I continued, "Henry is critically ill. He needs money for treatment. And now you're asking me to return 200 thousand dollars?"

There was a pause on the other end before Arthur's cold voice came through. "I don't have a choice. That money was marital property between me and Lauren. If you really have no way out, go beg Lauren. She's not short on money. She's just suing you to vent."

What right did I have to resist anymore?

Compared to Henry's life, my dignity meant nothing.

…

As I stood in front of the grand villa, the helpers looked me up and down like I was a beggar—or maybe a joke.

When I went inside, Lauren had just taken off a face mask and was gently massaging her skin.

Her smile was mocking, though she pretended to be surprised. "You came to see me to…"

I lowered my head deeply. My throat was so dry that it felt like it was being cut open. "Please spare me. The money Arthur transferred was for our daughter's child support. My brother is seriously ill and needs money for treatment. I can't lose that money."

Lauren raised a brow. "That doesn't sound very sincere. Just saying it isn't enough. If you want me to drop the lawsuit, get down on your knees and slap yourself. I want that on tape. If I'm satisfied, I might consider it."

I glanced at Arthur, who stood there in silence. He only turned his head away.

I closed my eyes.

My knees hit the cold floor with a dull thud.

Lauren held up her phone to record. A satisfied smile played on her lips as she gestured for me to begin.

I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the face again and again.

The sound was sharp.

Heat spread across my skin quickly.

"Is that enough?" I looked up at them.

Only then did Lauren lower her phone, though her expression suggested she wasn't quite satisfied.

Then, her tone took a sharp turn. "Apologizing is one thing. You still have to return the money. I said I'd consider dropping the lawsuit. I never said you wouldn't have to pay."

The pain in my knees and the burning on my face reminded me of every bit of humiliation.

Just as I was about to break down, my phone rang.

Thinking it might be about Henry, I answered immediately.

A stranger's voice sounded. "Hi, Ms. Weber. I'm Terrell Clemons, the lawyer for Ms. Paula Rodriguez."

I frowned.

Paula's lawyer?

If anything had come up, he should have contacted Arthur.

As I was lost in thought, Terrell continued, "Ms. Rodriguez made a will before her passing and entrusted me to notarize it. All her assets are to be inherited by you. I recently learned that Ms. Rodriguez has passed away. I'm calling to discuss the inheritance process with you."

I froze, wondering if I had heard wrong.

Arthur's family had been dirt poor. Paula had been bedridden for seven years. What inheritance could there possibly be?

And even if there was, it wouldn't be enough to involve a lawyer.

"Are you sure Ms. Rodriguez left her inheritance to me?"

Hearing me ask that, Arthur immediately sensed that something was off. He rushed over. "What inheritance? My mom left something?"

The voice on the phone came through clearly. Both Arthur and I heard it loud and clear.

"Ms. Rodriguez left behind two boxes of gold bars as an inheritance. You, Ms. Hattie Weber, are the sole beneficiary."