Hearing My Husband’s Secret Thoughts, and Let Karma Find Him Chapter 09
All the lights in the venue dimmed at once.
The wraparound screen behind me blazed to life.
The first image that appeared was a patent.
certificate.
Beside the owner’s name was my ID photo.
“Didn’t you keep saying I transferred the
company’s core technology?”
I looked down at him.
“Then let every media outlet in the world see this
clearly.”
“All of Apex Group’s multi–billion–dollar foundational algorithms and Al patents were
developed by me under an alias.”
“I have the right to revoke authorization at any
time. Without me, Apex is worth less than an
empty shell.”
The moment I said that, the entire venue broke
into an uproar.
All the people online who had been cursing me fell
silent.
Immediately after, the screen changed.
High–definition security footage from the hospital
hallway appeared.
The timestamp showed the night my father had supposedly just been resuscitated.
In the video, Ryan was hiding by the stairwell,
stuffing a stack of cash into a caregiver’s hands.
His voice came through the speakers and filled the
venue.
“Take this $75,000. Find a chance to kink that old
bastard’s ventilator tube.”
“Make sure it looks like a medical accident.”
“Once he dies, the company is mine. I won’t forget to reward you.”
The screen split again. Beside the footage appeared a video from last night of my father
doing his physical therapy exercises at the recovery clinic.
“As for me stopping my father’s treatment?”
I scoffed.
“That was because I had already found out you
were trying to hire someone to murder him, so I transferred him to a top private recovery clinic ahead of time.”
“Ryan, hiring someone to murder your father–in–law
is a serious felony.”
Ryan’s face turned deathly pale. His knees
buckled, and he dropped to the floor.
“No… this isn’t real. It’s Al–generated. You’re
framing me!”
He raised his hand and pointed at the screen as he
shouted.
“The police will determine whether it’s
Al–generated.”
I pressed a key on the podium.
“Round two. This one is for you and your so–called
devotion.”
The screen changed again.
Hundreds of hotel records and high–definition hidden–camera bedroom shots flooded the
display.
Then came a video of Summer’s confession in the
police interrogation room.
In the video, Summer kept wiping her tears.
“It was Ryan Lawson. He ordered all of it.”
“He told me to steal Ms. Sullivan’s pink diamond
and sell it for operating cash.”
“The tens of millions in corporate funds he
transferred are all in his hidden offshore account.
The password is…”
Immediately after that, the real loan documents
for the $700 million overseas loan–shark debt and
the forensic signature verification report filled the
massive screen.
“From beginning to end, you were the one who borrowed from loan sharks to cover the hole you had dug.”
“You were the one who cheated, kept a mistress,
and plotted to marry into an heiress’s family, bleed
it dry, and kill for it.”
I walked down the steps and stopped in front of
the trembling Ryan.
Then I spoke loudly.
“Ryan, where did you get the fucking nerve to act
devoted in front of tens of millions of people?”
The entire venue went completely silent.
Then the livestream comments doubled and
flooded upward.
[Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. That plot twist just
blew my mind!]
[This man is so fucking disgusting. I actually
spoke up for him earlier. I’m going to slap myself
twice.]
[He hired someone to kill his father–in–law, stole
his wife’s necklace, and dumped loan–shark debt
on her. He’s an animal. Execute him. He deserves
the death penalty.]
[Queen. I’m bowing down. This is the revenge heroine we deserved. Bury that scumbag.]
All the online outrage turned on Ryan.
Reporters at the scene rushed forward with microphones and surrounded him, throwing question after question at him.
My aunt, who had been pushing the wheelchair beside him, stumbled back in fear.
She had finally realized that the man she had sold
all her assets to bail out was a murderer.
“You… you lied to me! My houses! My shares!”
My aunt lunged at Ryan and clawed at his face
with both hands.
Ryan’s mother cried loudly from the wheelchair.
Several police cars pulled up outside the venue.
“Ryan, you are suspected of attempted
premeditated murder, major fraud, and violating
the terms of your bail.”
“You are under arrest.”
The police rushed into the crowd and pinned Ryan, whose face was covered in bloody scratches, to the ground.
They also took my aunt away on suspicion of aiding and abetting fraud.
As Ryan was dragged out, he turned back to look
at me.
His eyes were red, and his entire body kept
shaking.
He finally understood that from beginning to end, the person who had been played was him.
