She Chose Love I Took Billions

My billionaire father-in-law was hanging by a thread after a horrific car crash.

On his deathbed, to prevent a post-mortem bloodbath for control of his empire, he drafted a final mandate in front of the city's top attorneys and press: whichever daughter reached his bedside first would inherit the entire multi-billion-dollar Prescott legacy.

My sister-in-law, Isabel, was supposedly stuck on another continent. Vera, my wife and the eldest, was a mere ten-minute drive from the hospital.

It should have been an effortless victory. A multi-billion-dollar empire handed to her on a silver platter.

But I called her until my fingers went numb, and she just turned her phone off.

All because Christianher "one that got away"was having a bad day, and she had promised to ride the Ferris wheel with him to watch a private fireworks display from the highest cabin.

In my past life, I had lost my mind with panic. Id stormed the amusement park with bodyguards, physically dragging her to her fathers deathbed.

She dropped to her knees just as her father drew his last breath, successfully securing her position as the head of the empire.

But Christian caught a mild fever from being left alone in the chilly autumn air. He threw a tantrum, accused her of abandoning him, and threatened to cut her out of his life forever.

Vera was devastated. Once she secured total control of the company, she had me bound, weighted with heavy stones, and thrown into the freezing depths of the Atlantic.

"If it weren't for a money-grubbing parasite like you ruining everything, Christian would never have gotten sick. The inheritance was always going to be mine. You just had to meddle."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the hospital corridor, the family attorney frantically urging me to call my wife.

I looked down at my phone. On her private Instagram story, shed just posted a photo of the fireworks: "Even if the sky fell, I'd still watch the stars with my prince."

I double-tapped to leave a like.

Then, with a calm heart, I opened my chat with Isabel: "Isabel, let's make a deal."

"Logan, what are you doing? Call Vera!"

Beside me, Mr. Albright, the family's lead counsel, was practically vibrating with anxiety. "The Chairman has made it clear. Whoever walks through that door first inherits Prescott Enterprises. It's a ten-minute drive. If she leaves now, she wins."

I swallowed the bitter, metallic taste of memory, forcing down the phantom sensation of cold ocean water filling my lungs.

In front of the room packed with lawyers and doctors, I dialed Vera's number.

It rang and rang. The hollow tone stretched on until Albright's forehead was slick with sweat.

Finally, she picked up. The deafening, rhythmic boom-boom of fireworks exploded through the receiver.

"Logan, I told you to stop calling," Vera snapped, her voice dripping with venomous impatience. "Christian is having a panic attack today. I am not leaving him."

I kept my voice flat, empty of the desperation that used to define me. "Your father had a catastrophic accident. He's in the ICU."

Before I could even mention the will, a soft, pathetic cough echoed in the background.

"Vera... are you going to leave me again?"

Christian's fragile voice drifted over the line. "Logan, I'm really not feeling well today. Vera is just keeping me company. Is it necessary to invent such a sick lie? Do I need to beg you on my knees to let her stay?"

Vera's voice shifted instantly, turning into a cooing, maternal murmur. "Don't worry, Christian. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

Then, turning back to the phone, her voice hardened into ice. "Do you hear him? He's already fragile, and you're deliberately trying to trigger him. Are you trying to kill him, Logan? Is that what you want?"

Albright's veins were bulging in his neck. He snatched the phone from my hand. "Mrs. Campbell, this is Albright. Your husband isn't lying. Charles had a severe head injury in a pileup. He is at Metro Central right now. You have thirty minutes. He has structured his will so that"

"Oh, please, Mr. Albright," a mocking, high-pitched chuckle interrupted him.

It was Amber Fletcher, Vera's personal assistant and Christian's sister.

"Logan, you really outdid yourself today," Amber sneered. "Hiring a voice actor to play the family lawyer? Too bad you made one critical mistake. My best friend is on duty in the ER at Metro Central tonight. She says its completely quiet. Youre just jealous of my brother, so youre putting on this pathetic little drama to drag Vera away."

Vera took the phone back, her disgust palpable. "Logan, using my dying father as a prop for your pathetic jealousy is a new low. You make me sick."

The line went dead.

Albright stared at the phone, completely stunned. "How... how can she be this blind?"

Before he could finish, the heavy ICU doors burst open.

"You useless piece of trash!"

Lydia, my mother-in-law, stormed in, her eyes red-rimmed and feral. She raised her hand to slap me across the face.

Having anticipated this, I took a step back. Lydia's momentum carried her forward; her hand cut through empty air, and she stumbled over a waiting chair, letting out a sharp cry as she hit the floor.

Ignoring the pain, she scrambled up, pointing a trembling finger at my nose. "Where is Vera? Where is she!"

"I knew you were a useless husband, but this? If Vera doesn't get here, if that multi-billion-dollar estate goes to her, I will skin you alive!"

Behind her was a small army of her sycophantic relativespeople who had spent years riding her coattails, feeding off the Prescott scraps. They swarmed the small corridor, their breath hot and angry.

"You're a disgrace," one of her uncles spat. "Can't even control your own wife. If she loses this inheritance, we'll make sure you pay for it."

I watched them panic, entirely unmoved. I knew exactly why they were terrified.

Lydia wasn't the legitimate dowager. She had started as Charles's mistress, getting pregnant with Vera while Charles's first wife was still alive. To force her way into the family, Lydia had shown up at the estate when the first wife was in her third trimester, flaunting her infant daughter and spewing venomous threats. The shock had sent the first wife into premature labor. She bled out on the operating table.

Isabel, the second daughter, had been born motherless. Naturally, Lydia and Vera had spent the next two decades treating Isabel like an unwanted weed. They abused her, humiliated her, and eventually shipped her off to Europe under the guise of "education" to keep her far away from the family business.

Though Charles let Lydia live in his mansion, he never officially married her. He knew she lacked class. If Charles died today without Vera securing the inheritance, Lydia would be cast out with absolutely nothing.

"Are you deaf?" Lydia shrieked, grabbing my arm. "Call her assistant! Tell them to get Vera here right now!"

I didn't argue. I dialed Amber's number again, putting it on speaker.

It picked up instantly, the sound of laughing and booming fireworks filling the sterile hallway. "Logan, are you seriously still calling?" Amber sighed, her tone dripping with condescension. "Can't you give a woman some space? Do you have to cling to Vera like a wet band-aid? Let me tell you somethingif you were my husband, I would have thrown you out years ago. A man's job is to stay in the background and support his woman. Stop trying to control her."

Her sheer audacity made the relatives gasp. But I remained calm, slowing my words down for maximum clarity. "Amber, believe what you want, but Charles is on life support. He just drafted a mandate. Whoever gets to his bedside firstVera or Isabelinherits everything."

The line went silent.

Lydia lunged at the phone, crying out in desperate hope, "It's true! It's true, Amber! Please, tell Vera to come back! I am begging you, there are billions at stake!"

A slow, mocking laugh erupted from the speaker. Amber sounded like shed just heard the funniest joke of the century.

"Oh my god... Logan, you really don't know when to quit, do you? I already told you I exposed your little scam. Did you seriously pay these extra actors to cry on cue?"

She let out a smug hum. "Let me make this clear: Vera said that even if the President himself showed up tonight, nobody is allowed to ruin her date with my brother. Your little guilt trip is pathetic. If you have any dignity left, pack your bags. Vera is filing for divorce tomorrow. Shes only ever loved my brother, and Im going to be the sister-in-law of Prescott Enterprises. You? Get ready to beg on the streets, you loser."

She hung up.

Lydia's face drained of color, turning a horrifying, chalky white.

I let my eyes well up with fake, helpless tears, playing the part of the wounded husband to perfection, while inside, my heart was a block of solid ice.

I had been married to Vera for three years. To protect her position in the company, I had worked eighty-hour weeks, fixing her disastrous business decisions and quietly covering up her astronomical blunders.

And how did she thank me? She raided the company treasury to buy Christian private islands and superyachts.

When I confronted her, she had the nerve to say: "Logan, you have the title of my husband. Christian has nothing. Why shouldn't I spend a little money to make him happy?"

Even Lydia had shrugged it off: "All rich women have their fun. As long as she comes home to you, why do you care who she keeps on the side?"

They truly believed their love was sacred, untouchable.

Fine. If love was all she needed, she didn't need the money.

A flurry of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Several key board members who had backed Vera rushed into the room, breathless and panicked.

"Where is Vera? Why isn't she here?!" the lead shareholder demanded, his collar soaked in sweat.

Lydia pointed a trembling finger at me. "It's him! Logan is useless! He couldn't even get his own wife to come back!"

The shareholder lost his temper, grabbing a thick folder of medical documents and slamming it against my chest. "Logan, what the hell is wrong with you? We risked our entire careers backing Vera! If she misses this mandate, everything we built goes down the drain because of your utter incompetence!"

Before I could answer, the heart monitor began to beep frantically.

The attending physician sighed, looking at his watch. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Chairman has twenty minutes left at most. If you have a way to get her here, do it now."

Twenty minutes.

If Vera just checked her social media, she would see the chaos. The amusement park was only ten minutes away. She could still make it.

Lydias hands shook as she dialed again. "Vera, please... answer your mother..."

At the amusement park, the sky was ablaze with gold and crimson light. The Ferris wheel slowly rotated toward its peak.

In the narrow cabin, Christian clung to Vera, pointing out the glass window.

"The ringing is giving me a headache, Vera," he whispered, looking up at her with big, watery eyes. "Turn your phone off. Or better yet, throw it into the lake."

He leaned against her shoulder, projecting an aura of fragile vulnerability. "For these next thirteen minutes, I want to be the only thing in your universe. Can you do that for me?"

Vera hesitated for a fraction of a second. Logan's warning flashed through her mind. But as she looked at Christians wind-flushed cheeks and his desperate, adoring gaze, her doubts evaporated.

It's just another one of Logan's desperate ploys for my attention, she thought. My father is perfectly healthy. He isn't going to just die.

"Anything for my prince," she murmured, a soft, doting smile spreading across her face. Without another thought, she tossed both of their phones out the cabin window, watching them plunge into the deep artificial lake below.

"The number you have dialed is currently unavailable..."

Lydia had called twenty times, and each time, she was met with the cold, automated voicemail.

Her sister-in-law tried to comfort her. "Lydia, don't panic. Even if Vera doesn't make it, Isabel is still in London. A flight from Heathrow takes at least eight hours. There's no physical way she can get here in twenty minutes."

Lydia let out a shaky breath, letting herself relax slightly.

Just then, a breathless manager burst into the room. "Mrs. Prescott! Board members! Someone just spotted the second daughter, Isabel. Shes in a town car heading this way. Shell be here in fifteen minutes."

The news hit the room like a physical blow.

"No!" Lydias face went entirely bloodless. "Shes supposed to be in Europe! How is she here?!"

In the midst of the screaming and shouting, I stood quietly in the corner, a slow, cold satisfaction blooming in my chest.

Isabel had actually returned to the country weeks ago for a research seminar in a neighboring city. In my past life, Lydia had deliberately intercepted the news of Charles's accident to keep Isabel in the dark until it was too late.

But this morning, the second I opened my eyes in this timeline, I had texted Isabel directly.

"The park! We have to go to the park!" Lydia lost her mind. She lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair. "You useless parasite, you're coming with me! We are dragging Vera back here!"

A sharp, burning pain flared across my scalp, but I didn't resist. I let her drag me out to the car.

Lydia and her relatives piled out of the car at the amusement park entrance, charging toward the gates like feral animals.

But their path was blocked by a dozen burly security guards in black suits.

Standing at the front of the line, looking incredibly smug, was Amber.

"Are you blind?" Amber sneered, crossing her arms. "Vera booked the entire park tonight. Not even a fly gets in."

Lydia, entirely unhinged, grabbed Amber by the collar. "I am Vera's mother! Let me in! Tell her that little snake Isabel is about to steal her inheritance!"

Amber shoved Lydia back with force.

Lydia, wobbling on her stilettos, lost her footing and fell hard onto the concrete, letting out a sharp cry of pain.

"Look, lady, you're committed to the bit, I'll give you that," Amber said, looking down at her with pure disgust. "First Logan plays the lawyer, now you show up pretending to cry? You two will really do anything to ruin Vera's date, won't you?"

"Vera's orders were clear: even if her biological mother shows up, she waits outside."

Lydia screamed, ordering her relatives to force their way in. They charged the guards, but within seconds, they were beaten back, bruised and bloodied, howling in pain.

Desperate, Lydias pride shattered entirely. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, throwing herself at Ambers feet, begging and sobbing.

"I beg you! Please let me call her! If we're too late, everything is gone!"

I leaned against the hood of the car, watching the pathetic circus unfold. For the first time in years, a genuine smile touched my lips.

At Metro Central, the hallway was swarming with reporters. Live cameras were pointed directly at the ICU doors, broadcasting the drama to millions online.

The green line on the heart monitor grew flatter and flatter.

Suddenly, a heavy silence fell over the corridor.

A slender, sharp figure stepped through the hospital doors, her stride long and confident.

The moment her foot crossed the threshold of the ICU, the monitor behind the glass gave a single, continuous, high-pitched flatline.

Mr. Albright took a deep breath. Facing the cameras, his voice rang out with absolute solemnity:

"In accordance with the late Charles Prescott's final mandate, Isabel Prescott was the first to arrive. Effective immediately, Isabel Prescott is designated as the sole heir to the Prescott estate."

Outside the amusement park gates, the broadcast on my phone echoed through the damp night air. Hearing the announcement, Lydias eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a dead faint onto the cold concrete.

At that exact moment, I looked up.

The Ferris wheel had finally completed its final rotation.

Under the fading embers of the fireworks, Vera walked out of the cabin, hand-in-hand with Christian, their faces glowing with a serene, untouchable happiness.