He Made Me Cry, Then Killed Our Daughter

"Isn't this exactly what you wanted to see?" "I'm miserable now. The tears won't stop. Are you happy?" "You're a psychopath! A monster! I wish you'd never loved me." I wished I'd never loved him either. In the war between the Delgado brothers over their inheritance, I was nothing more than a spy Roger had planted at his younger brother's side. My job was to help Roger get the evidence he needed to destroy his brother completely. I'd only meant to take the money and do the job. So I endured Douglas's obsessive behavior, again and again. But during our marriage, his feelings ran hot. Blazing, even. He'd flirt with other women just to watch me cry, then come crawling back afterward with the most tender apologies imaginable. Aside from his sick fixation, he treated me like a princess. The center of his world. He called it love. And I believed him. After our daughter was born, I even started thinking we could build a real life together. But now he'd used our child's life to kill every last shred of that hope. Douglas Delgado was a lunatic through and through, and I would never forgive him again. He hovered beside me, wiping my tears with clumsy, helpless hands. It was the first time Douglas had ever truly faced my pain. Instead of treating my anguish as some twisted form of foreplay. And it had cost my daughter's life to get here. "Letty, I was wrong. I just wanted to see you cry." "I never meant to kill our daughter. Please believe me, okay?" His eyes were swimming with regret. I felt nothing. I didn't care. Because my daughter was never coming back. I no longer had the energy to figure out whether this was another one of his acts. "It's too late, Douglas." "Once the funeral is over, we're getting a divorce." The moment the words left my mouth, the color drained from his face. Before, with Roger's promises propping me up, I'd never made a scene no matter how many women Douglas chased. I'd never once mentioned divorce. But this time, I was done. "Please, baby, I'm begging you. Don't leave me." In his desperation, Douglas dropped to his knees without a shred of dignity. He tried to pull me and our daughter into his arms. I slapped him so hard he fell sideways. He didn't even get angry. He pressed his cheek into my palm and said, "Hit me again. Make me understand what I did wrong." "Let me fix this sick obsession. I'll never hurt you again." He and Roger had been groomed as heirs since childhood. Both carried a bone-deep arrogance, a refusal to bow to anyone. Claire Barber, watching from the side, couldn't hide the flash of jealousy in her eyes. "You know, I've heard there's a type of anesthesia that can make someone appear dead." "Miss Fox, Douglas is about to inherit the family fortune." "To make him feel guilty enough to never forget you, you actually went after your own daughter?" The instant those words landed, Douglas froze mid-plea. Then understanding dawned on his face. "So that's what this is. Letty loves me so much she set a trap." "I was wondering how our daughter could die from a simple anesthesia." "But you went too far this time. Our little games are between us. How could you gamble with our daughter's life?" Ha. The rebuttal caught in my throat. All I felt was the sheer absurdity of it. Just then, Roger called. "Douglas, stop giving Letitia a hard time. Quit acting like a child." "Let the girl be buried and laid to rest. She's Delgado blood. Don't make a spectacle of this." Roger meant well, but the color vanished from Douglas's face in an instant. Claire didn't even bother being subtle. "Funny how concerned your big brother is about your wife." "Douglas, you don't think your sister-in-law would hedge her bets and carry on with your brother behind your back, do you?"

The accusation was blatant, baseless. And Douglas believed every word. His hand closed around my throat. I could barely breathe. His paranoia was the same as it had ever been, demanding to know if I'd betrayed him. But this time, I didn't want to endure it. I didn't want to beg. I was on the verge of suffocating when Roger rushed in, and only then did Douglas let me go. "If you don't know how to cherish someone, then let her go!" Crack. Roger's palm connected with Douglas's face. Douglas latched onto it like it was proof of something. "You want my inheritance, and now you want my woman too?" He pointed at the two of us, shaking with fury. "My daughter was my whole world! I would rather die than hurt her!" I couldn't take it anymore. I clenched my jaw and forced out every word. "I loved you too, once. Loved you enough to give up everything." "And this is how you treated me. You couldn't even measure up to your own brother." Douglas faltered when he saw the grief I couldn't hide. He watched Roger turn away in silence. He thought of the agony I'd endured through ten months of pregnancy, the devotion I'd poured into raising our child, the way I used to wait by the door with hope in my eyes. Reason finally clawed its way back. "I was wrong about you. I'm sorry." He scrambled to explain. "I just couldn't accept that something happened to our daughter. I can't imagine my life without you. I love you too much." He shot a glare at Roger and then at Claire. "What are you two standing around for? One of you apologize, and the other one get out of my sight!" Claire offered a reluctant apology. Roger stood where he was, unmoving. "I want Roger to handle the funeral arrangements." I held firm despite Douglas's protests. His personality was too volatile. I was afraid that if I left the funeral in his hands, something would go wrong. "Miss Fox, please don't overthink things. I didn't mean any harm." She was the one who killed my daughter. Forgiveness was not something I would ever give her. I wanted to tell her to get out, but Douglas coaxed me instead. "Easy. Don't get worked up." "Once the funeral is taken care of, I'll make Claire livestream herself kneeling in the ancestral hall for seven days and seven nights. How does that sound?" I stared at Douglas in disbelief. "Livestream? You want my daughter's killer in the memorial hall?" "Are you trying to humiliate me and our daughter? Or are you trying to make sure her soul never finds peace?" Douglas sighed. "I'm heartbroken about our daughter too, but life has to go on." "Let Claire kneel for seven days. We put this behind us. She carries our daughter's eyes and sees the world through them. There's some comfort in that." So that was how Douglas saw it. Black was white. Truth was irrelevant. They stole my daughter's corneas. They stole her life. And now I was supposed to be grateful to Claire. Why should seven days on her knees erase a blood debt? And why should I be the one who had to let go? "Fine. You want to put this behind us?" I smiled coldly. "Gouge out Claire's eyes and give them back to my daughter. Then I'll agree." Tears spilled instantly from Claire's wide eyes. She stumbled backward, face white with terror, and fled the room. Douglas's brow furrowed, his voice rising sharply. "Letitia! Don't push it!" "Fix your attitude. There's a limit to how far you can take a tantrum." Then he walked out after her. That night, the door to my hospital room opened again. Claire came in carrying a bowl of porridge, her expression dripping with false concern. "Miss Fox, I know you're angry with me, but please don't take it out on Douglas." "This is just a small gesture. Something to help you get your strength back." I looked down at the bowl. Pig eyeballs floated in the broth. Nausea surged up my throat before I could stop it.

The image of my daughter being held down while they cut out her corneas flashed before my eyes. I grabbed the bowl and smashed it on the floor. "What's going on in here?" Douglas pushed the door open and walked in. Claire dropped to her knees with a thud, then started slapping herself across the face right in front of me. Again and again, her eyes bloodshot, she wailed, "I came to apologize to Miss Fox. I even brought her something nourishing. I just wanted her forgiveness." Her sobbing made Douglas frown instantly. "Letitia, when did you become so unreasonable?" He strode forward and grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. Hatred consumed me. My eyes burned with loathing and rage. "I'm the unreasonable one? Then go find another woman! You make me sick!" I shoved him hard, sending him stumbling into Claire's arms. Like throwing out the trash. "You want to hand me off to another woman?!" Douglas stared at me in disbelief. "You'll regret this!" All he got in return was cold silence. "Fine. You've got nerve." "Then I'll give you exactly what you want!" He scooped Claire up with one arm and slammed the door behind him. Over the next few days, Douglas never came to see me again. Roger took my daughter's body. Cremation. A proper memorial service with a respected priest. The Delgado family spared no expense, handling everything with lavish generosity. It was the last thing I could do for my daughter. When she had been reduced to a small box of ashes, Roger let me know it was time to say my final goodbye. I held back my tears and put on a black armband. I was about to walk out the door when someone blocked my path. "Mr. Delgado's orders. You're not allowed to leave." My blood boiled. "I'm going to see my daughter. What right do you have to stop me!" A cold voice cut through the air. "The right of you wanting a divorce from me." Douglas walked in with his fingers laced through Claire's, making no effort to hide it. He looked down at me from above. "I'll give you one last chance. Apologize. Make up. Kiss me. Otherwise..." He raised his other hand. What he was holding made my pupils contract in horror. It was my daughter's urn. When I didn't speak, Douglas took my silence as surrender. He handed the urn to Claire and stepped toward me, ready to claim his kiss. How could he be this shameless? How could he stoop so low as to use our daughter's ashes to threaten me? The moment his lips came close, a sour taste flooded my mouth. The wave of nausea was so violent that I shoved him away on instinct. His body didn't even touch Claire. But he let go on purpose. "No!" Ashes scattered everywhere, drifting through the air. A guttural scream tore from my throat, raw and uncontrollable. Crack. I slapped Claire so hard she crumpled to the ground. Then I fell to my knees in despair, frantically trying to gather the ashes together. Claire was crying, but I couldn't spare her a thought. "Apologize to Claire." Douglas grabbed me by the collar with one hand and hauled me to my feet. "Douglas, are you even human? These are your child's ashes too!" I screamed at him, but he just shrugged like it meant nothing. "Claire didn't mean to. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of it?" "You like kids that much? I'll just give you another one." "Let me say this one more time. Don't wear down my love for you. I don't like it when you cry over other people." Douglas's cold-bloodedness drove me to the edge of despair. When would he ever understand? Our daughter was dead. Even if I could have a hundred more children, she was never coming back. I fought with everything I had to break free of his grip. He answered with a slap across my face that split my lip open. "Apologize." Douglas repeated. "Ew, so dirty." Claire looked at me with open provocation. She lifted her foot and ground it down, again and again. And Douglas just watched. Not the slightest intention of stopping her. The last shred of feeling I had left for him dissolved into nothing. I broke free and stood up, numb. I grabbed a small handful of ashes and tucked them carefully into my pocket. Then I walked out in a daze. "Walk out that door, and I'm done with you for good!" Douglas shouted after me. My lips twitched. It didn't matter. Soon enough, Douglas's fortune, his family, all of it would be done with him too. I sent every last piece of evidence to Roger. Then I filed for divorce. And I boarded a flight out of the country. Before the plane even took off, I saw the Delgado family news blazing across the headlines. WEALTHY HEIR SUSPECTED OF KILLING OWN DAUGHTER; FAMILY STRIPS DOUGLAS DELGADO OF INHERITANCE IN ANCESTRAL TRIBUNAL