My Wife Killed My Brother
That day, the rain was pouring down in torrents, and she stood in the rain wearing a white dress, like a fallen gardenia.
A few thugs snatched her bag. I grabbed a wrench and rushed over, but they pinned me down and beat me.
Just as an iron rod was about to hit my head, Yvonne suddenly grabbed a nearby beer bottle and smashed it hard on the ringleader's head.
Glass shards sprayed all over her, but she stood firmly in front of me, her eyes sharper than the broken glass.
Later, I learned she was the heiress of the Lawrence Group.
Because she injured someone, the patriarch of the Lawrence Family flew into a rage and drove her out, cutting off all financial support.
When she dragged her suitcase to me, I was living in the basement, the damp walls thick with mildew.
"From now on, I'll stay with you," she said with a smile, setting the suitcase in the corner, "I'll protect you."
That night, she lay down on the old mattress opposite me, moonlight streaming through the small window and falling softly on her face.
"Felix Zimmerman," she whispered, "I'll protect you for life."
I clenched my worn-out work pants, my heart aching and burning at the same time.
From that day on, we crammed ourselves into a ten-square-meter basement.
I worked at the auto repair shop during the day and ran a stall at the night market in the evenings.
Yvonne Lawrence got a clerk job and came to help me pack up at the night market every day after work.
She couldn't even twist open a bottle cap before, but now she could carry dozens of pounds of goods up and down the stairs.
Once, when I had a fever of 39 degrees Celsius, I vaguely sensed her pressing a damp towel to my forehead, staying up all night without sleeping.
The next day, I woke up to see her leaning over the bedside, her eyes bloodshot.
"Don't push yourself so hard anymore," she said, touching my forehead, her voice choked with tears, "I'll work hard to make money, so you can live a good life."
She followed through on her promise.
Three years later, thanks to her outstanding ability, she joined one of the top investment firms in the industry.
Two years later, she became the company's youngest senior executive, bought a spacious apartment, and got me out of the basement.
On moving day, she held me and cried, "Felix Zimmerman, we've finally made it."
I held her tightly, my heart filled with gratitude.
I thought we would be happy like this forever.
On our wedding anniversary, I booked her favorite Western restaurant in advance and bought the necklace she had been talking about for a long time.
I sat in the restaurant waiting for her, but instead, I received a call from a stranger.
"You're Yvonne Lawrence's husband, right?" The woman's voice was cold, "I have something you need to see."
I followed the address she gave me and found a private clinic.
The woman handed me a medical report and several photos.
The medical record had Yvonne Lawrence's name on it—production records from abroad, five years ago.
In the photo, Yvonne Lawrence was holding a baby, with a stranger standing beside her.
My hands began to tremble, and my heart felt as if gripped by an invisible hand, aching so badly I could hardly breathe.
Five years ago, Yvonne said she was going abroad to track down the person who bullied me back then—I believed her.
I messaged her every day; she always said she was busy and sometimes sent back a photo of a landscape.
It turned out she wasn't investigating the assailant at all, but going to have a child for another man.
The candlelight in the restaurant still flickered, but the necklace box in my hand suddenly felt unbearably heavy.
I sat there until the restaurant closed, and only when the waiter came over to remind me did I numbingly get up.
It started raining outside, just as heavily as the day I first met Yvonne.
I walked in the rain, letting it soak my clothes, while something inside me shattered completely.
When I got home, Yvonne was sitting on the sofa waiting for me, holding a cake.
"Felix Zimmerman, you're back," she said with a smile as she stood up. "Today is our wedding anniversary, so I made your favorite chocolate cake."
I looked at the smile on her face and found it unbearably harsh.
"Let's get a divorce." I said, my voice hoarse and hardly my own.
Yvonne's smile froze. She paused, then came over and took my hand. "Felix Zimmerman, what's wrong? Are you joking with me?"
"I'm not joking," I said, shaking off her hand. "Five years ago, when you went abroad, it wasn't to investigate the murderer. It was to have a child, wasn't it?"
Yvonne instantly went pale. She stepped back, eyes avoiding mine. "Felix Zimmerman, listen to me, it's not what you think..."
"It's not what I thought?" I threw the medical records and photos in front of her. "What are these? Tell me, what are these!"
The photos scattered on the ground—the image of Yvonne Lawrence holding the baby—stung my eyes like needles.
Yvonne Lawrence crouched on the ground, her hands covering her face, shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
"I know I was wrong, Felix Zimmerman," she sobbed. "But I was forced into it. Believe me, I only have you in my heart..."
"Forced?" I sneered, "Forced to have a child too? Yvonne, do you take me for a fool?"
"We're not divorcing," Yvonne suddenly raised her head, her eyes firm. "Felix Zimmerman, I won't divorce you. We've come so far to get here..."
"You don't get to decide." I turned to leave.
"Stop him!" Yvonne suddenly shouted.
Two bodyguards in black suits stepped out from the room, blocking my way.
These were the bodyguards Yvonne hired to protect me after she became a senior executive.
"Step aside." I stared at them, my voice cold.
The bodyguards stayed still, only looking at Yvonne.
Yvonne Lawrence walked up to me, her face dry of tears, a flicker of cruelty in her eyes: "Felix Zimmerman, I told you, we're not getting a divorce."
"Do you think this will keep me here?" I looked at her, my heart heavy with disappointment.
Yvonne said nothing. She pulled a fruit knife out from under the coffee table and approached one of the bodyguards.
"Ms. Lawrence, you..." The bodyguard panicked.
Without hesitation, Yvonne raised the knife and struck; the bodyguard's left hand was severed with a sharp thud, blood spurting immediately.
"Ah!" the bodyguard screamed and collapsed to the ground.
I was stunned, staring at the knife in Yvonne Lawrence's hand and the blood on the floor; my stomach churned wildly.
"Did you see that?" Yvonne Lawrence looked at me, her face expressionless.
"If you dare bring up divorce, I can't guarantee who'll be hurt next."
My anger instantly clouded my mind. I snatched the knife from her hand and pointed it at her chest. "Yvonne, you're insane!"
Yvonne looked at the knife in my hand, unafraid, and instead smiled: "Felix Zimmerman, you can't bring yourself to kill me, can you?"
Her words felt like a thorn stabbing into my heart.
I remembered the days we spent in the basement, the porridge she made for me, the red veins in her eyes.
But when I looked down again at the blood on the floor and the production records, my heart hardened once more.
I raised the knife and stabbed fiercely.
Just as the blade's tip was about to touch her chest, I stopped.
I still couldn't bring myself to do it.
Yvonne Lawrence looked at me, a flicker of triumph in her eyes: "I knew it, you still have feelings for me..."
"Don't flatter yourself," I threw the knife to the ground, my voice cold. "I'm not killing you because I still love you; it's because I don't want to dirty my hands."
"What about the child?" I looked at her, speaking deliberately, "You think all I did was investigate your plans to go abroad? I've already found the child."
Yvonne's face instantly went pale. She grabbed my arm, "Felix Zimmerman, what have you done to the child? You can't hurt him; he's innocent!"
"Innocent?" I sneered coldly, "His very existence is the greatest insult to me."
"I didn't do anything to him, just made him 'accidentally' trip and fall. He's still lying in the hospital now."
Hearing this, Yvonne's eyes widened, and she suddenly pushed me away, her voice hoarse, "Felix Zimmerman, how can you be so cruel! He's just a child!"
"Cruel?" I looked at her. "When you betrayed me back then, didn't you ever consider how cruel that was? Yvonne, it's completely over between us."
I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Yvonne's sobs and the sound of something breaking.
I didn't look back. My heart felt hollowed out, leaving only an endless chill.
From that day on, I moved out and stayed in a hotel.
I didn't stop investigating. I had to know who that man was and why Yvonne was carrying his child.
I hired a private detective and soon got the results.
That man was Pete Xavier, heir to the Xavier Group, and Yvonne Lawrence's college classmate.
Five years ago, Pete Xavier was injured in an accident and lost his ability to father children.
He asked Yvonne to bear a child for him, and in return, he gave her abundant resources to help her rapidly advance her career.
It turned out that what I thought was our shared struggle was nothing but her betraying my trust and striking deals with other men.
My heart filled with anger and resentment; I was determined to make them pay.
I began collecting evidence of Pete Xavier and Yvonne's transactions, including their financial dealings and some dark secrets about the Xavier Group.
Yvonne Lawrence quickly found out what I was up to. She sent people to find me, wanting to talk.
I didn't see her. I knew what she wanted—just to make me stop.
But I won't stop. I'm determined to ruin them completely.
One day, while I was organizing evidence in my hotel room, I suddenly heard a knock at the door.
I thought it was room service. When I opened the door, Yvonne was standing there, with several bodyguards behind her.
"Felix Zimmerman, stop your investigation." Yvonne looked at me, her eyes filled with a hint of pleading.
"What's between us, we'll handle ourselves. Don't drag Pete Xavier or the child into this."
"Involving them?" I sneered, "When you were doing those things back then, did you ever think it would come to this?"
"Yvonne Lawrence, it's too late for you to say that now."
"I know I've wronged you." Yvonne's voice was somewhat choked.
"Whatever amount you want, I can give it to you—just please stop digging and don't hurt Pete Xavier or the child."
"Money?" I looked at her. "Yvonne, do you think I still care about money now? What I care about is your betrayal—you destroyed my life!"
"Since you refuse to back down, don't blame me for being ruthless." Yvonne Lawrence's eyes grew icy cold. She waved her hand, and the bodyguards behind her lunged at me.
I was ready. I pulled out a spring knife I had prepared from the drawer and pointed it at them: "Anyone who comes near, I'll stab!"
The bodyguards froze, hesitating as they stared at the knife in my hand.
"Felix Zimmerman, don't be impulsive," Yvonne hurriedly said, "We can talk this out."
"There's nothing to talk about," I replied, staring at her, "You leave now, or I'll call the police and report you for illegal trespassing."
Yvonne Lawrence looked at me, knowing I was serious this time. She bit her lip and left with the bodyguards.
I closed the door and leaned against it, feeling my anger grow stronger and stronger.
I knew Yvonne Lawrence wouldn't let this go easily; the conflict between us was far from over.
A few days later, my people reported that they had captured Pete Xavier.
I rushed immediately to the place where Pete was being held.
Pete Xavier was tied to a chair, his face pale. Seeing me come in, he struggled slightly: "Who are you? What do you want?"
"Who am I?" I walked up to him with a smile. "I'm Yvonne Lawrence's husband, Felix Zimmerman. You've probably heard of me, right?"
Pete Xavier heard my name, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. "It's you! Why did you bring me here?"
"Nothing like that." I sat down in the chair opposite him.
"I just wanted to ask, when you made Yvonne have your child, did you ever stop to think about how I, her husband, would feel?"
Pete said nothing, keeping his head lowered.
"What, too scared to answer now?" I sneered coldly, "You think that having money and power means you can toy with others' feelings and trample on their dignity at will?"
At that moment, the door was suddenly kicked open. Yvonne Lawrence rushed in holding a handgun, pointing it at me: "Felix Zimmerman, let Pete Xavier go!"
I looked at the gun in her hand, feeling no fear—only a sense of absurdity. "Yvonne Lawrence, you actually dared to use a gun for him?"
"I'll say it again: release Pete Xavier!" Yvonne's hands trembled, but her gaze was firm. "If you dare hurt him, I'll shoot you dead!"
"Go ahead and shoot," I said, looking at her. "Even if you kill me, you won't get away."
"By then, Pete Xavier will still be ruined, and your child will be left motherless."
Yvonne Lawrence's expression shifted. She looked at me, then at Pete Xavier, her eyes filled with conflict.
"Felix Zimmerman, I'm begging you," her voice softened. "Please let Pete Xavier go."
"I promise I won't interfere with your life anymore. Let's end the grudges between us here, alright?"
"End them?" I looked at her. "The grudges between us aren't something you can just say are over and have them be over. Pete Xavier must pay for what he's done."
"So, what do you want?" Yvonne Lawrence looked at me and said, "As long as you let him go, I'll agree to anything you ask."
"I want ten percent of the shares in Xavier Group." I said.
"And you must publicly admit your relationship with Pete Xavier, admit that you betrayed me for him in the first place."
Yvonne's expression darkened as she heard this: "Ten percent of the shares? That's an outrageous demand! I don't have the authority to decide Xavier Group's shares."
"Then I don't care," I said, looking at her. "Either you accept my terms and let Pete go, or we'll tear each other apart and no one will come out okay."
Yvonne Lawrence looked at me, then at Pete Xavier, hesitated for a long moment, and finally nodded:
"Alright, I promise you. I'll give you an answer as soon as possible. You release Pete Xavier first."
"Fine," I waved my hand at my men to untie Pete Xavier. "But you better remember what you said—don't try any tricks on me."
Once Pete was untied, he immediately ran to Yvonne. She supported him and looked at me cautiously: "Let's go."
They turned and left. At the door, Yvonne glanced back at me, her eyes filled with complex emotions.
I watched their backs without any sense of satisfaction, only overwhelming exhaustion.
Yvonne Lawrence soon fulfilled her promise, granting me ten percent of the shares in Xavier Group and publicly acknowledging her relationship with Pete Xavier.
For a time, public opinion was in uproar; Yvonne Lawrence and Pete Xavier became the scapegoats.
The stock prices of both Lawrence Group and Xavier Group plummeted, suffering heavy losses.
I watched the news, but instead of the satisfaction I expected, I felt empty inside.
I thought that by taking revenge on them, I'd feel better, but the reality was quite different.
I began to suffer from insomnia, plagued by nightmares every night—dreams of Yvonne Lawrence holding a child, smiling and telling me it was mine. But upon waking, only the cold reality remained.
One day, I got a call from Yvonne Lawrence.
"Felix Zimmerman, let's meet," she said weakly. "I have something to tell you."
I hesitated for a moment but agreed.
We arranged to meet at a café.
Yvonne sat by the window, looking pale and worn out.
"What do you want to talk to me about?" I sat across from her and began to speak.
Yvonne looked at me and remained silent for a long while before saying, "I'm pregnant... it's Pete Xavier's."
I was momentarily stunned, feeling nothing but bitterness. "So? You want me to congratulate you?"
"No," Yvonne's voice trembled with tears, "the baby's gone. I fell yesterday, and I lost it."
I looked at her but said nothing.
"Felix Zimmerman, you're the one who killed my baby." Suddenly, Yvonne grew agitated and grabbed my hand.
"You forced me; it was you who drained me until I was exhausted. That's why I accidentally fell, and the child was lost!"
"Why do you treat me like this? Why drag the child into our feud?"
"Drag the child into it?" I pulled my hand away. "When you were carrying Pete Xavier's child and betrayed me, didn't you ever consider how it would affect the child?"
"Yvonne Lawrence, the loss of this child was your doing alone; it has nothing to do with me."
"Nothing to do with you?" Yvonne looked at me, her eyes filled with hatred.
"If it weren't for you investigating us and pushing us like this, how would I have ended up like this? How could my child be gone!"
"Stop telling me these useless things," I stood up. "If you called me here just to say that, then I'm leaving."
"Wait," Yvonne Lawrence called out to me, "let's get a divorce."
I was stunned; I hadn't expected her to take the initiative and suggest divorce.
"Haven't you always wanted a divorce?" Yvonne looked at me. "I promise you, we'll get divorced."
I looked at her, puzzled. Why had she suddenly changed her mind?
"But," Yvonne Lawrence's eyes grew cold, "there's something I need to tell you before we get divorced."
I had a bad feeling in my heart.
"Your younger brother, Finlay Zimmerman, is still lying in the hospital, right?" Yvonne smiled and said, "His condition is very serious, and he's surviving solely on the oxygen tube, isn't he?"
My heart tightened. My younger brother, Finlay Zimmerman, had been frail since childhood. A year ago, he was diagnosed with a severe illness and has been hospitalized ever since, relying on the oxygen tube to stay alive.
"What are you trying to do?" I looked at her, my voice shaking.
"I didn't do much," Yvonne Lawrence said with a cruel smile. "I just went to the hospital to see him yesterday and accidentally pulled out his oxygen tube. By the time the doctors found out, it was already too late for him."
"What did you say?" I couldn't believe my ears. I rushed over and grabbed Yvonne by the collar, my nails digging almost into her flesh.
"Say that again!" My voice trembled, tears spilling uncontrollably.
Yvonne gasped for breath under my grip, yet she still laughed—a savage laugh: "I said your younger brother died because I pulled out his oxygen tube. He will never wake up again!"
"Mad woman! You're a mad woman!" I raised my hand to slap her, but it froze in midair.
I remember when we were kids, my younger brother always followed me around, calling me "brother" in a soft voice, promising to protect me when he grew up.
Now, because of me, he's dead by Yvonne Lawrence's hand.
My heart felt like it was ripped wide open, the pain nearly suffocating me.
I dropped my hand, stumbled back a few steps, and crashed into the table behind me; the cup fell and shattered on the floor.
"Why... why did you hurt him?" I looked at Yvonne, my voice hoarse.
"The grudge between us—if you have a problem with me, that's one thing, but why drag my younger brother into this? He's so kind; he's never hurt you!"
"Kind?" Yvonne sneered, "Felix Zimmerman, don't forget, when I was with you, your younger brother was always against us."
"He said I was an heiress, not from your world, and that I'd abandon you sooner or later. He should have been dead a long time ago!"
"Shut up!" I shouted furiously. "My younger brother was right—you're a cold-hearted, ruthless woman! You don't deserve anyone's love!"
"I don't deserve it?" Yvonne Lawrence looked at me with eyes full of scorn. "And what about you? Who do you think you are?"
"You're just a mechanic. If it weren't for me, you'd still be living in the basement, barely scraping by! What right do you have to judge me?"
"I'm poor and powerless, but I've never betrayed anyone," I said, looking at her.
"Yvonne, what you owe me and my younger brother, I'll make you pay back—bit by bit!"
I turned and rushed out of the café, driving straight to the hospital.
I hoped Yvonne was lying. I hoped my younger brother was still okay, still lying on that hospital bed waiting for me.
But when I arrived at the hospital and saw the doctor shake his head, I knew it was already too late.
In my younger brother's hospital room, the white sheets covered his body. The child who once called me "brother" in that childish voice would never be there again.
I leaned over the bed, crying like a child.
A nurse handed me a note, saying it was left by my younger brother for me.
I opened the note, written in my brother's shaky handwriting:
"Brother, I know I'm running out of time. Don't be sad. Yvonne Lawrence isn't a bad person. Don't argue with her. Live well..."
My tears flowed even harder; until the very end, my younger brother was still defending Yvonne Lawrence.
But Yvonne? She was the one who personally ended my younger brother's life.
From that day on, all I felt was hatred in my heart.
I returned to the hotel and immediately had someone prepare the divorce papers.
I was going to divorce Yvonne, and then make her and Pete Xavier pay the price for my younger brother's death.
A few days later, I placed the divorce papers in front of Yvonne.
"Sign here," I said, looking at her coldly, "Once you sign, everything between us will be over for good."
Yvonne Lawrence picked up the divorce agreement, didn't even look at it, and tore it into pieces.
"Want a divorce?" She looked at me with eyes full of hatred. "Felix Zimmerman, I'm telling you, it's impossible!"
"Your younger brother is dead, so don't think you'll find peace! I'll drag you down and make you live in pain forever!"
"You think that will make me suffer?" I sneered coldly. "Yvonne, you're wrong."
"By now, I have no feelings left; no matter what you do, it won't hurt me."
"But you, do you really think Pete Xavier loves you?"
"He only sees you as a baby-making tool and a stepping stone for his career."
"Once he's done using you, he'll throw you away like garbage!"
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