She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 717

"You're awake," Forrest smiled.

Hank handed a sheet of paper to Loyce, leaning in close. "Horace was a selfish, deeply twisted bastard. His kids were subjected to his depraved 'parenting,' and the old man was a complete control freak when it came to his money. He never wrote a will. He kept every dime locked tight in his own pockets."

Loyce raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"From what I gathered," Larry explained, "during his late wife's illness right up until her death, there was a revolving door of women in his house. According to his daughter, he would engage in vile acts with prostitutes right in front of his dying wife. At his most depraved, he even tried to force his children to participate. Once their mother finally passed, every single one of his children voluntarily legally severed their ties with him. Nobody wanted anything to do with a monster like that for the rest of their lives."

"Which means," Hank concluded, "the profits from parcels A7 and A8, plus the mountain of wealth Horace amassed over his lifetime... according to the line of succession, Sybil is the sole legal heir."

"However," Larry added, "now that Horace is dead and there's a fortune of this magnitude on the table, there's a very high probability his children will come back out of the woodwork to contest the estate."

The puzzle pieces instantly clicked into place.

This was why Alicia was so willing to let Sybil die. When she married her daughter off, she likely already knew exactly what kind of degenerate Horace was and the state of his family relations.

"Where is Horace's financial advisor?" Loyce asked. "Bring him here. Have him explain Horace's personal assets and the inheritance laws to Sybil. She's not an idiot. She'll figure out exactly why they wanted her dead."

Horace's longtime financial advisor, Mr. Nash, hadn't even had time to sort out the ledgers before Forrest's men tracked down his address and 'invited' him over.

Right now, Sybil was a headless fly. The longer she remained lucid, the more terrified she became of what she had done. She didn't regret exposing her parents—she regretted blowing up her own safety net.

What was she going to do now? Would she face legal repercussions? Would she go to prison? Would she end up sharing a cell with her mother?

When the police gently pressed her again to confirm her public statement, she stammered, "That day? I... I don't know what I was saying..."

She was just about to retract her confession when the hospital room door swung open.

Even the stoic detective beside her couldn't help but shoot a wide-eyed glance at the asset summary.

Sybil's eyes widened slowly, transitioning from confusion to shock, and finally to an absurd, incredulous stare. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

That number detonated in her brain, creating a violently stark contrast against the cold interrogation room, her parents' impending prison sentences, and the terrifying, destitute future she had been dreading just moments ago.

"I... inherit it all?" she croaked, her voice trembling. "Why would it go to me?"

"Well, years ago, due to severe domestic conflicts, Mr. Fremont's children legally severed all ties with him, forfeiting both their duty of care and their inheritance rights. The paperwork is ironclad. Therefore, by default, his entire estate transfers to you."

Mr. Nash cautiously added, "However, given the sheer magnitude of the wealth, we cannot rule out the possibility that his estranged children will attempt to contest this once they realize the dollar amount. You will likely need to hire a formidable attorney to assist me in processing the estate."

Sybil sat paralyzed on the bed. Though the sheer shock had temporarily stalled her cognitive functions, as the seconds ticked by, crystalline clarity pierced through the fog. She suddenly asked, "He legally cut off his kids years ago, didn't he?"