Chapter 3

I first met Veronica's boyfriend two years ago. I had spent tens of thousands to secure her a spot at school, but she spent her days at internet cafes with a boy named Bryson.

When the teacher called me to the school, I saw them holding hands, declaring, "We're in true love, and no one can tear us apart," they said in unison.

I tried to step in, but Veronica threatened to kill herself, forcing me to let her keep seeing Bryson.

A few months later, the school informed me that Veronica had been expelled for skipping classes.

I slapped her in public, hoping to snap her back to reality.

But she shoved me away, yelling, "You don't deserve to be my mom," said Veronica, before running off with Bryson.

The third time I saw Bryson was in my previous life, just before I fell from the building.

He was the one who pushed me, and he helped Veronica erase all traces from the house.

Now, seeing this punk again, I didn't resent him for stealing my daughter. I hated them both from the core of my being, eager to watch them crash and burn.

Bryson grinned and placed a gift box on the table, saying, "Hello, just a little something from me."

I knew he was impatient.

After all, they had already put a deposit on a car.

They were just waiting for me to cover the rest.

"If you're here to talk about your relationship, that's your business. I don't care," I said, looking at Veronica, who clung to Bryson's side.

"But if you're after money, you won't get a cent, even if I'm dead," I added.

"Mom, how could you think that? I'm your daughter!" said Veronica, trying to hook her arm around mine, but I shook her off.

Her tone turned sharp. "Bryson's here because he loves me. Don't act like you're all that," said Veronica.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Just stop coming to my house and bothering me," I replied.

Veronica dropped her facade, glaring at me with venom. "Grandma was right. You're a curse. You got my dad killed, and now you want to ruin me too? You talk a big game, but you won't give me a dime."

I had deliberately worn my most expensive jade ring and bracelet that day.

While Bryson and Veronica whispered their plans, I slipped the jewelry into her bag, then tossed it out the door along with their gift box. "Get lost," I said.

I heard them cursing as they left.

As soon as they were out of the neighborhood, I called the police.

When the officers arrived, I told them, "My jewelry, worth millions, was stolen. I suspect it was my daughter's boyfriend."

I remembered a year ago when Bryson was arrested for stealing a motorcycle. Veronica had sobbed outside our house, begging me to bail him out.

I was soft-hearted then, spending a fortune to clear his record.

The same way I got him out back then, I'd make sure he went back in now.