A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 192

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The truth

Sun did not stop.

He carried the story forward with the same measured control, but now there was something darker beneath it- something closer to anger.

“We did not get more information at the time,” he said. “An ambulance arrived and took her to the hospital. We gave our statements to the police.”

Jason’s eyes had not left him.

“When we arrived at the hospital and asked for Rebeca,” Mr. Sun continued, “one of the nurses informed us that her husband had checked her out.”

A pause.

“Against medical advice.”

Of course he had.

“Two weeks later,” Mr. Sun said, his voice tightening almost imperceptibly, “we were informed by the police that she had died on site.”

The room went still.

“But she was alive when they took her.”

The contradiction sat there.

Heavy.

Deliberate.

“The funeral was closed casket,” he added.

Jason’s jaw clenched.

“But something was wrong.”

Mr. Sun’s gaze softened just slightly-not weakness, but memory.

“Your grandmother,” he said, “has always had… exceptional instincts.”

There was pride there.

And certainty.

“She was convinced Rebeca was still alive.”

A beat.

“That someone had taken her.”

The same way they had taken Jason.

“So we investigated,” Mr. Sun continued. “Quietly. Thoroughly.”

His tone sharpened again.

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“And she found it.”

Athread.

A’mistake.

“One of the doctors involved had received a large sum of money.”

Emory leaned forward slightly.

“He was the one who signed the death certificate,” Mr. Sun said.

The pattern was undeniable now.

“The money came from a corporation called Blackboard.”

A pause.

“Or at least… it appeared that way.’

Jason’s expression darkened further.

“Because when we went to the listed location,” Mr. Sun finished, “there was nothing there.”

Silence.

“It was a phantom company.”

The same kind of ghost trail.

The same kind of invisible network.

The same kind of lie-

Carefully constructed to disappear the moment someone looked too closely.

And now-

It had a name.

Mr. Sun paused, but only briefly, as if even now he refused to give the past the power to slow him down.

“For a year,” he continued, “we had no more leads.”

His voice lowered.

“Your grandmother was wasting away before my eyes.”

The words were simple, but they carried something unbearable beneath them.

Not weakness.

Grief.

“So I did the only thing I could think of.”

He straightened slightly.

“I placed an ad in the paper.”

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Emory frowned faintly.

simple niessage,” Mr. Sun explained. “No names beyond first names. No details. Just an offer.”

A’pause.

“More money… in exchange for information on Rebecca and Jason’s whereabouts.”

The room leaned into the silence that followed.

“Three days later,” he said, “I received a call.”

Jason did not move.

But I felt the shift in him.

“A woman,” Mr. Sun continued. “Her voice was… tired.”

He chose the word carefully.

“She said she was Rebecca.”

A breath caught in my chest. 1

“She told me she was being held against her will.”

The pattern again.

“In a country house. Forced to work for a wealthy family.”

Jason’s hand tightened into a fist.

“She refused to tell me where she was.

Of course she did.

Someone was listening.

Someone was always listening.

“But she gave me something,” Mr. Sun said.

A clue.

A direction.

A thread.

“She said I would be able to find my grandson… if I followed the path of the Blue Mountains.”

The words settled into the room like a riddle carved in stone.

“That was all.”

No explanation.

No reassurance. 1

No time.

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“She ended the call.”

dence followed.

Because now-

The past was no longer just a tragedy.

It was a trail.

Mr. Sun’s voice did not waver, but something in the room had already shifted.

What had begun as a story was no longer just memory.

It was evidence.

“A year passed,” he said.

No one moved.

“Then we received a call from a contact in the military.”

Emory straightened slightly.

“They had found a body in the countryside.”

A pause.

“Rebecca’s.”

Jason’s breath stilled.

“They contacted Samuel first,” Mr. Sun continued. “He did not believe it. Said she was already dead.”

Of course he did.

“So they contacted us… to identify the body.”

The silence deepened.

“It was a fourteen-hour drive.”

Every mile felt in the room.

“When we arrived…”

He exhaled slowly.

“We confirmed it was her.”

I felt my chest tighten.

“She was dressed in fine clothes,” he said. “Her hands were delicate. Untouched.”

Not the hands of someone forced to work.

“It was obvious she had not been doing labor.”

A contradiction. 1

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Another lie.

The forensic examiner determined she had died during childbirth.”

The words struck harder than anything before them.

Jason’s fingers curled slowly into his palms.

“We had her buried in her family land,” Mr. Sun added quietly. “The tomb that had been prepared for her… was empty.”

A ghost buried twice.

Then Mr. Sun turned fully toward Jason.

“Your father believed she had run away,” he said. “To live with someone else.”

A pause.

“He had found evidence she was being unfaithful.”

Jason did not react outwardly.

But I felt the tension coil tighter beside me.

“On our way back,” Mr. Sun continued, “my wife noticed something.”