The Rebirth of a Scorned Heiress

William stared at the computer screen, with his hands clenched to stop them from trembling. Ever since the first message he received from the hacking incident, he has been getting messages similar to that every week.

And each time, the message gets even more detailed than the last.

He let out a frustrated groan, unable to take his eyes off the picture on the screen. That picture sent him right back to that day.

The supposed family dinner that triggered the beginning of his misery.

It was a picture of Victoria’s dying moment. The blood stains and the poison. All are vividly captured and turned into a painting on the canvas.

At this point, it was no longer a guess about whether or not someone else knew about the incident. It is a confirmed fact that someone out there knows something.

How much did they know was still up for debate?

‘Was it necessary?’ That was the note attached to the picture.

And the question he had been asking himself as of late.

Was it necessary?

Was it worth it?

In the end, they got what they wanted, but at what cost?

His sanity?

His freedom?

Their happiness?

Was it really worth it?

They had lived better when the mother and daughter were alive. They had everything they wanted, including access to surplus funds.

They were happy-all before they had the power.

He let out a mirthless laugh and relaxed into the chair with his hand covering his face.

“Even in death, you won’t allow me to rest, is that it?” He chuckled darkly.

As he removed his hands from his face, his eyes turned an ugly shade of red, with a sinister grin plastered on his face.

“There’s no room. I’ll make sure I trample you to the end. You won’t have the final laugh!”

A knock on the door cut off his descent into insanity, and Colton walked into his office carrying a gift bag.

“I purchased the new model of Nex that was just released,” he reported.

William raised a brow in question, trying to figure out how that was any of his business.

“What should I do with that information?” He asked coldly.

Colton faltered under the intimidating glare directed at him. He pursed his lips and massaged his nose bridge in exasperation.

Somehow, his boss has gotten even worse mentally and physically in the past few days, which was bothersome considering they had lots of work to do at this point.

“After signing away the copyright, you asked me to purchase one when it’s finally released,” he explained calmly.

William’s frown deepened, and he gave a nod. “Alright, you can leave it here; I’ll have it checked later,” he replied.

“Did you put the tail on Bryan Roux like I asked you to?” He asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“And what has he been up to?”

“In the past week, he’s only met with the young lady who won the national fashion competition. Both of them will be having a collaboration for the fall Halloween costume party,” Colton reported.

“And?”

“Well, he has not been up to anything, apart from making the preparations for his branch that would be opening soon.” He explained, and William nodded.

“You can go. Keep an eye on him and report everything back to me,” he instructed, dismissing the other.

As Colton walked out of the office, William picked up the Nex phone to examine it.

‘Nothing much had changed on the putter’s appearance,’ he noted before powering it up.

He scrolled through the settings and the phone information, and the more he dug, the more his expression became cold.

After several months of trying, he was finally able to crack the first part of the code left by the deceased Victoria.

Just from the first part, he could already tell that the software used for the newly improved device was very much like the one left behind by Victoria.

However, this one was more advanced.

Like it had been revised and upgraded.

His hold on the phone tightened until the screen cracked. Several thoughts flashed through his mind.

Unable to process everything at once, he jolted up and drove to the cemetery.

The place he found himself coming to more often than he would like to admit.

As he was about to pick up the flowers, he remembered what Bryan had told him about picking up orchids or carnations and decided to go with his recommendation.

As he stood between the graves of the mother and daughter, he lit a stick of cigarettes and puffed out the smoke.

“I have questions; even if I ask them, I won’t be getting a reply, will I?” He muttered as he squatted.

His eyes trailed the words written on the gravestone while he processed all his thoughts.

“You are in a better place than I am right now, aren’t you?” He draws out. “Laughing while watching me suffering in misery,”

“I had no say in Mabel’s death. It was all my father’s plans, but if only you had been cooperative and not trying to outshine me in every way, we wouldn’t have to kill you,” he said as his eyes stayed on Victoria’s grave.Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

“You pretended as if you were not interested in the company, while every achievement the company made is always tied back to you and your team of lowlife nerds,” he laughed.

“The more you shine, the more on edge you make your father feel with the fact that your mother’s lawyer disappeared after she died. He could already tell Mabel didn’t leave anything for him.”

“He got desperate, resulting in your death.” He breathed out.

“Do you know? I was never interested in taking over the company. I just wanted to spend the money you made, while being respected as a rich young master.”

“And now, because you just won’t sit still, I’m forced to take over a job I hate. Something that would constantly remind me that I can never match up to you,” she sneered and stood up.

“Are you laughing?”

“Mocking me?”

“Well, it does not matter. I’m not here for redemption. Since I started on this path already, I’ll descend deep into hell and make it my home,” he declared with a sinister grin.

“If you can, I’m sure you can’t. After all, you are already a cold corpse. But if you can, protect every member of your team because I’m going to hunt those fuckers down until I get what I want.” He turned to leave after placing the flowers on the graves.

“Mark my words.”