My Husband Cut My Brake Lines To Steal My $5m Inheritance. The Next Morning, His Sister Demanded To Borrow My Car. I Let Her Take It. Am I The Monster?

The entire hall was stunned. All eyes were on Olivia, some sympathetic, some mocking, but most suspicious. A grieving mother accusing her daughter-in-law of murder was too grave an accusation to ignore.

Olivia held her stinging cheek, tears streaming down not from physical pain but because she was playing the most important role of her life. She lifted her face, looking at Sharon with tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling with shame but clear. “Mom, why would you say such things? You’re slandering me. The car was brand new. I just bought it for $200,000. It was just serviced yesterday. How could it be broken?”

She paused, then turned to Ethan, who stood frozen like a wooden statue. Her gaze pierced his dark soul, forcing him to face reality. “Ethan himself told me to give the keys to Tiffany. I told him I wanted to use a different car, but Ethan insisted. Ethan, please say something. Explain to your mother. Otherwise, she’ll keep thinking I deliberately harmed your sister.”,

Olivia’s words were like a splash of cold water on Ethan’s face, snapping him out of his stupor. He saw the suspicious gazes shift from Olivia to him. He saw several police officers whispering to each other. He knew if he let Olivia speak further or let his mother continue making a scene, his terrible secret would be exposed right here.

Fear overcame reason. He rushed forward, grabbed his mother’s shoulders roughly, and dragged her back, his large hand clamping down tightly over her own mother’s mouth. “Mom, be quiet! Are you crazy? It’s a new car! How would we know it would break? Don’t talk nonsense! There are police here!”

Ethan roared, his voice choked with panic, his face contorted in a horrifying mask. His violent action toward his own mother in the middle of a funeral stunned everyone. Sharon, her mouth covered by her own son, stared with wide, desperate eyes, struggling futilely. She looked utterly pathetic.,

Olivia remained on the floor, tears staining her cheeks, but inside her heart felt a cold satisfaction.

The commotion in the funeral hall slowly subsided after Ethan ordered relatives to take Sharon to a rest area in the back. However, the atmosphere of suspicion and whispering did not disappear; it only grew thicker.

The mourners gathered, their gazes no longer on the deceased’s photo but stealing glances at Ethan, the man who now stood with his head bowed beside the coffin, his hands clenched so tight the veins bulged. His act of silencing his mother was a wordless confession of the abnormality and fear that consumed him.

Olivia was helped to a corner where she sat on a cold marble bench under an old tree. Some relatives from her husband’s side came to comfort her, showing sympathy for the unjust slap from her mother-in-law, but Olivia just nodded briefly and asked for some time alone to calm down.,

When everyone had left, Olivia slowly took out a phone with a burner SIM card she had prepared from her coat pocket. The screen lit up in the dark corner, reflecting a bitter smile on her face. It was time to launch the next psychological punishment—an attack that would sever the final bond between that mother and son.

Olivia opened her gallery, selecting the ultrasound photo she had secretly copied from a file on Ethan’s computer weeks ago. It was the ultrasound of Maya, his mistress. It clearly stated: “Male fetus, 12 weeks gestation.”

He had hidden this so carefully, treating that illegitimate child like a treasure while being capable of such cruelty to his own wife. Olivia attached the photo to a message and sent it to Sharon’s phone number. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, typing each sharp word: “Look closely, Sharon. Your son needed the money to raise his firstborn son, so your daughter had to be sacrificed. $5 million in exchange for two lives. Your son is very good at math.”,

Pressing send, Olivia saw the message deliver. Her heart felt a sense of relief but also a deep bitterness. She put the phone away, looking up at the gray sky, imagining Sharon’s reaction upon receiving this message.

She was a mother who blindly adored her son her whole life. She had hoped for a grandson to carry on the family name, but now, knowing that grandson was bought with the life of her own daughter and her unborn granddaughter, would she be happy or completely shattered?

Inside the hall, the funeral music resumed, but to Olivia, it sounded like the drums of war. Olivia adjusted the white band on her head, wiped her tears, stood up, and walked slowly toward the rest area where Sharon was. She wanted to see with her own eyes as the cruel truth destroyed her mother-in-law’s final blind faith in her precious son.

In the family rest area, Sharon lay limply on a sofa, one hand on her chest, her breathing shallow. Her old wrinkled face was a mask of extreme suffering. A few female relatives surrounded her, massaging her, fanning her, and offering words of comfort.,

She lay still, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, silent tears streaming from the corners of her eyes onto the pillow. Just then, the phone in her dress pocket vibrated—a single sharp buzz in the quiet room. Sharon weakly reached for her old phone, squinting her aged eyes to read the message.

Olivia hid behind the slightly ajar door, holding her breath, observing every change in her face. At first, confusion as she saw the unfamiliar ultrasound image. She moved the phone away, then brought it closer, trying to read every line carefully. And when she read the message below it, her pupils constricted.

Her hand began to tremble violently as if she had been electrocuted. Firstborn son. Money. Sacrifice. The words danced before her eyes, connecting all the strange events of the past.

She remembered how Ethan had been complaining about company finances lately. Remembered her son’s anxious look every time he took a strange phone call. Remembered Ethan’s over-the-top enthusiasm when he urged his wife to give the car to his sister. And above all, she remembered the ultrasound film in Tiffany’s burnt purse.,

Two children. One dead with its mother at the bottom of a ravine. The other growing in another woman’s womb, nurtured with the blood and flesh of her own daughter. Bastard.

Sharon leaped from the sofa as if spring-loaded. Her phone fell to the floor, the battery popping out. She clutched her head, screaming in agony like a wounded animal, startling everyone in the room. She understood everything. The son she adored, the son she had always praised as a filial and smart boy, was a demon. For money, for a successor from a mistress, he had sacrificed his own sister.

Olivia saw the total devastation in Sharon’s eyes. The strongest fortress of belief in her life had crumbled to dust. She was no longer crying. Her eyes were empty but held a terrifying resentment. She stared into space, her mouth muttering silent curses.,

Olivia slowly backed away from the door, her heart pounded with a mixture of exhilaration and satisfaction. The seed of suspicion she had planted had now grown into a poisonous tree, its roots now firmly embedded in the seemingly unbreakable bond of blood.

Outside, Ethan was still busy greeting guests, playing his part as a grieving brother. He had no idea that in that small room, the mother who had always defended him unconditionally had now become his most dangerous enemy. He was standing on the edge of a cliff without realizing it, and it would only take one more gust of wind to send him plummeting, shattered like Olivia’s expensive SUV.

Tiffany’s funeral ended in chaos and rumor. The mourners went home shaking their heads, leaving the funeral home shrouded in an eerie silence. Ethan didn’t stay home to grieve for a single second. The moment the last guest left, he sped away in his car as if chased by ghosts, heading straight for his office.