Filed To Story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family
Fuming, Serena couldn’t believe that this lowly nurse, earning a measly paycheck, dared to treat her with such disrespect.
If it weren’t for Martin being so worked up and not noticing the exchange, she would have found a way to ensure that the nurse lost her job.
“Martin, let me help you with the dressing,” Serena said, pressing a button on the armrest of the wheelchair to move closer and gently tugging at his sleeve.
The gesture melted Martin’s heart, his anger subsiding considerably. He looked at Serena with a mix of guilt and gratitude, “I’m sorry, Serena.”
“I know. He’s got a thing for your sister, and with her in this state, he’s just torn up inside. He just wants to figure out whether the crash was intentional or an accident.”
Serena coaxed Martin into sitting down, her voice tender, “Actually, I’m kind of happy for your sister. To have a guy who cares so much about her. I’m even more eager than he is for Diana to wake up. I hope they can tie the knot soon.”Touched and heartbroken, Martin stroked her hair and pulled her close into his embrace.
“Even after what he did to you, you still speak so kindly of him.” Martin’s affection for her grew, along with his sense of guilt.
“The fact that Diana was against our relationship and now she’s in this condition—it’s natural for him to suspect me.” Serena said understandingly, “Once he figures out that I have nothing to do with the accident, and after seeing how I behave while your sister and parents are in the hospital, I believe that they will eventually accept me.”
Looking at her innocent face, Martin was moved even more.
“Let me tend to your wounds now.” Serena said gently, “Look at you, fighting with your best friend.
Once this is all over, you guys will need to make peace. A friend who cares so much for you and loves your sister is hard to find.”
At that moment, a bodyguard knocked on the door and reported, “Sir, the truck driver responsible for Miss Diana’s accident has passed away after unsuccessful resuscitation efforts.”
Serena heard this, continuing to dress Martin’s wound with a calm demeanor.
“I understand, you can leave now,” Martin replied, his attention fully on Serena. The fate of the driver was of no concern to him.She passed out from grief and, upon awakening, found a handsome, well-dressed young man by her side.
“Who are you?” she asked, puzzled and defensive. The driver’s wife, baffled, asked, “Why are you helping me?”
The driver’s wife was still uneasy. “You’re not going to pursue my husband’s liability?” she asked, with a tremor in her voice.
Her worry was that Diana’s family might come after her for a slew of expenses—medical bills, care costs, nutritional support—as it was her husband who had dozed off at the wheel, leading to the accident.
Though Diana was driving fast, she was within the speed limit and had not violated any traffic laws, so the bulk of the fault lay with her husband.
“I checked the road surveillance,” Fitch began, “and your husband’s driving was definitely erratic, like he was nodding off.”
Before Fitch could finish, the driver’s wife quickly interjected, “He’s been driving for twelve years and never once fell asleep at the wheel! He goes to bed early every night so that he can be alert the next day when driving.”
She explained to Fitch, “My husband works as a driver for an orchard out in the countryside. It sprawls over a large area with all kinds of fruit trees. Every morning, workers pick the freshest fruit which my husband then delivers to various stores around the city in his truck. Because the orchard’s produce is fresh and affordable, many shop owners prefer to order from them.”
She continued her story. “We live in the countryside, not far from the orchard. He leaves home at seven in the morning, helps load the freshly packed fruit, and delivers it to the stores. Usually, he’s not done until five or six in the evening. Then he drives the truck back and we, a family of seven, have dinner together.”
Her voice wavered as she recounted the events of the previous night. “Last night, like always, he was driving home. I never expected him to have an accident on that mountain road.”Tears welled up in her eyes again. “After that road, it’s just a short way to our house. He’s driven that road for twelve years. I just can’t believe it.”
“So, you’re saying his route has never changed?” Fitch picked up on something.
“That’s the only road back to the orchard. Normally he parks the truck and walks home, it’s just a six or seven-minute walk.”
“And how likely do you think it is that he fell asleep at the wheel?” Fitch probed further.
“I find it impossible. I’m not just speaking for my husband, but his driving skills and professional ethics would never allow him to doze off while driving.”
Fitch asked another delicate question, “I heard you crying outside earlier; it seems like there’s a lot of financial pressure on your family. I don’t mean to be rude; I just want to understand. In your opinion, is there any chance that your husband was trying to ease the family’s financial burden by taking such risks with his life?”
Without hesitation, the driver’s wife shot down the notion. “Impossible! My husband would never do something so harmful to others and himself. When my father-in-law was in the ICU, the daily costs were unbearable. Some suggested my husband could sell a kidney, but he firmly refused.””Sorry,” Fitch said, feeling remorse for his earlier suspicions.
“My husband is a responsible man. With ailing parents and three kids who aren’t grown up yet, he would never abandon us.” The driver’s wife wiped away her tears and couldn’t help but add, “Thinking about it now, his death really does seem suspicious.”
It wasn’t just a few hundred or a few thousand, nor was it a measly sum under ten grand. It was a whopping one hundred thousand dollars!
The kid in front of me looked like he was loaded.
“Cash,” Fitch added.
The driver’s wife nodded, shock written all over her face, “Alright, I agree.”
It wasn’t just about the money; it was more about not letting her husband’s death be in vain. If someone had really poisoned her husband, she’d go to the ends of the earth to get justice for him!
Mirabella received a text from Jones and, with a sly smile playing on her lips, made her way to the basement.
Jack was exhausted, taking a breather on the side. He hadn’t expected this tough nut to crack to be so resilient, refusing to spill even a single word no matter how hard he was pressed.
“So you’ve been serving Erik because he saved your parents back in the day, and after they passed, he took you under his wing like a godson, and that’s why you work for him?”
Stinger’s eyelids lifted as he looked at Mirabella, surprised she had figured it out so quickly.
“But what you don’t know is that your biological parents, they were killed by him.”
Mirabella’s words made Stinger’s gaze freeze, clearly disbelieving.
“Years ago, when your parents were fleeing your hometown with you by boat, they were ambushed by assassins hiding onboard shortly after departure. Outnumbered, your parents were severely wounded, and you too were injured and fell unconscious. The boat had to turn back to shore.””When you woke up, Erik told you he was a friend of your parents, said they were dead, and even showed you photos. He promised to give them a proper burial, and after the funeral, he took you to pay your respects. Then he encouraged you to learn skills and become capable so you could one day avenge your parents’ death.”
Stinger’s past played before his eyes, his normally dead gaze now flickering with emotion, stirred by the revelations.
“So, you became Erik’s puppet, doing his bidding, repaying him for saving your life and raising you.”The emotion in Stinger’s eyes turned to agitation, and he finally spoke, “You’re slandering him!”
His wrists were raw and bleeding from the rope’s cruel bite, but he seemed impervious to pain, still deluding himself with thoughts of escape.
With a swift jab, Jack landed a punishing blow to his stomach, forcing him to double over in agony, finally stilling him for a moment.
“The truth is, that grave was just a show for you. Your parents aren’t dead. Erik has them locked up, tormenting them daily. He even taunts them with photos and videos of you, calling the enemy ‘Dad,’ just to punish them for leaving the organization, to twist the knife of their suffering.”
Stinger couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his gaze at Mirabella laced with hate, doubt and belief.
Hate for her having his parents’ grave dug up.
Doubt because she might be sowing discord.
Belief because if it was all a lie, how could she craft such a convincing story, as if she had witnessed it all herself.
“We found someone, a witness to what happened back then,” Mirabella glanced at her watch, “He’ll be here any minute.”
Stinger’s eyes remained a mix of conflict and distrust.
The wait was only a few minutes, but to Stinger, it felt as long as a century.
Finally, when Jones appeared with a man in tow, all eyes snapped to the newcomer.
The man was short, barely five foot three.He removed his mask, revealing a ghastly scar running across his face, slashing from his forehead to his left cheek, distorting his left eye into a permanent squint, giving him an asymmetrical gaze.
Pulling off his beanie, a bald patch was visible where hair refused to grow. He told Stinger that he too once tried to leave the organization, and as punishment, Erik’s men had slashed him twice there, ensuring the hair would never return. The scar on his face was a testament to their cruelty.
He had been loyal to Erik for years, thinking he was different, but anyone who tried to leave faced Erik’s merciless vengeance.
He had been stabbed multiple times and kicked off a cliff, fortunate to land in a tree. A Good Samaritan saved him, and he spent his days thereafter in hiding.
“Your parents’ accident, I was there,” the man known as Blade recounted the same story Mirabella had told.Blade produced several old photographs and tossed them to Stinger.
“These photos, I secretly took them back then for my own protection. They’re all dated,” he said as he flung the pictures towards Stinger.
Some of the images would forever haunt him – the photographs of his parents, gaunt and ghostly, trapped in a dingy cellar, barely clinging to life. By the date stamped on those photos, they were still alive when he was five, but they looked broken, their expressions twisted in a way that was nearly inhuman.
“The year you turned five, your mom had already lost her mind,” Blade spoke with a tone that was both matter-of-fact and chilling. “The guards would mess with her for kicks, fooling her into eating filth and drinking urine. Your dad was powerless to stop it, held down, forced to endure the same humiliation. By the time you were seven, in order to spare your mom from more suffering, your dad took her life, and then his own.”
Stinger never imagined that his family’s tragedy was orchestrated by Erik.
And to think he had loyally followed this man, seeing him as a father figure, doing his bidding all these years.
“I wasn’t directly involved back then; I was just by Erik’s side, watching it all unfold. I didn’t want to come forward, didn’t want to draw a target on my back. But when I heard Erik was dead, and that someone was still out there, blindly loyal to him just like I used to be. Well, I thought it was time to show my face. Of course, I got a nice little incentive for my trouble, along with a new identity. From here on, I’m set for a comfortable life.”
After Blade finished his story, his gaze shifted to Jones. “I’ve told you everything I know. Am I free to go now?”
Mirabella gave Jones a subtle nod, and he promptly responded, “You have our word. You’re lucky to have dealt with our boss. She doesn’t play games; she says you get a new life, you’ll get it.”Blade looked over at Mirabella, this young woman with an aura that screamed leadership, then back to Jones, his face etched with weariness and a hint of sorrow. “You’re fortunate to have found a good leader, not everyone’s as lucky as you.”
After Blade left, Stinger remained in the basement, wailing like a banshee.
Jack couldn’t take the ear-piercing, soul-tearing cries anymore, especially as Stinger knelt on the floor, clutching the photographs, pounding the ground for what seemed like an eternity.
“Look, I get that this truth is a tough pill to swallow, but this ain’t the way to handle it. Even if you punch a hole through the floor, it won’t bring your folks back. Dead is dead. Maybe you should start thinking about revenge instead.”
Jack was blunt. “My boss went to great lengths so you wouldn’t be left in the dark, spending both manpower and a pretty penny. We’re not doing this for kicks. We’ve helped you out; how about returning the favor? Spill what you know, will ya?”
“No rush,” Mirabella said calmly, her gaze on the distraught man on the floor. “You can tell us when you’re ready.”
She signaled for Jack to follow her out. He was confused – they were just going to leave Stinger like this? What if he did something drastic?
That evening.
Stinger’s emotions had settled, and he spoke up in a raspy voice, “I want to see your boss.””Why?” Mirabella asked coolly from the other side of the bars. A smirk played on Mirabella’s lips. It was indeed Serena!
The mention of Serena sent Stinger into a frenzy, his hands gripping the railing as if he could bend the bars with his bare rage. “Let me out! I’m gonna make her pay for what she did to my folks. An eye for an eye; I’m gonna get vengeance for my parents.”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.