“Tell Your Mom to Apologize”, My Billionaire Dad Ordered, Unaware She Died 3 Years Ago Chapter 08
Dad’s face twisted with disgust and disappointment.
“The divorce papers are being drawn up.”
“You killed Lauren. You had Annie’s leg broken. I’ve already filed charges.”
“You’ll never see the outside of a prison cell.”
Sierra’s face went blank with despair. “No!”
“Connor. You can’t do this to me.”
“I just had them beat up. You’re the one who threw them out.”
“And now you want to act like the wounded husband?”
Dad’s fists clenched. Veins bulged on his forehead.
“Security. Get her out of here.”
As they dragged Sierra away, she kept screaming curses.
She looked like any other trashy street fighter. Not the pampered princess she used to be.
When Dad sent me the video, I glanced at it for two seconds and tossed the tablet aside.
“Leave. I need to rest.”
I closed my eyes and stopped looking at him.
He stood by my bed for a long time. Like he wanted to say something. Then he left without a
word.
The hospital door pushed open again. I opened my eyes, annoyed.
“I told you to go away-”
I stopped. Stared into eyes full of crazy, poison rage.
Sierra Vance lunged at me with a knife.
“You little bitch. This is all your fault. You and your mother.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Go to hell.”
Before the blade could reach me, Dad ran in and tackled her.
“Don’t you touch Annie!”
Nurses screamed. Someone called the police.
By the time the cops arrived, Dad’s chest had been stabbed through. He’d stopped breathing,
He took the blade so I didn’t have a scratch.
Sierra got death row. Multiple counts of first-degree murder and assault.
Dad’s lawyer came to me with the will. He’d left me every share. Every asset. Everything.
I barely looked at it. Sold it all.
The bank account had more zeros than I could count. I owned an estate with a mansion. A staff
of butlers and assistants.
I got a prosthetic leg. Fully automatic. It could read the nerve endings and predict my next
move.
When I wore pants, you couldn’t even tell I was disabled.
I moved Mom to the estate. Gave her own space in the house, pictures, flowers, everything. So I could see her every day.
I hired tutors. Studied at home for a year. Got into a good university.
When the butler drove me to campus that first day, the sun was perfect.
My eighteenth birthday had stopped the day Mom died, three years ago.
Three years later, I finally got the birthday I was supposed to have.
My nineteenth.
