Ethan and his mother stood there watching me with their arms crossed and triumphant expressions. They were waiting, waiting for me to break down completely, to pack my bags and leave in humiliation.
“Why haven’t you left yet?” Ethan said with a mocking smile. “Or are you waiting for your daddy to actually show up? that wouldn’t be so bad. He could see with his own eyes how his precious daughter gets thrown out onto the street. Maybe then he’ll regret not raising her better.”
Every word from his mouth was torture.
I couldn’t bear it anymore.
In my despair and extreme pain, I could no longer think clearly. As a reflex, I grabbed my smartphone and with trembling hands dialed my father’s number.
I didn’t know why I was calling. Maybe I just wanted to hear his voice. Maybe I was looking for a shred of comfort. Or maybe I just wanted to apologize for putting him through this humiliation.
The phone was answered on the first ring.
“Dad, it’s me.”
My voice broke, unable to form words. It felt like the whole world was filled with nothing but my weeping.
“Sophia, don’t cry.”
My father’s voice on the other end showed none of the anger or confusion I expected. On the contrary, his voice was incredibly calm and composed with a strange strength.
Dad knows everything.
I froze. All the pain inside me seemed to stop for an instant.
“Dad, you don’t worry.”
My father interrupted.
“I recorded everything that scoundrel said. My girl, you’ve suffered a lot. You did very well. You were very brave.”
My father’s voice was no longer the tired, helpless voice of a bankrupt man. It was deep and full of authority, as if a lion, long silent, had finally awakened.
“Now listen to me carefully.”
His voice was firm, allowing no argument.
“Don’t go anywhere. Stay in that house. Don’t take a single step out the door, no matter what they say or do. If you have to, lock your bedroom door. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand,” I replied, still dazed, not understanding what my father was planning. Why was he so calm? Why was he telling me to stay?
“Good. Stay put. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”
“But—but what are you going to do when you get here?” I asked worriedly. “He and his mother are here. They’re very aggressive. They’ll insult you.”
“Trust your father.”
That was all he said. Three words, but they carried the weight of a ton.
In an instant, all my confusion vanished, replaced by an absolute faith.
He hung up.
I stood there, phone in hand. My father was coming in 30 minutes. What was he planning? How could a ruined man with nothing face such arrogant people? Was he coming to beg them for my sake?
No, that couldn’t be it. My father’s voice wasn’t that of someone coming to plead. It was the voice of someone coming to deliver justice.
Ethan and his mother, seeing my stunned expression after the call, gloated even more.
“What? You tattled to your daddy?” Ethan mocked. “Let’s see what that broke old man can do when he gets here. Is he going to come and kneel to apologize for his daughter? That would be a sight to see.”
“Don’t waste your breath on her,” Carol said, heading to the kitchen with disdain. “Let him come. Let him come and take this nuisance away. What a relief. I’ll have some tea while I enjoy the show.”
With that, she leisurely went to the kitchen.
Ethan flopped onto the sofa, crossed his legs, and turned on a sports channel, completely ignoring my presence. They were enjoying their last moments of arrogance, unaware that a giant tsunami was about to crash down and wash away all their hubris and dirty schemes.
I said nothing.
I went silently up to my bedroom and, as my father had instructed, locked the door. I didn’t pack. I just went to the window, pulled the curtain aside slightly, and looked down at the street.
I waited for 30 minutes. The 30 minutes of destiny that would decide the future of my family and theirs. I was no longer afraid. Instead, I felt a strange excitement, as if I was about to witness something extraordinary.
Exactly 30 minutes later, I started to hear a distant rumble. The roar of car engines grew louder and louder until it stopped right in front of our building.
I held my breath and peered out the window.
A motorcade had appeared. It wasn’t the old taxi or scooter that Ethan and his mother might have imagined. Leading the way was a gleaming black Rolls-Royce Phantom, a car I could never mistake—the same car my father used for meetings with his most important partners. The late afternoon sun glinted off its luxurious black paint.
Following it were two black Mercedes S-Class sedans, and bringing up the rear was a large black Escalade, the kind used for security details.
When the motorcade stopped, it took up the entire street, creating an imposing and authoritative scene.
downstairs, Ethan and his mother also heard the noise and came out onto the balcony out of curiosity. When they saw the line of cars, the smiles on their faces froze. They looked at each other in bewilderment, not understanding what was happening. They probably thought some big shot had gotten the wrong address.
The door of the Rolls-Royce opened and a man in a black suit and sunglasses got out. It was Mr. Alonzo, my father’s most trusted head of security. He politely walked around the car to open the rear door.
And then my father stepped out.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit, and on his wrist gleamed the limited edition Paddock Phipe watch I had given him for his last birthday. His hair was impeccably styled, and his shoes shone. He looked nothing like a ruined man drowning in debt. He was majestic and imposing, like an emperor returning to his kingdom.
From the other cars emerged our family’s lawyer, Mr. Jennings and a team of nearly a dozen bodyguards, all tall and well-built, in black uniforms that made them look intensely professional.
From my bedroom window, I watched the scene, speechless with shock, and then I burst into tears. But this time, they were tears of happiness and overwhelming emotion.
Dad, my father wasn’t bankrupt. It had all been an act.
Downstairs, Ethan and his mother were also on the balcony, stunned. The color drained from their faces, shifting from arrogance to confusion and then to extreme panic. They weren’t fools. They were beginning to realize they had walked into a trap.
The security team quickly fanned out, securing the area around the entrance. My father and Mr. Jennings walked calmly into the building through the main door that Ethan, in his arrogance, had forgotten to lock after insulting me.
I quickly unlocked my bedroom door, wiped my tears, and hurried downstairs.
When I got there, my father and Mr. Jennings had just entered the living room.
“Dad,” I cried out, overwhelmed with joy and shock.
My father turned to me, his stern gaze softened for an instant. He walked over, opened his arms, and held me tightly.
“My girl,” he said, patting my trembling back. “I’m sorry for putting you through this. It’s all over now.”
My father’s embrace, that firm, warm hug, washed away all the humiliation and pain I had suffered. I felt safe.
Ethan and Carol then stumbled down the stairs. They stood at the top, staring at the scene. Their faces were as white as paper, and their legs were shaking.
“Mister, Mr. Prescott,” Ethan stammered, his voice no longer arrogant, but filled with terror. “How? How did you get here? Your company?”
My father released me and turned to face them. His gentle expression vanished, replaced by a gaze as cold and sharp as a razor, a look that seemed to pierce right through their souls.
“My company,” he sneered, a laugh full of sarcasm. “Thank you for your concern. It’s doing very well. In fact, we just closed a massive deal in Dubai this morning.”
“What? What are you saying?” Carol shrieked, disbelieving. “Impossible. You’re lying. You’re bankrupt. You said so yourself.”
“Yes, I said so myself,” my father admitted calmly. “But it wasn’t bad news. It was a test. A test to see the true nature of people.”
“A test?” I froze.
Ethan and Carol were equally horrified.
“A test.” Carol’s voice was filled with disbelief. It seemed she still couldn’t accept that she had been tricked.
My father, as if she wasn’t even worth a reply, sat down calmly on the sofa in the exact same spot where, just minutes before, Ethan had sat arrogantly with his legs crossed.
My father motioned for me to sit beside him. His relaxed demeanor was that of a king in his own palace.
Mr. Jennings wasted no time. He walked to the glass coffee table and opened his briefcase.
“Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller,” he said in a polite but emotionless voice. “I believe it’s time you learned the whole truth.”
Mister Jennings pulled out a dark blue bound folder and placed it on the table.
“This is the original property agreement drafted on the wedding day of Mr. Ethan Miller and Miss Sophia Prescott 5 years ago. Mr. Ethan Miller’s Richard Prescott as the bride’s father gifted this multi-million dollar penthouse as a shared marital asset.”
“Yes. So what?” Carol retorted the veins in her neck bulging. She seemed to have regained some courage at the mention of her evidence. “But Sophia signed a document, a quit claim deed, gifting her entire share to my son. This house is now the sole property of Ethan. The court ruled on it. We have a clear document. How dare you try to overturn it?”
She said confidently, clinging to her legal victory.
Mr. Jennings smiled, a smile mixed with pity and sarcasm.
“Ma’am, don’t be so hasty. That court victory is likely only temporary. Would you mind carefully reading the final clause of this original agreement? Article 9, section three.”
He pointed to a line printed in very small font at the bottom of the last page, a spot easily missed if one didn’t read carefully.
Ethan and Carol leaned forward hurriedly, squinting to read. Their once confident faces turned from red to white, then to a pale blue.
Mr. Jennings, giving them no time to process, read aloud, his voice clear as a judge, delivering a sentence.
“Special provision 9.3. The property in question is hereby placed into a revocable trust, the Miller Prescott Residence Trust, for the sole benefit of the married couple, Ethan Miller and Sophia Prescott. The grtor and sole trustee of this trust is Richard Prescott. This trust and all property titles associated with it shall remain legally valid only so long as the beneficiaries Ethan Miller and Sophia Prescott maintain a legally valid marital relationship. In the event the marital relationship is terminated for any reason, including divorce or the death of either party, this trust shall automatically dissolve. any subsequent transfer, gift, sale, mortgage, or other incumbrance placed upon said property without the express written and notorized consent of the original grtor, Richard Prescott, shall be considered null and void. The property will automatically revert to the full ownership of the Prescott Group LLC.”
“Null and void?” Carol stammered, her voice breaking. She swayed and had to grab her son’s arm to keep from falling.
“That’s right, ma’am.” Mr. Jennings said, his voice like ice. “To put it simply, that quit claim deed that Mr. Miller holds, the one you treasure so much, became legally worthless the moment he and Miss Sophia were officially divorced. It’s just a piece of paper now.”
“No, impossible,” Ethan screamed, completely losing his composure. “This is a trap. You set us up. Who’s ever heard of such an absurd clause? What law allows this?”
Mr. Jennings smiled again.
“Mr. Miller, I see you’re not well-versed in contract law. This is a perfectly legal provision within a revocable trust. When you and Miss Sophia accepted this gift, you accepted its conditions. You can’t claim ignorance now. Furthermore, at the time, your own lawyer reviewed this agreement and confirmed there were no legal issues.”
Ethan was stunned. He remembered the day he signed the contract. He was so euphoric about receiving such a massive gift from his father-in-law that he paid no attention to the fine print. He had walked right into the trap with his own two feet. An incredibly well-calulated legal trap.
“What about the court’s ruling?” Carol asked, trying to cling to her last hope. “The court ruled that this house belongs to my son.”
“The trial court’s ruling was based on the evidence presented at that time.” Mr. Jennings explained calmly. “At that time, we did not present this original trust agreement. Why? Because we wanted to see just how far your little show would go. Now, we have sufficient proof of Mr. Miller’s fraudulent intent, plus this original trust document. We will be filing an appeal, and I guarantee you 100% that the appellet court’s ruling will be entirely different. Mr. Miller will not only lose the house, but he could also face charges for fraud and misappropriation of assets.”
Ethan and his mother completely fell apart. They looked at each other, then at my father, with expressions of sheer horror. They had been trapped, a trap set 5 years ago, and sprung at the perfect moment. They were too arrogant. They underestimated us, and now they had to taste the bitterest defeat.
When Mr. Jennings finished his explanation, a heavy silence fell over the living room. Ethan and his mother slumped onto the sofa, their eyes vacant. Not a trace of their former arrogance left. They had lost spectacularly.
My father, who had watched everything in silence, finally stood up. His gaze wasn’t that of a victor. In his eyes, there was only disappointment and a deep sadness.
“Ethan,” he began, his voice deep and authoritative. “I once trusted you. I thought you were an ambitious, talented young man, and most importantly, that you sincerely loved my daughter. I didn’t hesitate to give you my most precious child in marriage, and I gave you a fortune to build your lives on. I hoped you would create a happy family with Sophia, and that eventually you would help me run this business.”
He shook his head, disappointed.
“After a few years of observation, if I felt you had truly matured, I plan to entrust you with a major part of the Prescott Group, a position you probably never even dreamed of. And this bankruptcy charade was my final test for you.”
Hearing that, not just Ethan and Carol, but I too was stunned. A final test.
My father looked at me with an apologetic expression.
“Sophia, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I had to. I needed to know if the man you chose, the man I was about to entrust with my daughter’s future and my entire legacy, was truly trustworthy.”
He turned his gaze back to Ethan.
“I wanted to see your true nature when my daughter was no longer a rich man’s child. when her family collapsed, when she became a burden. I wanted to see if, as you vowed on your wedding day, you would stand by her side and overcome hardship together, or if—”
my father didn’t finish the sentence, but we all understood.
“I gave you a chance.” His voice became firm. “A chance to prove yourself as a man, as a husband, but you have disappointed me profoundly. You not only showed your greed and treachery, but you abandoned your wife in her moment of greatest pain and even cooked up a vile scheme with your mother to steal her last asset. You don’t deserve to be my daughter’s husband. You don’t deserve to inherit anything from me.”
My father’s words were the final judgment, slamming shut every door to Ethan’s future.
It was then that he realized what he had lost. not just a penthouse, but an immense fortune, a giant business, and a brilliant future. He had thrown it all away for his own greed and short-sightedness.
He looked up at my father and me. He dropped to his knees before my father.
“Sir, Dad, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, tears of a belated regret. “I I was possessed. Greed blinded me. Please, please forgive me just this once. I promise I’ll change. I’ll treat Sophia right. Please don’t kick us out.”
Carol, seeing her son, scrambled to kneel beside him.
“That’s right, Richard.” She wailed miserably. “It’s all my fault. It was me in my old age and foolishness who incited my son. Please think of the young couple of the 5 years they lived as husband and wife, and forgive us this one time. We are truly sorry.”
They started another tearful performance, but this time it had no effect.
My father just looked at them coldly.
“Forgiveness. If the person who came here today wasn’t me, but a truly bankrupt old man, would you be saying these words? Or would you have insulted that old man to his face and thrown his daughter onto the street without mercy?”
They were speechless at my father’s question.
“I gave you the chance, but you threw it away with your own hands.” My father said to Ethan, “There’s nothing more to discuss.”
Ethan remained kneeling on the cold marble floor, but he was no longer crying or begging. He lifted his head and looked at us at my father and me. His eyes no longer held remorse, but the empty, desperate look of someone who had lost everything.
He started mumbling as if he had lost his mind.
“A test. It was a test. The bankruptcy was fake.”
He let out a dry, crazed laugh.
“Haha. So that’s what it was. It was all a play. a play to test my heart. You You treated me like a lab rat, and now you’re enjoying the show, watching me fall into your trap.”
“We didn’t see you as a rat,” my father said, his voice glacial. “You turned yourself into one, chasing the bait in front of you, blind to the trap hanging over your head.”
Carol, after a moment of being dazed, regained her senses, but her mind had twisted into a demonic fury. She was no longer crying or begging. She leaped to her feet and pointed a finger at my father’s face. The hypocritical, gentle mask had fallen away completely, leaving only shamelessness and greed.
“You’re a real piece of work, Richard Prescott,” she shrieked beside herself. “Because you have money and power, you can do whatever you want. Play games, testing people with your daughter and your fortune, you think we’re your toys.”
“Yes, my son was wrong. His mistake was not being as ruthless and cruel as you.”
She turned to her son.
“Ethan, get up. What are you doing just sitting there? You did nothing wrong. Your only mistake was being too kind and trusting people. After living with this old man’s daughter for 5 years, treating her like a princess. Now his whole family gangs up to throw you out. Are you still going to kneel before these people?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Even in this situation, she could twist the truth, shamelessly confusing black and white. In her mouth, her son had become the victim, and we were the cruel executioners.
“Mrs. Miller.” Mr. Jennings intervened then. His voice was still calm but sharp. “I suggest you watch your words. Who served whom and who was in the wrong is something you know better than anyone. And I’ll remind you once again. Legally, this house was never your son’s property.”
“Shut up.” Carol started insulting the lawyer. “You’re nothing but a hired gun for that old man. The papers say Sophia gifted the house to my son. The court ruled on it. You think you can just overturn it?”
She was desperately clinging to the erroneous trial court ruling like a drowning person to a piece of driftwood.
My father just shook his head slightly, his face showing clear disappointment. He seemed unwilling to argue further with a woman who had lost her mind.
But Ethan, he seemed to be spurred on by his mother’s words. His despair turned to anger. He got to his feet and stared at my father. His eyes no longer held fear, but a crazed defiance.
“She’s right,” he said, his voice. “She’s right. I failed your test. But don’t celebrate too soon. The court ruled that this house is mine. Even with your strange clause, the court’s ruling still stands. You want to appeal? It won’t be easy. I’ll see you in appellet court. Let’s see if your money can beat the simple logic of black and white.”
He was even threatening us. He believed that with the ruling he had in hand, he still had a chance. Greed had completely blinded him. He didn’t know who he was up against.
I looked at the man before me, the man I once loved. Only bitterness remained in my heart. He felt not the slightest remorse. He had chosen to fight to the bitter end.
My father looked from Ethan to Carol. He wasn’t angry at all. He just smiled coldly.
“Fine, if that’s what you want.”
He turned to the lawyer.
“Mr. Jennings, I don’t think we’ll need to wait for the appeal. Show them the last gift I prepared for them.”
The last gift?
I was surprised, too.
Mr. Jennings nodded and opened his briefcase again, but this time what he took out wasn’t a folder, but a tablet. He played a video, set it on the table, and turned the screen toward Ethan and his mother.
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