The Servant You Mocked Is Now a Quadrillionaire Heir

Chapter 5

Jenny's face lit up like she'd won the lottery. "Really? Oh, thank God. Finally. This parasite is finally crawling back to whatever hole he came from." She clapped her hands together, practically giddy. "Helen, darling, this is wonderful news. You'll be so much better off without this dead weight dragging you down."

"Mom, don't be so harsh," Helen said, but there was no real conviction in her words. She stood with her arms crossed, watching Ethan with cold, detached eyes.

Jenny waved her off. "Harsh? I'm being honest. Helen, you're young, beautiful, successful—there are dozens of men out there who would kill for a chance to be with you. Real men. Men with ambition, with money, with status." She shot Ethan a withering look. "Not whatever this is."

Ethan's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile—bitter, knowing, utterly without warmth. He remembered three years ago, when he'd handed Jenny and Helen the only $100,000 he had saved. It was every penny he'd owned, given freely to help Helen launch her business when no bank would take a chance on her. Back then, Jenny had embraced him, called him her son, told him he was part of the family forever.

Funny how quickly "forever" ended when the money changed hands.

But he said none of this. There was no point. People like Jenny Morrison didn't feel shame—they just rewrote history to suit their narrative.

Ethan slung his backpack over his shoulder, the weight of his entire three-year life reduced to twenty pounds of fabric and memory. He turned toward the door without another word.

"Good riddance!" Jenny called after him, her voice bright with malicious satisfaction. "And don't you dare come crawling back when reality hits you! We don't take in strays twice!"

Ethan reached for the door handle.

"If you leave, don't come back," Helen said again, her voice sharp and final. "I mean it, Ethan."

He didn't look back. Didn't respond. Just opened the door and stepped through it.

The cool night air hit his face like a benediction, and the door closed behind him with a soft, decisive click.

Inside, Helen stood frozen in the foyer, her hands clenched at her sides, her face flushed with anger and something she refused to name. Charlie moved closer, his hand finding her elbow gently.

"Don't worry," Charlie said quietly, his voice low and soothing, meant only for Helen and Jenny. "Ethan has no money. No job. No connections. He'll be back within a week, maybe less." He paused, then added carefully, "Unless..."

Jenny turned to him sharply. "Unless what?"

Charlie's expression shifted—concerned, troubled, reluctant to voice the thought. "Unless he took something. On his way out. You know, to... survive."

The suggestion hung in the air like smoke.

Jenny's eyes widened. "That's right!" Her voice rose, shrill with sudden panic and rage. "That ungrateful thief! I need to check—Helen, we need to check the house right now! Who knows what that parasite might have stolen!"

"Mother, stop," Helen said, but her voice lacked conviction. "Ethan wouldn't—"

"Wouldn't he?" Jenny was already moving, her silk robe flaring as she hurried toward the study. "Three years of living here, knowing where everything is, and now suddenly he's leaving with nothing but a backpack? Don't be naive, Helen!"

Helen hesitated, looking torn. Charlie gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "It won't hurt to check. Just to be safe."

Helen followed her mother reluctantly, Charlie trailing behind with an expression of carefully maintained concern.

Jenny swept through the house like a storm, checking drawers, opening cabinets, her panic growing with each room. Finally, she reached the master bedroom and yanked open the closet door. The safe sat at the back, gleaming and secure.

She punched in the code with trembling fingers. The door swung open.

Jenny's face went white, then red, then white again. Her mouth opened, and what came out was a piercing, animalistic shriek that echoed through the entire villa.

"THE NECKLACE!" she screamed. "Helen, the ruby necklace—the one you bought last month, the five-hundred-thousand-dollar one—IT'S GONE!"

Helen rushed to her mother's side, staring into the safe in disbelief. Charlie appeared in the doorway, his expression perfectly shocked.

"No," Helen breathed. "No, that's—Ethan wouldn't—"

"THAT RAT!" Jenny spun around, her face contorted with fury. "That sneaking, thieving, ungrateful RAT! I KNEW IT! I knew he was planning something!" Her hands shook with rage. "Five hundred thousand dollars! Helen, call the police! Right now! That criminal needs to be arrested before he pawns it!"

"Mom, wait—" Helen's voice wavered, confusion and doubt warring in her expression. "Ethan's not like that. He wouldn't steal. There has to be another explanation—"

"Another explanation?" Jenny's laugh was vicious and unhinged. "He walked out of here with a backpack, Helen! What more do you need? A signed confession?" She grabbed her daughter's arm hard enough to leave marks. "That piece of garbage lived off your charity for three years and this is how he repays you—by robbing you blind!"

Helen stared at the empty space in the safe where the necklace should have been, her expression unreadable.

And in the background, Charlie watched silently, his face the picture of sympathetic concern.