Her Death in My Bed

Marcus's wife died in my bed.

To atone for my sins, my wife Russell divorced me and married Marcus instead.

My company and all my shares were seized by Marcus.

And I was sent to a mental institution by my family.

Years later, my family drove to pick me up.

Russell carefully draped a coat over my shoulders, looking at me with heartache.

"Alex, it's all in the past now."

My sister Mary comforted me too:

"We're still family from now on."

But I couldn't hear what they were saying, couldn't respond.

The daily electric shock treatments at the mental institution had left me with tinnitus.

And back then, to fabricate evidence, they'd shattered my jaw. I could barely speak clearly anymore.

Now, no one knows that Marcus is the real murderer.

I slowly raised my hand and wiped the filthy blood from my eyes.

I didn't make a scene or even look at them. I just turned and walked toward the edge of the crowd.

"Alex?" Mary's voice called from behind me. "Where are you going?"

Russell quickly stepped forward to block my path, her brow furrowed.

"Alex, we're here to take you home. Don't throw a tantrum."

I stopped and finally looked up at them.

"Home? Which home? Mary, didn't you already give all my assets and shares to Marcus? Do I even have a home anymore?"

Mary's face instantly stiffened.

Looking at Russell, who was still gripping my hand, I continued:

"Oh, I forgot to mentioncongratulations to you and Marcus. Next time you get married, there's no need to sneak around. You two had your affair right in front of me, so why bother caring what anyone thinks about a wedding?"

"Alex!" Russell's expression darkened. "Do you have to talk like this?"

Mary exploded in anger, reaching out to grab me.

"Alex, what kind of attitude is this! We've done so much for you, and this is how you repay us?"

During the scuffle, a woman charged over and tried to slap me:

"You bastard! How dare you treat Marcus's sister and wife like this! I'll beat you to death!"

Turned out she was one of Marcus's fans.

Russell and Mary held back the crazed fan.

Russell frowned at me, saying helplessly:

"Alex, look at yourself. Do you have to escalate things like this? Can't you just talk civilly?"

Talk civilly?

I looked at them and found it laughable.

"I'm escalating things? What did I do wrong from start to finish? He's the murderer! You favored him, threw me into a mental institution without asking questions, and destroyed my life! And now you expect me to forgive you murderers?"

"Shut up!" Mary hissed. "Marcus is so kind-hearted, and you're still slandering him!"

"You were clearly jealous of him, which is why you killed his wife Vivian. We only sent you to the mental institution for treatment instead of prisonthat was the greatest mercy we could show you!"

Russell sighed.

"Alex, calm down. I know you feel wronged. But my marrying Marcus was really just a temporary measure."

"He developed severe depression after Vivian's death. I stayed by his side to take care of him, to atone for your sins!"

"Once his illness is completely cured, I'll remarry you, and then we'll never be apart again for the rest of our lives!"

Slap!

I used every ounce of strength I had and struck her hard across the face.

Russell's head snapped to the side, red finger marks rapidly appearing on her cheek.

She froze, seeming completely unprepared for me to hit her.

After all, I used to treasure her like she was made of glass.

I'd never been willing to hurt a single hair on her head.

Mary was stunned too.

"Alex, have you lost your mind!"

I clenched my fists.

"Start over?"

"Russell, you disgust me."

"Go live your whole life with Marcus. You cheating scum deserve each other! I want no part of it!"

Mary's face turned iron-gray with rage, pointing her finger at my nose.

"Alex, I'm giving you one last chance. Right now. Immediately. Kneel down! Apologize to Russell and Marcus! Otherwise, I won't acknowledge you as my brother anymore! Let's see how you survive in Detroit then!"

At that moment, a low-key luxury van quietly pulled up at the edge of the crowd. The door opened.

Marcus stepped out gracefully. Cheers erupted from the scene.

"Mary, Russell, don't talk to Alex like that."

When Russell and Mary saw him, they both rushed over.

"Marcus, why did you get out of the car? It's chaotic here, get back inside quickly!" Mary said urgently.

"That's right, you're a huge star now. It's dirty and messy herewhat if you get hurt?" Russell stretched out her hand to shield him, not letting anyone get close.

The careful way they protected him stung my eyes.

There was a time when I was protected like that, without hesitation.

When I was cornered by some older bullies in the equipment room,

Mary had grabbed a mop from the corner and charged at themone against threeshielding me behind her back.

"Don't be afraid. I've got you."

Russell had quietly dealt with all the trouble, even using her family's connections to bankrupt the other family's business and force them to move away. Her father had used family punishment on her, leaving whip scars across her back, but she never mentioned a word of it to me.

The clearer the memories, the more the present reality felt like an absurd nightmare.

Seeing no one paying attention to me,

the fan from before joined forces with several others and suddenly rushed at me, grabbing my hair and slamming me hard to the ground.

"Rip his face off!"

"Murderer, I'm ridding society of evil!"

"He deserves it! Beat him to death! People like this don't deserve to live!"

Five years was enough to teach me how to take a beating.

I instinctively curled up, protecting the back of my head and my heart.

My vision blurred as everything shook. In the corner of my eye, Russell was looking down and saying something to Marcus, her profile showing a gentleness I'd never seen before.

Mary was frowning, glancing toward me with disgust.

Marcus seemed to have just noticed the violence happening here. He cried out:

"Stop!"

He held back several fans and reached out to help me up.

"Alex, are you okay?"

But he squeezed my fractured wrist hard.

I groaned in pain.

He jerked his hand back as if startled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to help you up."

Mary lifted her foot and kicked hard at my side.

I rolled half a turn across the ground from the force, my vision going black.

"How long are you going to keep hurting Marcus?"

She crouched down and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

"Act! Keep acting! Marcus barely touched you and you look like you're dying."

"Are you trying to pull the same trick again? Just like when you stole credit for saving me all those years ago, using this victim act to frame him and destroy the reputation and career he worked so hard for?"

"Let me tell you, AlexMarcus is kind-hearted and worries about these baseless rumors, but I won't!"

My scalp felt like it was being torn apart.

"If you dare use those despicable tactics on Marcus again, that mental institution held you for five years, but it can hold you for life! You better remember that clearly!"

"Enough!"

Russell grabbed Mary's wrist.

"Alex is still your brother, after all."

"Brother? Does he deserve that title?"

My sister violently shook off Russell's hand.

"From the moment he abandoned me in that ravine to save himself, running away without looking back, Mary's only brother has been Marcus."

Russell looked at the agitated Mary,

then glanced at me, curled up on the ground, nearly unconscious. Finally, she sighed.

She took off her coat, covered me with it, then turned and walked toward Marcus.

"I'll take Marcus to the hospital first for a checkup. His face is a bit palehe might be in shock."

Marcus immediately leaned against her, his voice weak.

"Russell, I'm so scared."

"I'll take you to the hospital right away."

Russell carefully supported him.

From start to finish, she never looked back at me once.

Mary shot me a disgusted glance and gave orders to the assistant and bodyguards still on scene:

"Clean this place up. Don't let these random people get near Marcus's car again."

With that, she quickly followed Russell, protecting them as they left.

"See, nobody wants him after all."

The fan from earlier crouched down and patted my swollen face.

"Weren't you pretty tough just now? Go ahead and kill me too, murderer!"

Another girl crouched down and violently tore off the coat covering me.

"You don't deserve to wear such nice clothes!"

"Strip his clothes offscum like him doesn't deserve to wear clothes!"

Someone shrieked the suggestion, immediately drawing excited agreement from others.

My whole body was in agony. I could barely move, could only watch helplessly as several hands roughly tore at my already tattered hospital gown.

I tried to struggle, my voice hoarse and weak.

But I was slapped hard across the face.

The fan pinched my face.

"Marcus is kind and won't hold it against you, but we're not so forgiving!"

"From now on, every word you say, I'll slap you once."

They dragged me to a relatively secluded corner nearby,

then pulled clubs and knives from their bags.

"We're doing this for justice!"

My desperate struggles only earned me merciless beatings.

A bodyguard nearby, unable to bear watching, picked up his phone to call Mary.

"Alex is being targeted by Marcus's fans right now. What should we"

"You're reporting such a trivial matter to me?"

Mary impatiently cut him off.

"Didn't I tell you just to keep random people away from Marcus's car? What do other people have to do with me?"

Then Russell's tense voice came through the phone:

"Why are you wasting time on irrelevant people? Marcus's heart rate is a bit fastgo find a doctor now."

Some rustling sounds came through, then Russell's clear voice:

"Keep the scene under control. Don't let things get too out of hand, and definitely don't let anyone photograph anything that could hurt Marcus."

"As for the rest, as long as he doesn't die, it's fine."

The call was abruptly disconnected.

The fans heard the conversation and laughed loudly.

"Hear that? As long as he doesn't die."

"What are we afraid of? With Mary backing us up, we can have as much fun as we want!"

They exchanged glances, their mocking laughter becoming even more piercing.

The crowd gradually dispersed.

No one called an ambulance for me.

No one helped me up.

I was thrown here like trash.

I braced myself against the ground, gritting my teeth, sitting up bit by bit.

The last traces of affection in my heart vanished completely.

Then I pulled out my phone and sent a text to a number I knew by heart:

[I agree to the cooperation. Name your price. I just want them dead!]