"His leg's a lost cause, right? Transfer the house fast, or that spoiled brat of his will snatch it away."
"Don't you worry, he's crippled now. Once the transfer's done, I'll divorce him. Our son's been born, and no one will ever find out."
"Henry's finished. His assets are yours, and now they're mine. The company's bankrupt - he's got nothing left. Good thing he broke his leg; otherwise, I might have had to do it myself."

"Exactly. It's like fate is on our side. All those years of groveling were worth it."
Henry, enraged beyond belief, grabbed a vase and smashed it over Simon's head.
Simon retaliated, cracking a glass over Henry's.
Both men were bleeding profusely. Olivia screamed, dialing 911, and then she collapsed in pain. All three of them ended up in the hospital.
Ethan, in a state of utter panic, asked me, "If Dad dies, what happens to the house? Can I get it?"
I couldn't help but laugh at his tear - streaked face.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the doctor finally emerged, urging us to have a last visit with Henry.
Ethan rushed in, begging Henry to transfer the house to him.
Henry opened his eyes and saw me standing at the door.
He whispered weakly, "Grace... I'm sorry. My wish... the house... goes to you."

And with that, he closed his eyes forever.
Ethan stood there, stunned into silence.
It was an unexpected turn of events, yet somehow fitting.
I had been by Henry's side from the very start of his company, through all the ups and downs until it reached stability. Only now did he seem to see my sincerity, a sincerity that had been lost on him for so long.
He died alone, unloved.
Ethan, eager as ever, said, "Mom, what's yours is mine, right?"
Looking at Henry's lifeless body and recalling Ethan's cold - hearted expression as I lay dying in my previous life, I felt a strange numbness.
Was this really the son I had raised for 18 years?
I gazed off into the distance and said, "Most of your dad's wealth is in Olivia's name."
A glint of ruthlessness flashed in Ethan's eyes.
He left without saying another word.
Exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep.
The police woke me up.
Olivia, still in shock after the incident, had gone into premature labor. The baby, deprived of oxygen, was stillborn.
Devastated, she was resting at home. Ethan, lurking in the shadows, attacked her, demanding that she transfer her wealth to him while holding a knife.
Olivia, furious, refused. In the ensuing struggle, Ethan stabbed her in the heart.
Panicked, he fled the scene.
Olivia bled out and couldn't be saved.
Ethan was arrested and sentenced to 15 years in prison for murder.
Simon received a 10 - year sentence for assault.
With Grant's help, the assets that Olivia had illegally transferred were recovered, and the money was used to pay the workers' overdue wages.
I sold Henry's house and gave the proceeds to the unpaid suppliers.
The last time I saw Ethan, he was gaunt, his eyes murky, muttering to himself, "Parents owe their kids forever. What's wrong with wanting a good life?"
I told him I was moving south and urged him to reform himself.
Outside, the sunlight glowed warmly.
I recalled a book I had read with Ethan when he was a child:
Wild horses, clouds of dust, the very breath of life intertwined.
Do penguins soaring high above see the same sky as we do when we gaze up?
I smiled, feeling a sense of relief.
Though I was no longer young, my future was just beginning.