Chapter 4
Over the next two weeks, the pressure built from every direction.
My younger sister, Clara, came to visit, but her face was guarded.
“People are talking,” she said quietly. “Even some of our relatives think you are being unreasonable. Helen has been calling them, telling them you are wasting the family fortune.”
I sat down, tired.
“Do you believe her?”
Clara hesitated.
“I don’t know what to believe. But Father says we have to trust you. It’s just hard when everyone is saying different things.”
It was exactly what Helen wanted — to divide us.
If she could turn my own family against me, I would have no support left.
Meanwhile, in business circles, the attacks shifted.
Rumors began circulating that Father’s company was facing financial trouble.
Suppliers started asking for advance payments.
Some long-time partners delayed their contracts.
“They are trying to shake our foundation,” Father explained at one of our meetings. “They want us to look weak so that when we make our move on Langford Group, no one will back us.”
“But how do we stop rumors?” I asked.
“We don’t stop them,” he said. “We replace them with facts. And while they are busy spreading lies, we are quietly buying up shares of Langford from smaller investors who are scared of its debts.”
It was a slow, careful process.
Every purchase was made through shell companies, so no one could trace it back to us.
But Helen was sharp.
She noticed the activity.
One evening, I received a package delivered to the front gate.
Inside was a single piece of paper — a copy of one of the share transfer records, redacted but clear enough to show someone was buying in.
Written across it in red ink: I know what you are doing. You will regret it.
I showed it to Father.
He smiled grimly.
“Good,” he said. “Let her know we are moving. Let her feel the pressure too. She will make mistakes when she is scared.”
Two days later, the first court hearing took place.
Daniel and Helen sat across from me, looking composed and confident.
Their lawyer spoke loudly, painting me as unstable and irresponsible.
But when it was our turn, our lawyer placed the first evidence on the record — the medical report showing my injuries, dated the night Father rescued me.
The room went quiet.
Daniel’s face lost color.
Helen squeezed her purse so hard her knuckles turned white.
The judge paused and looked at them.
“We will adjourn for now. But these documents raise serious questions. Both sides will provide further evidence before the next session.”
As we left the courtroom, Helen walked past me and leaned in close.
“You think a few bruises will change everything?” she whispered. “I have more tricks up my sleeve than you can imagine. And before this trial ends, you will wish you had never crossed me.”
She walked away, head held high.
May you like
But as I watched her go, I noticed something — her hand was shaking.
She was putting on a brave face, but deep down, she knew the ground beneath her was starting to crack.
