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The Disgraced Teacher's Ruthless Return Novel Cover

The Disgraced Teacher's Ruthless Return

Ten years ago, Cameron Vinson destroyed my Wall Street career to build his empire, leaving me a disgraced schoolteacher. Now, he was back, paying for my father' s life-saving surgery to play the benevolent hero. But his fiancée, jealous of his attention, decided to reveal the truth to my father on his deathbed, killing him instantly with the shock. "Emilia, look what you've done! You're hysterical!" Cameron shouted, shoving me away from my father's cooling body while comforting the woman who had just murdered him. Hailee had shown my father a video proving we were both framed, just to watch the light leave his eyes. Yet, Cameron stood there protecting her, gaslighting me into believing I was the crazy one. They thought I was still the helpless victim they could manipulate. They thought my father' s death was just another loose end tied up. But as the heart monitor flatlined, my phone buzzed with a message from a ghost of our shared past. "I have enough evidence to bury Cameron Vinson. Do you need help?" I looked at the monsters preening over my father's corpse. I wiped my tears and typed back a single word: "Yes." The time for grief was over. The time for a hostile takeover had begun.
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Chapter 7

Emilia POV:

I walked back to the hospital in a daze, the city lights blurring through my unshed tears. Cameron' s callous dismissal, his utter lack of remorse, had ripped open old wounds and carved new ones. He was a monster, neatly packaged in a tailored suit.

As I approached Gilbert' s wing, I saw Cameron in the corridor, a whirlwind of frantic phone calls and hushed conversations with his security detail. He didn' t even glance my way. I walked past him, my gaze fixed ahead, towards my father' s room.

But as I drew closer, I heard it-a woman' s muffled sobs from within Gilbert' s room. Hailee. What was she doing here?

Anger flared, momentarily eclipsing my despair. I pushed open the door, prepared to confront her.

The scene inside froze me in place.

Hailee was kneeling beside Gilbert's bed, her perfectly coiffed head bowed, her shoulders shaking with what appeared to be remorse. Gilbert, propped up on pillows, his face ashen, was staring at a phone clutched in his hand. His eyes were wide with horror, his lips trembling, unable to form words. The rhythmic beep of his heart monitor was accelerating, a frantic, desperate pulse.

"Oh, Emilia," Hailee whimpered, looking up at me, her eyes brimming with crocodile tears. "I just... I had to tell him. It was eating me up inside. The truth." She gave a little sniffle. "He deserved to know."

My eyes darted to Gilbert. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. He pointed a trembling finger at the phone. I snatched it from his grasp.

A video was playing. A grainy, ten-year-old recording.

Younger Cameron, impeccably dressed even then, was speaking to a sleek, younger Hailee. "Yes, Gilbert Hardin. He's a stickler for rules. He'll find the irregularities in the merger. We need him out of the way. And Emilia... she's inconvenient. Framing her, implicating him... that kills two birds with one stone. Your father gets his merger, and I get a clean slate."

Hailee' s younger self, giggling, wrapped her arms around him. "And then, my love, we can finally be together, without any obstacles."

"Exactly," Cameron replied, his eyes cold, devoid of the warmth he once showed me. "Our future, Hailee."

The video ended.

My father' s hand clutched at his chest, his eyes wide, fixed on me. A single tear traced a path through the wrinkles on his cheek. The heart monitor flatlined, a long, piercing shriek that tore through the sudden silence.

Gilbert's eyes glazed over, losing their light. His hand, still reaching for me, fell limp.

He was gone.

No.

My world shattered. My father. My gentle, honorable father. Killed. By their lies. By their cruelty.

Hailee rose to her feet, her sobs gone, replaced by a malicious smirk. "Well," she said, her voice chillingly calm, "that takes care of a loose end, doesn't it? Cameron won't have to worry about his 'guilt' anymore. And his past won't be tainted by... that." She giggled, a sound of pure evil. "It was my idea, you know. The anonymous tip to frame Gilbert. Cameron worried too much about hurting you. But I knew his future, our future, depended on it. He loved me enough to do it."

Something snapped inside me. My vision tunneled, a red haze descending. I launched myself at her, my hands finding her throat, my fingers closing around her delicate neck. "You killed him!" I screamed, my voice raw, unrecognizable. "You killed my father!"

Just as my grip tightened, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me backward. Cameron. He had returned, drawn by the flatline. He shoved me violently. I stumbled, hitting my head on the bedside table. A sharp pain bloomed, and blood trickled down my temple.

"Hailee! Are you alright?" Cameron cried, rushing to her side, his arm protectively around her. He glared at me, his eyes blazing with fury. "Emilia, have you lost your mind? She was just trying to help!"

Hailee, clutching her throat dramatically, dissolved into fresh, theatrical sobs. "She tried to kill me, Cameron! She's hysterical!"

Cameron turned back to me, his face a mask of disgust. "Look what you've done, Emilia! First the drama, now this. Are you completely insane?"

I stared at them, the loving couple, framed against the backdrop of my dead father. Madness. It was a madness he had created, cultivated, nurtured.

A broken, tearless laugh bubbled up from my chest. It grew, hollow and desolate, echoing in the sterile room. "Yes," I rasped, the words tearing through my throat, "I am insane. You made me insane. Both of you."

Just then, my phone, which had fallen to the floor when Cameron shoved me, buzzed. A text message. An unknown number.

I have been looking for you for ten years, Emilia. We have a common enemy. I have enough evidence to bury Cameron Vinson and everyone associated with him. Do you need help?

My eyes fixed on the message, then darted to Cameron, then to Hailee, their faces contorted with self-righteous anger. My laughter died. A cold, steel resolve settled over me, chilling me to the bone. Help? Oh, yes. I very much needed help.

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