Cindy's screeching was closely followed by Harley's voice, now taking on a measured, manipulative tone. "Cindy, I've heard of a fortune-swapping curse from the countryside. If a short-lived person uses items belonging to a healthy person, they'll absorb the latter's life force—"

Cindy exploded with rage before Harley had even finished speaking. "Ian, you shameless country bumpkin! What are you trying to do to Dad?"

I was forced to listen to her cursing and screaming at me for the next five or six minutes.

Cindy was just like that—all beauty and no brains.

My mother-in-law, Mandy Teller, had died from complications during childbirth, leaving behind her daughter, Cindy. Because Eason was terrified that a stepmother might treat Cindy poorly, he chose never to remarry.

Cindy was his only child, and she grew up naive and sheltered. As the years went on, Eason became deeply concerned about who would take over the reins of the company he had worked so hard to build.

He decided he needed someone with good business acumen and moral integrity to marry into the Chapman family. By chance, he met me while I was working part-time as a waiter at a business dinner.

After looking into my family background and fully understanding my nature, he decided I was the one. He arranged for me and Cindy to go on a blind date, then had me join Chapman Group as an entry-level employee after I graduated.

Of course, things didn't go as smoothly as he intended.

Cindy had a boyfriend at the time—Harley—but Eason only took a single glance at him before labeling him as a lazy, silver-tongued liar. Naturally, Cindy didn't believe him, and she got into an intense fight with him over the relationship.

In the end, Eason froze all her credit cards. In less than three days, Harley disappeared without a trace.

Having lost that fight, Cindy had no choice but to reluctantly marry me. Unexpectedly, Harley showed up again three months ago, and shortly after that, Cindy began staying out all night.

I suppressed my anger and waited for her to finish her rant before I spoke again. "Cindy, I know you have something against me, but I wouldn't joke about something like this. Your father really is in the back seat right now. He suddenly suffered a heart attack, so I—"

Harley interrupted me mid-sentence. "Don't fall for it, Cindy. Doesn't your father practice yoga every day? He's still going strong, so how could he possibly have suffered a heart attack?"

Cindy, always naive, found Harley's logic reasonable and became even more convinced that I was lying.

"Dad always praised your morals, Ian, but so much for that. You're now cursing him into an early grave for your own selfish desires! Do you not have a conscience? Don't forget that if not for our family giving you an opportunity, you'd be nothing more than an employee for life!"

When I heard Cindy starting to go on another rant, I lost my patience and hung up.

The traffic light at the upcoming intersection turned red, so I stepped on the brakes. Suddenly, there was a bang; a violent impact from behind sent the car sliding forward. The rear window cracked from the force, and several glass shards rained down on Eason's face.

The hospital was just past this intersection.

As I stared intently at the traffic light, I said to Eason, "Please hang on a little longer, Eason. We'll reach the hospital in a minute!"

Eason's assistant, Anthony Leigh, had already contacted the hospital in advance. The moment I pulled up at the entrance, stretchers and medical personnel would be waiting to rush him to the operating room.

Just as the traffic light was about to turn green, Harley drove over the double yellow line to cut in front of my car.

I was so focused on the traffic light that I didn't notice him pulling ahead on my left. When the light turned green, I floored the accelerator.

With a sickening crunch, my car collided with the sports car deliberately blocking my way.

My forehead struck the windshield, and blood started running down my face. My chest slammed into the steering wheel, sending an intense jolt of pain through me.

I reached up to wipe the blood from my eyes, gritted my teeth, and kept driving.

Time was running out. My current priority was getting Eason to the hospital.

When Cindy saw me continuing ahead, she turned and yelled at Harley, "After him! Keep going! At most, we'll just end up killing him, but the settlement for one life is a few million dollars at most. Our family has plenty of money!"

Harley, for his part, actually had some brains. As he watched me disappear into the distance, he smiled sinisterly and said, "There's no need to go after him. Just call the police on him for a hit-and-run!"

When I arrived at the hospital, I scrambled out of the car and helped the medical staff transfer Eason onto a stretcher and into the operating room.

When Mr. Leigh arrived, he was so alarmed by the sight of me covered in blood that he insisted on rushing me to the emergency room. A doctor diagnosed me with a minor concussion and a fracture in my left arm. She was still treating my wound on my forehead when Mr. Leigh walked in.

"What happened, Mr. Jowett? I went to the parking lot and saw the state of the car. How was it damaged so badly?" he asked.

I shook my head, remaining silent. I wanted to believe that Cindy hadn't done it on purpose. If she had known it was her own father in the back seat, she surely wouldn't have gone through with such a reckless act. At any rate, I had successfully gotten Eason to the hospital, so I was willing to let the matter rest.

Mr. Leigh, who knew me well, realized I didn't want to pursue the issue. "Mr. Chapman has safely arrived at the hospital. As long as you're alright, we can forget about the rest!"

I'd always valued harmony over conflict, living by the principle of live and let live. However, the doctor stitching my forehead couldn't stand it any longer. She said huffily, "You can't just let something like this slide, sir. Do you realize how badly wounded you are?"

Mr. Leigh agreed with the doctor. He had inspected the damage to the car and realized that Harley had rammed into me with full force, clearly intending to kill.

"Mr. Jowett, I know how kind-hearted you are, but…"

Before he could finish his sentence, a doctor in a white coat burst into the room, his expression grave. I recognized him immediately as the lead surgeon in charge of Eason's operation. My heart skipped a beat, and an ominous chill washed over me.

"Mr. Jowett, Mr. Leigh, we tried our best," the doctor said heavily. "Our condolences. Mr. Chapman arrived too late. If he'd made it just a minute earlier, then… Furthermore, the glass shards sliced into his blood vessels, resulting in excessive blood loss. So…"

Upon hearing that, the world went silent, save for a dull buzzing in my ears. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. If not for the doctor catching me, I would have collapsed backward.

We'd been a minute too late, and the glass shards had cut into Eason's blood vessels.

Cindy and Harley stalled us deliberately, and the glass shards were the direct consequence of their cruel intent. They had essentially signed his death warrant. If not for them, Eason would never have died.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Having interacted with Eason for the past few years, I had long since come to view him as my own father. He had never looked down on me for my humble beginnings; he had taught me how to carry myself with integrity and guided me through the complexities of business management.

He had once told me that Cindy wasn't suited for the heavy responsibilities of the company, and that the burden would eventually fall to me.

He also recognized the strain my marriage to Cindy put on me. He promised that once he reached 100 years old, I could rename the Chapman Group to the Jowett Group.

I still couldn't fathom that Eason, who embraced me like a son, was gone just like that. And worst of all, it was at the hands of his own daughter.

My chest tightened with a searing, suffocating rage. Mr. Leigh, who had served Eason for decades, was equally devastated.

"Ms. Chapman is still unaware of this. Should we inform her?" he asked.

I offered a cold, mirthless smile. How would Cindy react when she discovered she had caused her own father's death?

Just as I was about to answer, several uniformed police officers walked into the room. "Are you Ian Jowett? We've received a report that you were involved in a hit-and-run. You need to come with us to the precinct."