I Let Them Kill My Sister

My sister was kidnapped, and the kidnappers demanded fifty million in ransom for her release.

The whole family was busy gathering the ransom, but I kept attending auctions, buying expensive jewelry.

Infuriated, the kidnappers demanded that I go alone to rescue her.

Not only did I not go, but I also held a press conference, announcing that I was expelling my sister from the Schmidtke family.

My sister was killed, and her mutilated body was dumped at our doorstep.

Everyone accused me of being selfish, prioritizing the companys inheritance over my sisters life, and pressured me to atone with my own death.

Instead of feeling any remorse, I deliberately overturned her ashes.

I wanted to see when the person who had been hiding behind the scenes all along would finally jump out.

"Mary, it is a disaster! Isabella was kidnapped while traveling abroad! The kidnappers just sent a message demanding fifty million dollars in ransom within three days. If we do not pay, they will kill her. You have to save your sister!"

My father barged into the boardroom, completely ignoring my assistant's frantic attempts to hold him back. He stood in front of the entire executive board and all the regional managers, trying to physically drag me out of my chair.

Compared to his absolute panic, I sat there with glacial calm.

"She went on vacation with her boyfriend," I replied, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "Isn't she just hiding to test how much we love her? She pulls these pathetic stunts all the time. If you aren't sick of it yet, I certainly am."

My utter indifference choked the words right out of his throat. It took him several seconds to recover.

"It is real this time! Isabella was actually taken! The kidnappers sent a video straight to my phone. Look at it if you don't believe me!"

He shoved his phone across the mahogany table, trying to force the screen into my line of sight.

"They said we have three days to get fifty million in cash, or she is dead. Mary, you have to save her!"

A dark, mocking chuckle escaped my lips. "The last time she was heartbroken, she faked her own disappearance. I had to wire her a million dollars just to get her to come home. I guess she got a taste for the theatrics. Now she wants fifty million?"

"If you want to play the hero, go find the money yourself. I am not her parent, and I am certainly not obligated to entertain her delusional games. Besides, I do not have that kind of liquid cash laying around."

Seeing that I was entirely prepared to wash my hands of the situation, his panic mutated into rage.

"Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?! This is fifty million dollars! Are you really going to sit there and let those monsters murder her?"

"You are her older sister! It is your duty to provide for her! And if you do not have the cash, sell your shares in the company! Schmidtke Enterprise is a massive empire. Liquidating a fraction of your equity would easily cover the ransom!"

I stared at him like he had lost his mind.

"Are you seriously suggesting I sell off my shares in this corporation to humor her psychotic little game?"

"Do you even realize what you are asking? I hold exactly fifty-one percent of this company. If I sell a single share of my foundational equity, I lose majority control! You want me to risk the entire Schmidtke legacy to pay a ransom? Is your brain rotting out of your skull?"

In my previous life, the moment he mentioned Isabella was kidnapped, I lost my mind with worry. I immediately suspended the board meeting and rushed home to help him liquidate assets.

After we scrambled to gather the funds, we hurried to the drop-off location.

Even though we arrived exactly on time, the kidnapper claimed we took too long and made him lose his patience. With a sick laugh, he tossed a hunting knife at my feet, ordering me to stab myself. If I refused, he would slit Isabella's throat.

Seeing my sister crying hysterically with blood dripping down her neck, I did not even hesitate. I picked up the blade and aimed it at my own abdomen.

My father had lunged forward, supposedly to stop me. But his hands "accidentally" slammed into my wrists, driving the blade directly into my heart. I died instantly on the dirty concrete floor.

When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting right back in this boardroom.

"Mary, do you have no soul?! She is the sister you grew up with! She is in mortal danger, and you are sitting there like a block of ice!"

Seeing that I remained entirely unmoved, he began screaming insults.

"If she has actually been kidnapped, the first thing you need to do is call the FBI. Let the authorities handle it. Do not come in here throwing a tantrum."

The phantom agony of that blade piercing my heart still burned in my memory. I impatiently waved my hand, signaling the security guards to drag him out.

Once he was forcibly removed, I offered a brief apology to the stunned executives. Suppressing the chaotic storm of emotions inside me, I forced myself to sit through the rest of the meeting.

The second the meeting concluded, I locked myself in my private office to analyze everything that had happened in my previous life.

After running through the events with no clear answers, I called my assistant, Rachel, into the room. Pretending I was talking about a "friend," I recounted the exact details of my past life's murder.

Her face contorted in thought, her eyes darting back and forth before she finally spoke.

"Boss, has it ever occurred to you that this sister might not actually be blood-related? What if this entire situation was a trap designed specifically to eliminate you?"

Spending too much time reading crime thrillers online had given Rachel a dangerously sharp intuition.

"Think about it. Why would a family's first reaction to a kidnapping be demanding ransom money instead of calling the police? And that final struggle with the knife... isn't it a little too convenient that his 'accidental' push resulted in a fatal strike to the heart?"

Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning. The fog completely cleared.

After a long silence, I looked up at her. "Drop everything regarding the upcoming IPO. I have a very specific investigation I need you to run."

Rachel left with her orders. I stayed in the office, continuing my work as if nothing had happened. After hours, I drove straight to my private luxury condo instead of returning to the family estate.

In this life, I completely completely washed my hands of the mess. My father was left running around like a headless chicken, desperately liquidating his own assets to scrape together the ransom.

Meanwhile, I quietly shadowed his movements. Every antique or property he sold off, I anonymously purchased back. I even started attending high-society charity galas, throwing obscene amounts of money at rare diamonds, vintage paintings, and poverty relief funds.

One evening, as I walked out of an exclusive auction house admiring a newly acquired emerald bracelet, a disheveled figure lunged out of the shadows, startled me.

Taking a closer look, I realized it was my father. He looked like a homeless beggar, his clothes wrinkled and his face covered in a thick layer of stubble from days of exhausting desperation.

"Mary, are you truly going to let your sister die at the hands of those butchers?"

"It is only fifty million! That is pocket change for you! Is money really more important than human life?"

"Did you forget the promise you made at your mother's grave? You swore you would protect your sister for the rest of your life!"

If I only had suspicions before, seeing his desperate, manipulative face confirmed it. There was a traitor in my inner circle.

"I already told you. I do not have that kind of liquid cash, and even if I did, I would never spend it to save her. Instead of ambushing me in the street, you should be figuring out how to pawn the rest of your watches."

"Let me make this perfectly clear. I would rather burn my fortune or donate it all to charity than give a single dime to a disaster like Isabella. Give it up."

A crowd of elite socialites was beginning to form. I had zero interest in being their evening entertainment. I signaled my driver to push him aside, stepped into my Bentley, and drove away.

Somehow, the events of that night reached the kidnappers.

Infuriated by my statement that I would rather give my money to charity than save Isabella, they began relentlessly bombarding my private phone with calls and texts. They demanded I bring the ransom to the drop-off location completely alone, or Isabella was dead.

Reading the text, I could not help but laugh out loud.

This was fifty million actual dollars, not Monopoly money. Fifty million dollars in cash weighs hundreds of pounds. It would look like a literal wall of paper. Did they expect me to carry a mountain of bills by myself like some kind of superhero?

I ignored the threat, powered down my phone, and opened the classified dossier Rachel had just sent me.

The day before the ransom deadline, my father, entirely unable to reach me, decided to go live on social media. He intended to publicly crucify me into paying.

On the screen, he covered his face, sobbing hysterically. "I do not know what kind of monster she has become. Her own sister is facing death, and she feels absolutely nothing."

"She knows our entire family is going bankrupt trying to save Isabella. Yet she is out attending luxury auctions, buying useless diamonds and paintings, and throwing millions at charities. She has an absolute fortune, but she refuses to save her own flesh and blood."

"What sin did I commit in my past life to raise a daughter so cold-blooded she would let her own family die?"

My father had always been a minor celebrity in the business world. Backed by paid internet trolls and manipulated algorithms, his livestream skyrocketed to the number one trending spot nationwide.

The internet was entirely consumed by the scandal.

"Heiress Isabella Schmidtke Kidnapped! Ransom Hits Fifty Million!"

"Older Sister Refuses to Pay Ransom While Buying Diamonds. The Decay of Human Morality!"

"Mary Schmidtke is a Cold-Blooded Sociopath."

"Schmidtke CEO Publicly Disowned by Grieving Father."

The outrage was absolute. Fueled by my father's manipulative tears, millions of netizens began boycotting Schmidtke Enterprise products.

Refusing to let my mother's company suffer, I logged into my verified corporate account and requested a live split-screen with his broadcast.

"Father," I started, my tone perfectly composed. "I have been working back-to-back night shifts preparing for the company's IPO, barely sleeping two hours a day. Imagine my surprise waking up to find you publicly dragging my name through the mud. What exactly do you gain by destroying the family business?"

"Isabella throws these little vanishing acts whenever she doesn't get her way. Every single time, I have to wire her millions before she miraculously reappears. Just the other day, you kicked down the boardroom doors, demanding I sell my controlling shares to pay a fifty-million-dollar ransom. How am I supposed to know if she is genuinely in danger, or if this is just another extortion scheme the two of you cooked up to drain my accounts?"

"This company is the legacy of my grandparents. It is the lifeblood of my late mother. I would rather die than sell my shares. I am sure Isabella, despite her rebellious nature, would agree with me and defend our family's empire with her life."

I did not offer any further explanations. I did not shed fake tears or play the victim. I simply disconnected from the livestream and immediately posted an official announcement on the corporate page. In exactly two hours, I would be holding a live press conference.

The venue was completely completely packed. Journalists from every major news outlet swarmed the room, shoving microphones into my face, demanding to know if Isabella was really kidnapped and if I was truly leaving her to die.

I tapped the microphone, instantly silencing the chaotic room. Then, I dropped a bombshell that sent shockwaves through the entire country.

"Acting as the absolute head of the Schmidtke family, I am officially announcing the immediate expulsion of Isabella from our lineage."

"My former sister, Isabella, has orchestrated over a dozen fake kidnappings and disappearances prior to this incident. Every single one ended with me wiring her massive sums of money just to make her stop."

"Those extortions ranged from hundreds of thousands to millions. This time, they escalated to demanding I sell the foundational equity of Schmidtke Enterprise to fund a fifty-million-dollar ransom."

"I do not know if her current predicament is real or just another theatrical performance. But I am exhausted. I have heard the boy cry wolf too many times, and I refuse to participate in these toxic, manipulative games any longer."

"Therefore, effective immediately, Isabella is stripped of the Schmidtke name. She is no longer an heiress, and she is permanently forbidden from using our family name to fund her lavish lifestyle or con investors. Moving forward, her survival is her own responsibility. Schmidtke Enterprise will no longer be her shield. Her life, or her death, has absolutely nothing to do with us."

The room erupted into total pandemonium.

Camera flashes strobed like lightning. Reporters screamed questions, desperate for more details.

I turned my back on them with sharp precision, leaving the chaos to Rachel and the public relations team.