were the predictable hero of the family," Robert mocked.

I looked into the dining room and saw Sarah bound tightly to a heavy oak chair.

Her face was pale with terror, and tears streamed down her perfectly manicured cheeks.

She looked at me with desperate, apologetic eyes, finally realizing the true cost of her greed.

"Let her go, Robert, you already have the deed to the land," I said calmly.

"I have the deed, but I need you both dead to prevent any future legal contest," Robert smiled.

He raised the detonator high into the air, his thumb resting heavily on the red trigger.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

"Say goodbye to your legacy, soldier," Robert sneered.

Before he could press the button, a massive explosion shattered the massive glass chandelier above us.

Chapter 7 - The Ghost of the Past