Chapter 3

I took a deep breath, stepped forward, and said coldly,

"Every single dollar you spend right now was left by my father."

"That inheritance included a trust fund for Ethan and me. I’m only asking for $300,000 of our own money. What right do you have to refuse?"

Ever since we were kids, Victoria hadn’t spent even $30,000 on us, let alone $300,000. Ethan and I often had to drink tap water at school because we had no lunch money.

Guilt flashed in Victoria’s eyes for a split second, but she quickly masked it with rage.

"What nonsense are you talking about, you worthless brat?!"

"You just want money to save your useless brother's legs, right? Fine. See these bottles of tequila on the table? Drink them. Ten thousand dollars a bottle. Let’s see how much you can handle."

I stared at the rows of high-proof alcohol on the table, my heart turning ice-cold.

Victoria had frozen Ethan’s and my accounts. But in her ignorance, she had also accidentally frozen Julian’s secondary card, leaving her own son with no money to pay for his emergency surgery.

The crowd around us began to cheer and laugh, eager to watch the humiliation.

I thought of Julian. Although he was born on the same day as us and used to play cruel pranks on Ethan and me, he wasn’t entirely evil. In high school, he had secretly stolen money from Victoria to buy us food when we were starving.

Besides, amputation was a major surgery. Without proper post-op care, infection could kill him.

My heart softened. I grabbed a bottle of tequila, tilted my head, and chugged it.

Cheers erupted around me. Through the haze, I saw Victoria smirking triumphantly.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket.

I quickly answered it. Ethan’s panicked voice came through the speaker.

"Chloe! The hospital says the ICU fees are too high. If we don’t pay the deposit in an hour, they’re going to kick Julian out!"

My heart squeezed. Before I could speak, Victoria snatched the phone from my hand and hung up.

"What are you doing?!" I yelled, glaring at her. "He’ll die if they kick him out of the hospital!"

"Good," Victoria sneered, her voice high and mocking.

"In two days, it’s my son’s and your brother's eighteenth birthday gala. The board will announce the heir of the Miller Group. I’d love to see how your crippled brother is going to compete with my Julian."

I stared at her, horrified by her sheer stupidity.

"But Victoria," I said, my voice deadpan and serious, "the one who got amputated isn't Ethan. It’s Julian. Your own son."