Chapter 15
With Lucius’s assurance, Mr. Moretti felt confident leaving with the Claymores.
Only the Moretti family remained in the living room.
Lucius settled into the head chair, his gaze sweeping over the three people still kneeling on the floor. His tone was eerily calm.
“Heyar, you’ve always been good with words. So speak for your family–tell us what really happened.”
Facing the family head who terrified every staff in the house, Heyar’s heart pounded with fear.
But she knew this was her only shot with so many witnesses present.
She wiped her tears and, still on her knees, laid out the whole story from start to finish.
When she finished, the Moretti relatives–plus the bodyguards and staff lingering by the door–all
looked completely done with the situation.
Seriously? It’s 2025. They’re getting fired, not executed. They can find other jobs. Why the dramatic
meltdown?
Lucius alone remained stone–faced throughout.
He gestured to his older brother and sister–in–law. “Get everyone on staff in here. Now.”
Once the household staff assembled, he addressed them directly. “I want your honest opinion about
letting the Sanchez family go.”
That opened the floodgates. The previously silent group suddenly couldn’t wait to speak up,
“Mrs. Moretti did the right thing! Heyar’s been acting like she owns this place just because Ronan
likes her. She takes Mrs. Moretti’s jewelry and clothes, then threatens us to keep quiet. If anyone asks, we’re supposed to say Ronan took it or broke it!”
“Thank God they’re getting fired! Heyar’s mom won’t shut up about how her daughter’s gonna marry rich someday. She dumps all her work on us while she sits around doing nothing!”
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Chapter 15
“Her dad’s just as bad–always stealing gifts meant for the family. When he gets caught, he claims Ronan said it was okay. Happens all the time!”
The Sanchez family’s faces went pale as the accusations poured in.
Even Ronan, who’d been panicking about their situation, started looking uncomfortable.
The other family members either glared with righteous anger or watched with cold disgust. Not one person showed a bit of sympathy.
Isabella sipped her coffee, observing from the sidelines with icy detachment.
This scene had happened in her past life too.
But back then, she’d never had a wedding ceremony, and Lucius was overseas.
Ronan hadn’t brought her for the family gathering when the Sanchez family crashed it.
The elderly Mr.Moretti had fallen for their tears and publicly chewed out Ronan’s parents.
His parents had apologized then, but within weeks they’d found another excuse to fire the family
anyway.
They’d also demanded compensation, forcing the Sanchezes into crushing debt.
With nowhere else to turn, they’d married Heyar off to one of their creditors. When her husband died three years later, that’s when Isabella’s world had truly fallen apart.
This time around, she’d changed her groom, and the entire story had shifted.
Same scenario, but with Lucius in charge–she knew everything would be different.
And she was right.
After Ronan’s parents finished explaining their side publicly, Lucius delivered his verdict.
“Well, everyone heard the testimony. The evidence should be at their place.” He turned to his brother and sister–in–law. “Given what we know now, I think you should file theft charges. Recover what they stole and get compensation. Sound good?”
That hit like a lightning bolt.
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Chapter 15
Ronan’s parents immediately reached for their phones to call 911.
Knowing exactly how much their stolen and damaged goods were worth–a fortune–Heyar’s parents completely lost it, banging their heads on the floor as they begged for mercy.
Having been publicly humiliated, Ronan’s parents showed zero mercy.
As sirens wailed in the distance, Heyar crawled over to Ronan on her knees, sobbing hysterically.
But after witnessing everything, Ronan felt nothing but disgust.
The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her–gone.
“Look, this is how it is now. Going forward, we-”
The words died in his throat.
He stared in horror as Heyar’s father bolted to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and slashed his own
throat.
“Dad!”
Before Heyar’s screams even stopped, her mother followed suit in complete despair.
“Mom!”
Blood splattered across the white marble floor.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
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