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Hired by the Father I Hate Novel Cover

Hired by the Father I Hate

Ten years of silence end when a young man faces his billionaire father, Edgar Booker, across a corporate boardroom table. Despite the tension of their reunion, Edgar offers his estranged son a position at his prestigious company. However, the job offer is met with a cold rejection as the protagonist tears up the contract in front of HR manager Jesse Dorsey. Haunted by the past, he refuses to work for the man he believes is a cold-blooded murderer.
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Chapter 4

Also missing was the savings passbook that had been hidden at the bottom of the cabinet.

By the time Grandma and I arrived at the city hall, Edgar and Dawn had just walked out. The marriage certificate in their hands was blindingly white.

Grandma stood in front of them and said in a trembling voice, "Give me back the passbook!"

Dawn furrowed her brows and cast a displeased look at Edgar.

Edgar hurried forward and took Grandma's hand.

"Mom, whatever you have to say, let's go home and talk about it," he said in a hushed tone.

Grandma pulled away from him, her eyes reddening.

"Edgar, if you're foolish enough to marry into her family, I won't stop you. But you can't steal from me! That's the death benefit from when your father died!"

Grandma's voice rang out clearly through the entire hall. In an instant, all eyes turned toward them.

Edgar lowered his voice to almost a pleading whisper. "Mom, Dawn's brother, Stuart Fuller, needs the money right now to start his business. Once his project takes off, we'll pay you back with interest, okay?"

"So what if her brother needs money? She's no daughter-in-law of mine. If you don't hand back that passbook right now, don't even think about leaving!"

The hall was bustling with people coming and going. Countless pairs of eyes fell upon us.

I watched helplessly as the light in Edgar's eyes dimmed little by little, until it finally turned into a coldness I had never seen before.

He stopped pleading and silently fixed his gaze on me. When the sharp knife pressed against my neck, I saw the panicked look on Grandma's face.

"Move aside!" Edgar roared, his voice so loud that it nearly pierced my eardrums.

I called out "Daddy" in a trembling voice, but he snapped hoarsely as if he'd been stung. "Don't call me 'Daddy!'"

Grandma watched all of this, barely able to breathe.

"Edgar, that is your own son!"

Edgar trembled and cried out, "This is all your fault! You're the one who drove me to this!"

He accidentally grazed my chin with the knife, and warm blood trickled down my neck.

In the last second before I passed out, I saw Grandma's legs finally give way, and she collapsed heavily onto the ground.

When I woke up, I found myself lying in my own bed.

Grandma's eyes were vacant as she held my hand, her back slumped.

I couldn't make a single sound, but the words "Don't call me Daddy" kept echoing in my mind.

I held onto Grandma's hand as tears silently streamed down my face.

Later, I heard that Edgar and Dawn were going to hold their wedding ceremony on an island abroad.

On the day they departed, my grandfather Terrance Booker's grave was dug up. The excavator bore the name of Dawn's company, gleaming impossibly bright.

It smashed the coffin apart, and Grandpa's ashes were thrown to the wind.

Grandma wailed and wept, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. In the end, she crumpled to the ground and blacked out.

I called Edgar.

"Grandma has fallen ill, and the hospital requires a family member to sign off on the emergency treatment. Come back now!"

From the other end of the line came airport announcements, along with the cheerful voices of Dawn's relatives offering their congratulations.

After what felt like forever, Edgar let out an icy laugh and said, "How convenient of your grandma to get sick right before my plane takes off. I'm telling you, she just can't stand me and is dead set on ruining my wedding!"

"No, that's not it! It's because the construction crew dug up Grandpa's—"

"Enough! She's spent her entire life alone since her husband died, and that's why she can't stand to see me happy. Claude, if you keep siding with your grandma and making trouble, I'm through with you."

With that, he hung up abruptly.

The doctor came over and silently shook his head at me.

"We've already missed the critical window for resuscitation."

The memories stretched on too long. When I came back to myself, night had already fallen.

I tossed away the orange peel in my hand and started walking home.

But halfway there, I saw that familiar Maybach.

Edgar got out of the car and came striding over, his face tight with urgency. He grabbed my hand, his eyes reddening.

"Claude, why are they saying your grandma's dead?" he asked in disbelief.

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