Chapter 4: The Greed Game Begins

The word “freeloader” stung.

It echoed in my head long after she left the room. I clenched my fists, reminding myself to stay calm. I wouldn’t let her win.

In this family, only my daughter and I are truly related by blood.

Everyone else was just passing through, taking what they could. I was done playing their game.

I said nothing, just quietly pulled my daughter into our room.

She hugged my waist, her small arms a lifeline. I closed the door, shutting out the noise. I wished I could keep her safe forever.

My sister-in-law peeked through the door, thinking I was secretly giving my daughter money.

Her eyes narrowed, always suspicious. She never missed a chance to stir up trouble. I could feel her watching.

I pretended not to notice and solemnly took out the pendant.

I made a show of it, glancing over my shoulder, as if I was about to share a great secret.

“Sweetie, take this pendant, but don’t tell Mommy.”

Her eyes went wide. "Is it magic, Daddy?"

“Your mom said never to give it to anyone else, so I can only give it to you in secret.”

She nodded solemnly, as if we were plotting a great adventure.

“With this pendant, we’ll have endless money.”

I whispered it like a bedtime story, hoping she’d believe me just enough to play along.

I made sure to say the last part softly and vaguely.

I caught my daughter’s eye, giving her a little wink. She giggled, covering her mouth.

As soon as my daughter took it, my sister-in-law barged in and snatched the pendant away.

She moved fast, grabbing it out of my daughter’s hands before I could react.

“So this is the secret behind all your winnings! What does a kid know about making money? I’ll put this to better use.”

She dangled the pendant in front of my face, her eyes greedy and triumphant. I wanted to slap it out of her hand.

Her face was full of greed, not giving me a chance to object.

She clutched it tight, already dreaming of dollar signs.

I tried to warn her gently. “If they find out, you’ll be in trouble!”

I kept my tone low, hoping she’d see reason. But I knew it was useless.

Maybe thinking of the chewing out she’d get from my wife and mother-in-law, my sister-in-law hesitated.

She bit her lip, glancing at the door, weighing her options.

But in the end, greed won out.

She stuffed the pendant into her purse, her mind made up.

“Hey, I’m calling you brother, so don’t be ungrateful!”

She smirked, like she was doing me a favor.

“At worst, I’ll share some of the money with you, but you can’t tell anyone!”

She wagged her finger, already plotting how to spend her future winnings. She was a piece of work.

I kept up my troubled look.

I sighed, slumping my shoulders. No point in arguing.

She got impatient. “Enough! Don’t tell me what to do—I know what I’m doing.”

She waved me off, already halfway out the door.

“If you tell my sister or my mom, I’ll just say you gave me the pendant. Let’s see who they believe!”

She knew exactly how to play the game. I didn’t stand a chance.

She took the pendant and strutted out.

I watched her go, a sinking feeling in my gut. I knew this wouldn’t end well.

From her Instagram, I could see she was raking in cash.

She posted pictures of shopping sprees, fancy dinners, and new jewelry every other day. Her followers ate it up. I rolled my eyes.

Louis Vuitton bags, a brand-new Mercedes—she got them all.

She posed next to her car, sunglasses on, flashing peace signs. It was all so fake, but no one seemed to care.

As her spending grew, she got even greedier and even flew straight to Vegas.

She posted selfies on the Strip, cocktails in hand, captioned with hashtags like #Blessed and #Winning.

Every now and then, I’d get a little cash from her. It was her hush money: “Don’t you dare tell anyone!”

She’d slip me a hundred here and there, always with a wink and a warning.

Meanwhile, my wife and mother-in-law kept pestering me for money every day.

They called, texted, even left sticky notes on the fridge. It never ended. I was drowning in reminders.

Watching my wife blow a few grand at a spa with the family card, I sneered.

She sent me selfies from the sauna, her friends laughing in the background. I wanted to smash my phone.

She sounded annoyed on the phone. “I’ll send you the payment link. Just pay it.”

Her voice was sharp, impatient. She didn’t care where the money came from, as long as it kept coming.

“I’m having tea with some businesspeople here. Don’t make me look bad.”

She always played up her connections, acting like she was on the verge of some big deal.

“I’m working hard for this family, unlike you, who does nothing and still has money.”

She never missed a chance to put me down, even in front of strangers.

Her voice was breathless, and I could hear a low male voice in the background.

There was laughter, clinking glasses, and then a man’s voice—deep and familiar. My stomach clenched.

“Sis, I can’t take it anymore~ Hang up, I can’t wait.”

He sounded playful, but there was an edge to it. My stomach twisted.

She hurriedly hung up and texted me to pay.

The message popped up a second later: "Don’t get the wrong idea—that was just the boss’s little brother."

I didn’t question her and paid up right away.

I transferred the money, telling myself it was for the family. But deep down, I knew better.

No sooner had I put down my phone than my mother-in-law came in with a crowd of noisy relatives.

They burst through the door, laughing and shouting, dragging their suitcases behind them. The noise was deafening.

They all looked at me with unfriendly, judgmental eyes as they came into our house.

They barely said hello, just started eyeing the furniture, the TV, anything worth taking.

My aunt looked me up and down, finally settling her gaze on me with contempt.

She sniffed, wrinkling her nose, like I was something she’d stepped in. I bit my tongue.

“Can your son-in-law really give us money? He looks poorer than we are.”

She said it loud enough for everyone to hear. The room went quiet for a moment.

My mother-in-law’s face darkened and she quickly nudged me.

She shot me a look that said, "Don’t embarrass me."

“You know we have guests—act right.”

Her voice was sharp, barely hiding her irritation.

“Hurry up and get a few grand for my nephew’s tuition.”

She didn’t even try to be subtle, just barked out orders like I was the help.

She turned and smiled at my aunt. “He just doesn’t like to show off, but he’s been making a lot lately.”

She laid it on thick, bragging about my "success" to anyone who’d listen.

Looking at these people, I clenched my teeth.

I remembered every dollar they’d taken from me, every fake smile. My patience was wearing thin.

In my last life, their family was like a pack of leeches, always asking me for money, and my mother-in-law always agreed just to keep up appearances.

They’d show up unannounced, eat my food, and leave with their pockets full. My house was a revolving door for moochers.

Almost a third of my winnings went to these freeloaders.

I did the math once—it made me sick to my stomach. Never again.

I swallowed my anger, went back to my room, and brought out a stack of cash for them.

I handed it over without a word, watching their faces light up.

When they saw the money, my aunt and cousin’s eyes sparkled.

They couldn’t hide their excitement. It was like Christmas morning for them. I almost laughed at how greedy they looked.

They grabbed the cash and stuffed it into their pockets.

They didn’t even say thank you, just shoved it in and started whispering about what they’d buy.

Then they started lecturing me, greedy as ever.

They told me how to spend my money, how to raise my daughter, how to be a "real man." I tuned them out. Their words washed over me like static.

“You need to work harder—my son still needs to go to college, get married, find a wife.”

My cousin chimed in, listing all the things he needed. I just nodded, counting the seconds until they’d leave.

Before I could say anything, my mother-in-law quickly chimed in with a smile.

She put on her best hostess act, promising the world to everyone in the room.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything.”

She patted my arm, as if she was the one making the sacrifices.

They took a bunch of stuff from our house before finally leaving.

I watched them load up their car with bags, boxes, even my old guitar. I didn’t bother stopping them.

Only then did my mother-in-law’s attitude toward me soften a little, but she still looked down on my daughter and me.

She offered me a weak smile, but her eyes were cold. I knew we’d never be good enough for her.

I didn’t want to stay under the same roof with her, so I took my daughter to the hospital for another check-up.

We bundled up and headed out, the cold night air a relief after the stuffy house.

Sure enough, my daughter’s health was slowly improving!

Her cheeks had more color, her step was lighter. The doctors were optimistic. I felt hope for the first time in ages.

Only then did I feel relieved.

For the first time in a long time, I let myself hope. Maybe things could really change.

My wife called again, drunk and whining.

Her words slurred, music blaring in the background. I could picture her, glass in hand, surrounded by strangers.

“Where did you go this time? You didn’t cook.”

She sounded more annoyed than concerned. Dinner was always my job, apparently.

“Where’s my hangover soup?”

She liked it with extra ginger, just the way her mom made it. I almost laughed at the absurdity. The world’s worst mother, craving soup.

I could only pretend to sound sad.

I let my voice crack, just enough to sound convincing. "My daughter and I aren’t feeling well. We’re at the hospital right now."

She immediately asked, excitedly,

Her tone shifted instantly, sharp and eager. "Did you get the test results? Is there anything wrong?"

Realizing she was being too obvious, she quickly changed her tone.

She coughed, trying to sound casual. "Get checked out first. I’ll come see you tonight."

I sneered inside—she just wanted to see how much damage the pendant had done to us. She didn’t care about us, only her inheritance.

I could only reply with fake hope and hang up.

"Sure thing, honey. See you soon." I hung up before she could ask more questions.

But as it turned out, the one who was rushed to the hospital that night wasn’t us.

Fate, it seemed, was finally turning the tables. And for once, I was ready for it.