A SON IN LAW TURNS BILLIONAIRE AFTER DIVORCE

Chapter 34

The moment the words "Give yourself to me" left Leonard's lips, Sara’s tearful, vulnerable expression vanished in an instant, replaced by a dark wave of pure, toxic disgust.

She violently snatched her hand away from his silk robe, taking a swift step backward.

“You creep!” Sara shrieked, her voice sharp and dripping with venom. “You really think just because you won a bunch of money that you can buy any woman you want?! Take a good look in the mirror, Leonard! What on earth makes a loser like you think you even have a damn chance with me?!”

Leonard didn't flinch. He stood there in his doorway, looking almost completely innocent, his tone calm and unbothered.

“Weren’t you the one who just said—word for word—that you would do absolutely anything to save Duke?”

“That doesn’t include something disgusting like that!” Sara snapped, her face turning bright red.

“Ah,” Leonard nodded slowly, a faint, cold smile touching his lips. “So when you say 'anything,' it comes with terms and conditions.”

Sara’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Caught in her own hypocrisy, her eyes flashed with anger as she tried to scramble for high ground. “You’re twisting my words! You’re taking advantage of a helpless woman in a desperate situation!”

Leonard didn't even bother to argue with her. He completely ignored her outrage and shifted his dark eyes straight down to Duke. The golden Labrador pup was growing visibly weaker in her arms, his breathing shallow, his heavy head drooping low.

Bringing the conversation right back to the dog, Leonard said, “You can yell at me all night, or we can deal with the dog before he passes out.”

Without waiting for her to answer, Leonard grabbed his smartphone and his truck keys off the entry table.

“Here’s another option,” Leonard said, looking her dead in the eye. “I won’t lend you a hundred thousand dollars in cash. But I’ll take Duke to an emergency veterinary hospital right now. I’ll personally cover every single cent of his examination, his surgery, and his follow-up recovery care. On one simple condition: you legally sign ownership of the dog over to me tonight.”

Sara froze dead in her tracks.

The frantic, desperate tears she had been shedding completely dried up. Her eyes blinked once, twice—and instead of looking relieved that her beloved pet was about to be saved, a strange, greedy hesitation crossed her face.

“W-What about the money?” she blurted out.

Leonard looked at her closely. “I just told you. I’ll pay the veterinary hospital directly. You won’t owe me a single dime, and Duke gets immediate emergency surgery. Isn’t that exactly what you walked through my door asking for?”

Realizing how terrible her question had just sounded, Sara’s face flushed as she hurriedly tried to cover her slip.

“No! I mean—Duke can’t bear to be separated from me!” she stammered, pulling the dog closer to her chest. “He’s so attached to me! A sudden change of owners would terrify him and ruin his mental health!”

Yet, even as the words left her mouth, Duke weakly lifted his heavy head, reaching out toward Leonard. The pup strained his neck, trying to nudge his wet nose against Leonard’s bare wrist.

As Sara pulled the dog back in a panic, she squeezed too hard against Duke's bruised, swollen ribcage. The poor puppy let out a sharp, painful whimper.

Leonard instantly reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around Sara’s wrist to stop her from squeezing harder.

“Put him down,” Leonard commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy tone. “You’re hurting him.”

Sara flinched at the authority in his voice and instinctively loosened her grip. Duke slid gently down onto the plush hallway rug. The moment his paws touched the floor, the injured pup didn't shrink away from Leonard; instead, he limped over and leaned his heavy body against Leonard’s leg, resting his head on his foot.

Leonard crouched down, gently stroking Duke’s head behind his ears.

Sara stood above them, her mind spinning as her story began to fracture. “Look... we can’t just take him to any random vet! Only the original emergency hospital knows his medical condition!”

“Fine,” Leonard said smoothly, pulling out his phone. “Name the hospital. We’ll drive straight there right now.”

Sara swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the room. “T-They... they require full payment upfront before they’ll even prep the operating room!”

“Great,” Leonard replied, tapping his screen. “Send me the hospital’s direct payment portal link. I’ll pay it on my phone this second.”

Sara’s lips trembled as she panicked further. “Their digital payment system is offline overnight! They... they only accept direct bank wire transfers!”

Leonard didn't miss a beat. “Give me the hospital’s official business bank account details. Apex National Bank processes instant transfers.”

"Why the hell do you have to make everything so damn complicated?!" Sara finally lost every last drop of her patience, her voice screeching in frustration. "Can't you just wire the hundred thousand dollars directly to my personal checking account?!"

Leonard stopped tapping on his screen.

He slowly raised his head, his cold, piercing gaze locking onto her flushed face.

“Where’s the certified medical report, Sara?” Leonard asked softly. “Where’s the itemized vet estimate for a hundred thousand dollars?”

Sara’s hands began to shake as she frantically pulled up her phone, her thumb scrolling rapidly across the glass without actually opening a single document or app.

“I... I was in such a huge hurry to save his life that I left the paperwork back inside my apartment!” she lied, her voice pitching upward.

“You live three doors down on this exact floor,” Leonard said flatly, standing up to his full height. “Go get it. I’ll wait right here.”

Every single excuse she threw out crumbled to dust the moment it hit the air.

Just as Sara opened her mouth to spit out another frantic lie, her phone violently vibrated in her hand.

BZZZ! BZZZ!

A notification preview popped up across the top of her illuminated screen. Sara glanced down at it, and her whole face tightened in sudden panic. She swiped the screen off so fast her phone nearly flew out of her grip.

Leonard’s military-trained eyes had caught the top line of the text preview in a fraction of a second:

“Still not done? What the fuck are you taking so long for...”

Suddenly, Sara abandoned her act entirely. She stopped weeping, stopped pretending that Duke was her precious family, and stopped claiming the dog couldn't live without her.

She glared at Leonard, her tone turning completely cold and transactional.

“You want the dog, don’t you?” Sara demanded, crossing her arms tightly. “Fine. A hundred thousand dollars in cash, and I’ll sell him to you right now.”

Leonard studied her for a long, quiet moment.

“I thought you just said he couldn’t bear to live a single day without you.”

“I have to damn well live too!” Sara sneered, her mask completely off now. “What about all the money I’ve wasted raising him over the last few months?! What about all my time and effort?! Doesn’t any of that count for anything?!”

Now that she had found a pathetic mental justification to cash in on the dog, her tone became immensely firm, devoid of a single drop of shame.

“A hundred thousand dollars,” she repeated, holding out her phone. “Transfer the money to me right now, and he’s your problem. Whether you get him surgery or how much it costs after that is none of my business.”

Leonard looked down at Duke, who was still resting his warm head against his ankle, softly wagging his tail despite the excruciating pain in his ribs.

Leonard didn't believe a single word of her fake medical bill, let alone her crocodile tears. But he knew one thing for certain: if he let this cold, heartless woman drag Duke back into her apartment tonight, the beaten pup would be dead by morning.

A hundred thousand dollars was complete pocket change to Leonard. In less than eighty days, when the apocalyptic freeze hit, paper money and digital bank balances would become completely worthless anyway.

Besides, Leonard had already been considering getting a heavy guard dog for his bunker estate. A loyal animal who appreciated a warm home was infinitely more worth bringing into his life than the toxic, lying woman standing in front of him.

“Fine,” Leonard said flatly. “I’ll buy him.”

The second the word fine left his mouth, Sara’s eyes widened slightly. A sudden flash of regret crossed her face—she began to wonder if she had asked for too little! Her lips parted as if she were about to open her mouth and demand a hundred and fifty thousand.

Leonard cut her off before she could utter a single syllable.

“A hundred thousand,” Leonard said, his voice dropping into a tone that left zero room for negotiation. “We sign a paper transfer right now, or you take the dog and get the hell out of my apartment.”

Realizing she had hit her limit, Sara hurriedly agreed. “Fine! Transfer it now!”

Leonard pulled out a blank pad of paper from his desk, scribbled a formal bill of sale transferring all legal ownership and registration of the golden Labrador to Leonard Buck, and made her sign it alongside her ID details.

Within thirty seconds, Leonard initiated the instant bank transfer.

DING.

Sara snatched her phone up, checking her bank app first. The second her eyes confirmed that the $100,000 balance had officially cleared into her account, a long, deep breath of pure satisfaction escaped her lips. The fake panic on her face vanished entirely.

She didn't even look back down at the injured dog on the floor once.

She turned on her high heels, walked toward the open front door, and casually tossed a cold remark over her shoulder:

“Don’t blame me if the stupid beast ruins your carpet.”

Leonard didn't say a word. The sheer, naked contrast between her earlier tearful speeches about Duke being her "precious family" and her parting words exposed her bitter, hollow heart far better than any screaming argument ever could.

Before stepping out into the hallway, Sara pulled her phone back out to check her messages.

Standing behind her, Leonard’s sharp eyes caught the exact text she typed back:

“Got the money. I’m coming back to the apartment now.”

Click.

The heavy front door closed behind her.

Leonard crouched down, gently lifting Duke in his arms, placing the injured pup comfortably onto a soft, warm blanket on the couch. He grabbed his hand-held medical scanner and pain relief drops from his military stash, setting them beside the dog.

Then, his eyes narrowed.

Who was she sending those messages to at two in the morning?

And who had beaten Duke so badly that his ribs were cracked?

Curiosity and tactical instinct took over. Leonard quietly stepped to his front door, unlocked the latch without making a sound, and slipped out into the dimly lit, carpeted 15th-floor corridor.

He moved silently down the hallway, keeping his footsteps completely weightless until he reached Apartment 108—Sara’s apartment.

He stopped right outside the heavy metal door, leaning his ear close to the frame.

Muffled voices carried clearly through the door.

"Did the sucker actually buy it?!" a man’s rough, familiar voice demanded inside.

"Every single dime!" Sara’s voice giggled back triumphantly. "A hundred thousand dollars cash, right into my account! That idiot lottery winner didn't suspect a damn thing!"

"Hah! I told you!" the man laughed loudly, the sound of a beer bottle clinking against glass echoing through the door. "I knew kicking that stupid dog until he bled would make him look sick enough! That nouveau riche bastard has more money than brains!"

Leonard’s eyes turned into cold, lethal slits of ice.

He recognized that rough, arrogant voice instantly.

It was Paul—the debt-ridden, alcoholic loser from the elevator. The man who had been hiding from loan sharks, cursing Leonard as an unearned upstart, and claiming to be Sara's husband.

Suddenly, every single piece of the puzzle snapped into absolute, terrifying clarity.

Paul had been drowning in violent loan shark debt. He knew Leonard was filthy rich. So he and Sara had deliberately beaten their own dog until his internal organs were bruised, then sent Sara down the hall at two in the morning in her nightwear, using tears and a fake animal emergency to extort a hundred grand out of the "gullible" billionaire!

Inside the apartment, Paul’s drunk, laughing voice boomed again. "Now we can pay off Boss Hudson and still have ninety grand left over to party! Pour me another drink, babe!"

Standing out in the dark, empty corridor, a slow, terrifying smile spread across Leonard’s face.

He reached into his dark silk robe, his fingers wrapping around the cold, heavy steel handle of the loaded semi-automatic handgun tucked securely inside his inner holster.

He didn't pull the gun out. Not yet.

Instead, Leonard raised his hand, balled his knuckles into a firm fist...

And softly tapped three times on the metal door.