Frozen Betrayal

Ten years of marriage. For Arthur, I gave up my architectural blueprints and bled myself dry for this family.

I thought that was love.

But when I pushed open the front door, clutching a diagnosis of terminal heart failure, I saw my husband and my parents raising their glasses to toast my younger sister, Mia. They used legal documents to strip away the very last of my surgery funds. Enduring the tearing agony in my chest, I begged them to spare my life for the sake of our blood ties.

It wasn't until that trust agreement was slammed into my face that I finally understood: to these cannibalistic monsters, my life meant less than a single cough from Mia.

And the deadliest blade is always thrust by your own flesh and blood.

Chapter 1

Outside the villa, I clutched the hospital report so tightly my fingertips turned white. With a heavy push, I forced the living room door open.

"Cheers!"

The crisp clink of wine glasses and joyful congratulations pierced my ears like needles.

My wonderful husband, Arthur, dressed in a flawless suit, was intimately pouring champagne for Mia. My parents sat on the sofa, watching them with beaming smiles. What a harmonious family they made.

I endured the dull ache in my chest. Leaning against the wall with every step to catch my breath, I called out softly, "Arthur!"

Arthur turned and saw me, making no effort to hide the disgust on his face.

"Sign it." He tossed a document right at my feet.

Stunned, I looked down at the name printed on the paper. My voice trembled. "What is this?"

"I've drafted this trust agreement. Once you sign it, our joint accounts and the beneficiary of this house will all be transferred under Mia's name." Arthur took a sip of his champagne, his tone as casual as if he were discussing dinner.

My nails dug painfully deep into my palms. I stared at the man I had loved for ten years. "You're giving her all our joint property?"

"Sister, don't blame Arthur." Mia's eyes instantly reddened as she smoothly shrank behind Arthur. "The doctor said my depression can be treated at a top-tier facility, and the opportunity is so precious! Arthur just wants me to feel secure before I go..."

"That is my marital asset!" I glared at her fragile, innocent face. It was her signature trick.

My mother immediately stood up, pointing her finger right at my nose. "Chloe, do you have any conscience left as an older sister? Mia is so sick! What is a house and some savings compared to that? Arthur provides for you. You lack nothing, so what are you fighting for?"

"He provides for me?" I let out a cold laugh. Ever since I became a stay-at-home mom, every penny I spent depended entirely on his mood. He even limited the grocery budget to a mere ten dollars a day. Night after night, I had to take on private drafting gigs just to cover the shortfall.

I took a deep breath and held out the medical report to Arthur. "I really need the money. The doctor said I have heart failure. If I don't prepare for surgery immediately, I won't live past two months."

The entire living room fell dead silent for a second.

Then, Arthur scoffed. He snatched the report from my hand, tore it to shreds without even a single glance, and threw the pieces onto the floor. He even ground them under the tip of his leather shoe.

"Chloe, have you stooped so low to buy fake medical records just to compete with Mia for attention?" Arthur stared down at me, his eyes brimming with sheer disgust. "This pathetic trick you use to beg for money makes me sick."

"I'm not lying!" My voice cracked. "That was a stamped notice from the state hospital!"

"Enough!" My father slammed his hand hard onto the coffee table, staring at me with deep disappointment. "Your sister is ill, yet you fake a sickness just to steal her chance at treatment. How did we raise such a cold-blooded, selfish daughter!"

I looked around in utter shock at these people—my father, my mother, my sister, and even my husband.

Suddenly, a violent, twisting cramp erupted in my chest. Gasping for air, I collapsed onto my knees.

"Stop acting." Arthur cast a callous glance at my pale face and urged again, "Even if you die, you aren't going to delay your sister! I'm giving you one minute. Sign it. I need to take Mia to fit her dress for the charity gala. I don't have time to waste on you."

He shot one last cold look at the document on the floor, seemingly certain I would eventually cave. "When I get back, I don't want to see this still sitting here."

Without giving me another glance, he turned and walked away. My parents gently huddled around Mia, escorting her out the door.

I clutched my agonizing chest, curled up on the rug in too much pain to form a complete sentence. Just then, a tiny figure squatted down in front of me.

It was my seven-year-old son, Leo.

Struggling, I reached out a trembling hand and pointed at the telephone nearby. "Leo, help Mommy... call an ambulance..."

Leo looked down. Instead of crying in panic, he slapped my fingers away entirely.

"Mommy Mia is right." Leo looked at me with an arrogant, disdainful glare. His childish voice drove into my heart like a dagger, inflicting a pain far more severe than the agonizing grip of heart failure.

"Mommy is just a lying pauper. If I call an ambulance for you, it will definitely ruin Daddy and Mia's night."

Immediately after, Leo slammed the front door shut. I was left completely alone on the dark, freezing floor.

Just then, a wave of pain far worse than before tore through me, and my body began to convulse helplessly. I frantically patted my clothes to reach for my phone, but my fingers grasped nothing but empty air.

My phone was gone.