Unexpected Inheritance

Chapter 5

David stepped into his home, his footsteps heavy as the weight of the world seemed to settle onto his shoulders. The house that had once been filled with the promise of a happy future now felt cold, empty, and foreign. He could hear the clinking of glass before he even fully entered the living room.

Sitting there, casually sipping from a glass of wine, was his wife. Her posture was poised, her face unreadable as she glanced up at him. There was no warmth, no apology in her eyes. Just the same indifferent look she had given him countless times before.

On the table beside her was a large, brown envelope, almost too conspicuous, its presence demanding attention.

David didn’t even acknowledge her. He didn’t have the strength to engage, not right now. His body ached from the events of the day, the emotional weight of the betrayal, the humiliating confrontation. He just needed a shower, a moment to clear his head.

As he began to move toward the stairs, his wife’s voice sliced through the silence.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, her tone sharp, her voice carrying a venomous edge.

David didn’t answer. He simply tried to sidestep her, but she stood up abruptly and blocked his path, her gaze cold and calculating.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she continued, her words dripping with disdain. “You think you can just ignore me after everything? After everything you’ve done?”

David’s fists clenched at his sides. He fought back the impulse to strike out, to let his anger take over, but he knew better. He couldn’t give in to the rage. Not now. Not like this.

She took a step closer, her voice growing louder with each word. “You’ve got nothing left. No job, no money, no future. The factory you worked at let you go because you’re nothing but a failure.” She smirked, watching his face for any sign of weakness. “I should’ve seen this coming. A pathetic factory worker like you. Do you think I’m going to keep putting up with your uselessness?”

David stood still. Every word she threw at him, a barb lodged deep in his chest. He wanted to scream, to shout, to make her understand the pain she was causing, but he couldn’t. His pride, his dignity, was all he had left.

"You've come to insult me more, haven't you?" He asked.

"Well, actually, David, you will always be insulted until the day you decide to become rich, like other men. Like Alex. Money is the key David, and until you get that, no one will ever love you or respect you, " Lara said, adding salt to his wounds.

David still couldn't believe this was his wife, he stood there listening, as she kept on insulting him, calling him names, every seconds that passes he hated her more, and he was just controlling himself not to hit a woman.

"Just go away, Hannah," Marcus said.

"Well, there's another reason why I came."

“Just say it,”  David said with no interest.

she sneered, crossing her arms. “Just sign the damn papers and get out of my life. You’re not even worth the space you take up in this house.”

David’s heart twisted at her words, but he held his ground. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t bear to see the person she had become. The woman he had loved, the one he had sacrificed everything for, was now the source of his torment.

“Are you serious?” he asked quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You really want a divorce?”

She nodded, her expression unchanging. “I don’t need you anymore. I’m done. And I’m sure as hell not going to stay married to a man who’s a failure.”

David closed his eyes, his chest tightening as he processed the bitter truth. She had already made up her mind. There was no more fighting, no more reasoning. He had nothing to offer her anymore. He was a liability, a burden she no longer wanted to carry.

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words she wanted to hear, couldn’t bring himself to sign the divorce papers. He didn’t want to let go of the last shred of hope he had—hope that somewhere deep down, she still cared. But the way she stood there, so sure of herself, made him realize that he was fooling himself.

"Get out of my house, Lara. You're out of your mind."

"And that's another thing, this house is not yours."

She had packed his things into a box, the clothes he had once worn with pride now tossed haphazardly inside. She shoved the box toward him, the final blow delivered in silence.

“Get out of my house,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, but the cruelty in her tone hit him like a physical blow.

"What? Your house?"

"Yes! Is it on my name? Remember? Or do you want me to invite the lawyer?"

David clenched his fist. He remembered —he had bought this house in her name. Thinking they would be together forever. Thinking she loved him, but now he realized. He was just a fool, a simp.

David didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. What was left to say?

He glanced at the envelope on the table—her way of forcing him out, an ultimatum he couldn’t escape. His fingers brushed the edge of the envelope, and for a moment, he considered opening it, but the thought of what might be inside was too painful. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore.

“I can’t stay here,” he said, his voice hollow. “I’ll leave.”

His mind raced as he gathered what little he had left—his clothes, his dignity, and the faint remnants of the life they had shared. He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t know where to go. But there was no point in fighting anymore.

He didn’t even look back as he walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

------

The night air hit him like a slap in the face as he stepped onto the sidewalk. His phone was silent. No messages, no calls—just the eerie quiet of his own thoughts.

David didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone in that house any longer. He had nowhere to turn.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was too much. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

It was a number he hadn’t expected to use, but in this moment, he had no other choice. His father’s butler, Arthur. He had told David to call him if he needed anything.

“David?” The voice on the other end asked. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” David replied, his voice low. “I need somewhere to stay for the night. I have nowhere else to go.”

“Don’t worry,” the author said, his tone reassuring. “I’ll make a call. Head to the Whitecrest Hotel. They’ll take care of you. It’s on me.”

David didn’t argue. He knew the Arthur’s connections ran deep, and he wasn’t about to turn down the offer. “Thanks,” he muttered before hanging up.