Her fifth daughter died, so she deleted his bloodline. novel Chapter 95

Chapter 9

Ethan didn’t leave. He pitched a tent outside the camp and stubbornly stayed, like a

madman.

The man who once carried himself like royalty now looked ragged, stubble shadowing

his jaw, exhaustion bruising the skin beneath his eyes.

He’d dismissed Sophie and sent a truck of supplies up the mountain: premium provisions, high-grade gear, things meant to signal care. It was his version of an

apology, tangible, expensive, and entirely missing the point. As if forgiveness were just

another line item waiting for his approval.

At noon, I had just returned from taking measurements. Ethan rushed over with a thermal lunchbox, offering it to me like a treasure. “Summer, I had these flown in from that gastropub near campus, the one you always said made the best truffle mac and

cheese.”

I looked at the creamy pasta, gold-edged under the lid, fragrant with truffle and aged cheddar. It smelled decadent, exactly as I remembered. But the thought of taking a bite

made my stomach tighten.

“Ethan,” I said, not touching it. “Your memory is really terrible. I never liked truffle mac. That was Sophie’s favorite.”

Ethan was stunned. “How is that possible? That time it was raining heavily, you ran

halfway across the city to buy…”

“Yeah,” I cut him off. “She’d said she was craving it, so you sent me out to get it. I remember it was raining, I came back drenched. You two were on the couch, already

eating. Didn’t offer me a bowl, didn’t even make space,”

“Funny, the things you choose to forget.”

Ethan’s face went pale. His hand jerked, the container slipped, hit the ground, and split open. Mac and cheese splattered across the dift and his pant leg. He stood there, staring

at the mess, looking utterly undone.

Unwilling to give up, he pulled a velvet box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was an

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enormous pink diamond ring, blindingly dazzling. “What about this? You must like this! It’s a rare pink diamond. I paid a fortune for it at auction. Summer, come home with me. I’ll buy you anything you want from now on.”

I looked at that ring and laughed again at his stupidity, at his conceit. “Ethan, do you even look at her socials? She posted this exact ring last month. Called it her ‘dream piece.’ And now you’re handing it to me? What happened, did she turn it down, or am I just your consolation prize?”

Ethan was completely flustered. He fumbled with the ring, unsure whether to give it or take it back. “That’s not it… I just thought it was pretty… Summer, I really want to make it up to you…”

“Make it up to me?” I stared coldly at him.

“With what?” I repeated, the words quiet and deliberate. “Her leftovers? Your guilt, dressed up as generosity?”

“You didn’t love me, Ethan. You loved the idea of a wife who asked for nothing. Who was always there, always agreeable. Now that I’m neither, you can’t handle it. That’s not love, it’s ownership. And I’m not for sale.

Just as Ethan was breaking down, Sophie appeared again. Though fired, she hadn’t given up. She’d somehow gotten her hands on a so-called “top-secret document.”

Barging into the camp, she pointed at me and shouted, “Ethan, look at this. I found this on the shared drive, export logs, IP traces. Summer’s been pulling internal data for

months. She’s funneling it to Apex Dynamics. This isn’t just spite, it’s corporate

sabotage.”

Sophie was disheveled, her eyes venomous. This was her last struggle. As long as she could pin the blame on me, she thought she still had a chance to turn things around.

Ethan was momentarily stunned, taking the document. I was also taken aback. Leak secrets? What secrets did I have? Ethan opened the file. The more he read, the worse his expression became. Finally, his hands began tremble violently.

It wasn’t any trade secret. It was a detailed “Household Expense Optimization Plan,”

meticulously recording how, over the past three years, Sophie had skimmed every

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expense of mine through the OA system.

[Clothing allowance for Mrs. Crawford reduced by 80%. Reallocated to ‘Client Relations

& Maintenance.’]

[Medical reimbursement request denied. Generic alternatives recommended. Cost savings redirected to ‘Executive Gifting & Hospitality.’]

At the bottom of each memo, in clean, familiar handwriting, was Ethan’s signature. Approved. Proceed as outlined.

So this was how it worked. It wasn’t just Sophie skimming the edges. It was Ethan signing off on every cut, every redirect, every coldly worded denial. His signature wasn’t just permission, it was the blade. And he’d been holding it the whole time.

So. This was the truth. It wasn’t just Sophie acting alone. It was Ethan’s every “approval,” every “don’t bother me,” every “do as Sophie says” that together forged

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