The True Legacy

"Bearer bonds?" Wallace's breathing quickened in an instant.

"The thing is…" I paused and sighed, as if disappointed. "Those bonds have a three-year lock-in period. You can't cash them until they mature. And you know how my dad was—he was super particular about tradition. Before he died, he said his grave couldn't be touched unless a direct family member stayed there for three years to honor him. Otherwise, it would bring bad luck."

Wallace's eyes gleamed with excitement.

Honor the man for three years, and he'd get a fortune beyond imagination.

He looked at me as if I were the world's biggest fool. I was sitting on a mountain of gold, only to hand it away with my own two hands.

I lowered my eyes and said softly to Wallace, "I'm about to marry Ms. Davidson. Who knows what'll happen to me once I'm there?"

My tone grew heavy. "That money won't be safe with me. We're brothers, so…think of it as my gift to you."

The wariness in his eyes disappeared completely, replaced by pure, burning greed.

"Don't worry, Marshall," he said, patting my shoulder in a show of fake affection. "I'll take good care of that money for you. And when you join the Davidsons… You'll need to learn to be patient."

That very afternoon, Wallace packed his bags and headed for the countryside, saying he was going to watch over my father's grave.

Olivia and Conrad didn't really get it, but they couldn't change his mind, so they let him go. After all, in their eyes, what could possibly be valuable about some old grave in the middle of nowhere?

I stood by the upstairs window, watching Wallace's car disappear down the road, and a faint smile curved on my lips.

There was something inside that safe—but it wasn't some priceless set of bonds.

It was my real birth certificate and the evidence my father had left behind to prove Olivia's financial crimes.

In my last life, I had almost gotten my hands on them. But before I could, they forced me to marry Abby, and my plan for revenge fell apart.

This time, I'd let that fool guard the evidence for me.

Once I dealt with Abby, I'd bring everything to light.

A week later, Abby and I got our marriage certificate, and the Davidsons sent a car to bring me to her mansion.

The housekeeper opened the car door and gestured for me to come in, her expression completely blank.

"Ms. Davidson is waiting for you upstairs in her study."

I nodded and followed behind her.

The first time I had come here, my palms were sweating, and I'd been careful with every step I took. But now, walking through that familiar hallway, my heart was calm.

The study door opened, and there she was—Abby.

She wore a perfectly tailored long dress and sat in a wheelchair, a soft cashmere blanket covering her lap.

Sunlight poured through the tall windows, but it couldn't reach the chill in her eyes.

"So, you're Olivia's son?" she asked flatly, her voice sharp and controlled.

"Yes," I answered evenly.

She finally looked directly at me, her gaze full of contempt.

"Don't think I don't know you're just a substitute," she said. "I actually thought she'd send me her precious darling instead."

I stayed silent, simply watching her.

Her weakness and her injuries were all fake.

In my past life, I had fallen for her act. I thought she was a poor, broken woman. I tried to treat her gently, thinking kindness could melt her coldness.

What I got in return was humiliation, worse than anything I'd imagined.

"Get out," she said impatiently, waving her hand. "I don't want to see you. You're an eyesore."

That was our wedding night.

Exactly like before.

But this time, I didn't panic. I didn't even look away from her cold stare.

Outside the door, the housekeeper and a few maids stood watching from a distance, their eyes filled with quiet sympathy.