Chapter 3My Family Thought My Daughter Was Dead, So They Tried to Kill Me

The shivering night finally passed.

But I was woken by a basin of cold, greasy slop thrown on me!

"Still sleeping? Mr. Hayes and Master Brandon are already up. Go prepare breakfast immediately."

I trembled, looking up. Mrs. Jenkins, the housekeeper, sneered. Seeing no reaction from me, she tried to kick me.

I grabbed her ankle. "I suggest you know your place."

As soon as the news of the plane crash broke last night, everyone assumed Vivian's chances of survival were practically zero.

Robert had incited the servants and security guards to obey him. Now, everyone dared to kick me while I was down!

The way self-interest turns people cold truly disheartens you.

Mrs. Jenkins scoffed, shaking her foot free.

"Still trying to pull the 'lady of the house' routine? Pfft! Our boss has changed. You're no longer the esteemed Mrs. Harper. Mr. Hayes said you're lower than us now in this house."

"Get up and cook!"

I forced myself to crawl out of the doghouse, enduring my aching back and the cold.

Mrs. Jenkins impatiently pushed me.

As I entered the house, I saw Serena emerge, wearing my custom-made silk pajamas.

She wrinkled her nose, clutching it with her hand. "It stinks! How can anyone eat the breakfast she makes?"

Robert walked out of Vivian's study, holding a gift box.

"Then she can go clean the toilets," he said, waving to Serena. "Serena, here's an emerald necklace. It'll look beautiful on you."

Serena swayed her hips over to him.

The two of them cozily draped the necklace around her neck, admiring it.

"That's the birthday gift Vivian bought for me at auction for eighty million dollars! You can't touch it!"

I tried to rush over but Mrs. Jenkins held me in a death grip.

She whispered in my ear, "Do you really think you're worthy to compete with the new missus?"

Robert feigned innocence, "Vivian? Where's Vivian? Eleanor, are you still clinging to that delusion? Your Vivian died long ago, didn't even leave a handful of ashes."

"Brandon is going to the company today to announce Vivian's death. After her memorial and the will is settled, we'll kick even you out!"

Both Robert and Brandon knew that Vivian's inheritance would surely be left to me.

That's why they hadn't kicked me out yesterday.

But I wondered what expressions these heartless monsters would make if they saw Vivian walk back in, safe and sound.

Just then, Brandon came downstairs, talking on his phone:

"Yes, tell the reporters the news is accurate. The Harper Group will hold a memorial service. Mrs. Harper?"

Brandon glanced at me, then deliberately choked up.

"My mother is overwhelmed by the news and has fallen ill. Everything will be handled by my father and me."

He and Robert exchanged glances, and Robert nodded in approval.

Then, Robert stormed towards me, his eyes hard.

"What are you doing?"

My heart lurched. I tried to dodge, but Mrs. Jenkins held me in a death grip.

Robert conjured a sickeningly sweet smile.

And then, he viciously kicked me in the stomach!

My sixty-year-old body crumpled to the ground, curling into a ball, sweat beading from the pain.

Robert bent down, looking at me like a dying ant:

"If you're sick, you should act sick. That's more convincing."

"Lock her up. No need for a doctor. It'll be perfect if she's unable to speak at the memorial service."