Raising a Wolf in the Henhouse - Part 4 (End)

admin |Dec 11, 2024

I knew that a new chapter of my life could now begin, so I turned and walked away with a serene smile, feeling no more regret or sorrow.

16.

Bhumi had a miscarriage.

The cause was Kanti, who rushed into the kitchen but suddenly slipped and crashed into Bhumi. Her stomach slammed directly into the edge of the hard countertop.

She let out a loud scream before collapsing to the floor, with blood flowing profusely.

Kanti was so frightened by her father’s scolding that she covered her face and cried. Bhumi was taken to the emergency room.

Everyone left to the hospital, while I stayed at Bhumi’s house to look after the children.

I pushed open the kitchen door to check and found a barely visible layer of oil on the floor.

It was Nikhil. He could not speak but stood still, staring at Kanti.

I couldn’t help but smile.

In the past, Kanti doted on Kanti very much, even patiently taught her not to emulate me, ending up as a useless housewife after getting married.

The contempt in his eyes at that moment still tugged painfully at my heart.

I came to stand in front of Nikhil, did not avoid Kanti’s gaze.

Nikhil appeared slightly stunned when he noticed me, his gaze holding a fleeting moment of hope before reverting to calmness.

Was he expecting something? Was he hoping that in this life, I would use all my strength to care for and love him? In that instant, I suddenly realized this gaze was not one of a child seeing a distant relative.

My heart raced at the thought that Nikhil, too, had been reborn.

I wanted to burst out laughing, God had been too kind to me.

My fingers clenched tightly into the flesh as I tried to stay calm, watching the drama unfold.

"Nikhil, does your mother not treat you and Kanti well?"

"If not, why did you spread the oil on the floor, and why did Kanti suddenly slip? Tell me, what exactly happened?"

Nikhil's face turned pale with panic. He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, waving his hands in the air as if trying to explain.

It was funny. In the past, I had cared for and nurtured him to such a great extent, he should have known I never neglected the smallest of details. He thought no one would suspect a four year old?

After a brief silence, Kanti suddenly rushed in, slapped Nikhil hard across the face, causing him to stumble backward.

"You filthy brat! How dare you!" She scolded him harshly, seemingly venting her anger. Nikhil lowered his head, not daring to respond, trembling in fear as he clung to her.

The strength of Nikhil couldn't compare to that of Kanti, a much larger child, and his eyes brimmed with resentment.

I could understand the source of all those accumulated grievances.

17.

As I guessed, even though Bhumi knew Nikhil was her brother's biological child, his life in her family still wasn’t easy.

Bhumi’s husband didn’t care about this child who had no blood connection to him. Under the influence of her father, Kanti not only took all the good things Bhuvan bought for Nikhil but also often bullied him openly, such as forcing Nikhil to wear soaked diapers all night, or intentionally pouring food over his head…

It wasn’t hard to understand why Kanti hated Nikhil so much; her disdain was quite justified.

In Nikhil’s previous life, he had never endured much resentment and the past 4 years must have been an unending nightmare. To him, Bhumi’s entire family was a target for future vengeance, waiting for him to grow strong enough to act on his hatred.

Truly, it was a matter of time before a fierce dog bared its fangs.

I watched the children fight a little bit before brushing them off casually.

Seeing the look of gratitude mixed with sorrow in Nikhil's eyes, I felt disgusted and mocked him inwardly.

Don't rush, this is just the beginning.

Bhumi couldn't keep the child, I heard it was a baby boy.

Kanti didn't take long to expose the accusation that Nikhil harmed the baby. She even claimed the grease stains near the kitchen as evidence.

Bhuvan had, of course, defended his son, scolding Kanti fiercely. He called her "petty, malicious, and vindictive," asserting that she was trying to harm her younger brother.

Kanti’s face gradually took on a shade of maddened rage. She slapped Nikhil and stabbed him in the eyes to the point of bleeding, then Bhuvan found out and rushed him to the hospital.

When this news reached me, I dialed a number and said, "It’s time."

Very quickly, they sent me a video clip.

In the video, there were footages of a middle-aged woman named Sunanda, hugging Nikhil and sobbing bitterly, then Bhuvan came along and embraced both of them, offering comfort. Anyone who saw this scene, along with the similar faces of Nikhil and Sunanda, wouldn’t have doubted for a moment that they were family.

This video was later submitted by a private investigator into the hands of another party – none other than Sunanda’s husband, a man with a criminal record who had recently been released from prison.

18.

The investigator told me that Sunanda and Bhuvan had come from the same rural village, and theirs was a love story born of shared hardship.

Later on, Bhuvan had expressed his intention to support Sunanda through her university years, while Sunanda’s parents had sold their daughter to her current husband. After her husband had to serve time in prison for intentional wrongdoing, Sunanda had been forced to become a single mother, seeking work to support herself.

Years later, the two childhood friends had reunited, rekindling their “fated love story” with Nikhil at its center.

From that point on, the professional investigator began to dig into their secrets.

With my assistance, Sunanda’s husband soon learned the truth. The man had been enraged, insisting on confronting Bhuvan directly after seeing the video, but under Sunanda's pleas, he then forced Bhuvan to pay a huge amount of money as compensation.

Bhuvan, who had fought cold wars with me for so many years for refusing to take in Nikhil, ultimately had no choice but to kneel and beg me for mercy.

His reason for borrowing money from me was to bribe his boss. "If you're not at ease, I'll write you a promissory note!" – he raised his head, his eyes kept glancing at me, hoping I could generously let go of the debt issue.

I laughed, throwing the video in his face.

"Bhuvan, I want a divorce!"

Not only did I want a divorce from Bhuvan, but I also wanted to reclaim the money he spent on Nikhil and Sunanda over the years.

According to the law, the inheritance from my parents belonged solely to me, including the house we were living in. As for our salaries, mine and Bhuvan's are considered marital property, which must be divided during a divorce. I counted it as mental compensation for the past years.

Bhuvan'd head must have been spinning like crazy, on the one hand he had to deal with the threats from Sunanda’s husband, who was an ex-convict and quite ruthless; on the other hand, there were also the medical expenses for Nikhil. This money wasn’t covered by Bhumi, and her husband refused to pay, so naturally, it all fell on him; and lastly, there’s my divorce demand.

The evidence of Bhuvan’s infidelity captured by the private investigator over the years was overwhelming, not to mention the conspicuously grown-up illegitimate child, Nikhil, ensuring a guaranteed win in court.

However, I wasn’t in a hurry. After filing for divorce with Bhuvan and submitting the case to the court, I immediately left the country without revealing my location to anyone. Indifferently cutting ties to force him into a corner needed careful planning, and in this life, I obviously had to be smarter, to guard against Bhuvan’s potential desperation to harm me, then brazenly claim my property.

Of course, I didn’t forget to instruct the private investigator to add fuel to the fire. Everything erupted at the birthday celebration of Bhuvan’s boss. During this time, Bhuvan was entangled in numerous issues, leaving him so flustered that he failed to notice the "small gift" I had the private investigator sneak into the gift box he prepared: high-definition photos capturing his boss’ extramarital affair.

According to the private investigator’s account, as soon as the gift box was opened, Bhuvan’s boss’ face darkened instantly, and his wife slapped him right in front of everyone, turning what was supposed to be a joyous birthday party into a farce, a public laughingstock.

Bhuvan was swiftly fired. It’s said his superior even announced that he would make sure Bhuvan could never find work in this industry again.

Down on his luck, on his way home, Bhuvan was intercepted by Sunanda’s husband. Unable to bear it anymore, he got into a conflict with the terrifying man, mocking him for not winning Sunanda’s heart. The man ruthlessly kicked him, sending him flying a great distance into a pile of rubbish.

I laughed to myself; the strings of fate had been pulled, and I had reclaimed the debts they owed me one by one.

Beside his hospital bed, Bhuvan was still unable to get up but begged me, recalling the bond of marriage from years ago, to grant him a way out. I smiled faintly, leaned close to his ear, and whispered:

"I heard your sister refuses to take care of your child any longer. In the end, a child who’s both mute and blind—no matter how much effort you put into raising them, they’ll only be a burden for life. Bhuvan, if you must blame someone, blame yourself for being so cruel to Nikhil in the past, unable to abandon him yet unwilling to care for him."

"What do you think? When Nikhil grows up, will he sue you for abandonment since that cold winter night of 4 years ago?"

Bhuvan’s eyes widened, his face blank and dazed, as he repeatedly murmured like he finally understood everything:

"You… you’ve known all along…"

"Yes," I laughed so much it made him want to cough up blood, "but how could you blame me. I didn’t do anything, did I? It was you who ruined your only child."

"You’re truly cruel," came a weak and resentful voice from behind—it was Sunanda. She had overheard what I said, and it was clear that she was deeply agitated.

I glanced at her indifferently. At this moment, she looked even older and more haggard than she had four years ago when I first met her in this life. Her frail body resembled a skeleton, and her face was marred with bruises.

“So, wasn’t this plan devised by the two of you? You two were the ones who personally ended your son’s life. Truly pitiful, isn’t it?”

I chuckled lightly, then turned around and left, indifferent and triumphant.

19.

Twelve years had passed, I had let go of everything and retreated to rest in France.

However, through a private investigator, I still learned about the lives of those people during these years.

Sunanda’s husband returned to prison for causing intentional injuries not long after being released. Nikhil was returned to Bhuvan to raise.

Thus, Bhuvan and Sunanda became a so-called family in a cramped slum. Every day, they scraped by on their meager earnings to fund Nikhil’s speech therapy classes.

Nikhil, with a stubborn and proud personality, always avoided seeking help. Even though the technical schools wouldn’t accept people with disabilities, Bhuvan and Sunanda had to borrow from every corner, scraping together just enough to help Nikhil study and secure a better future.

But even with a vocational certification, it didn’t help Nikhil step into any major corporation. As a result, he had to start by begging for a chance to work at a convenience store, enduring taunts about his blindness and muteness.

“He can wash dishes. He’s meticulous, and everything he cleans is spotless...”

In the store, his frail parents would bow deeply, humbly introducing Nikhil to the boss.

Nikhil gave a faint smile, his thin lips curving slightly, but his eyes hid beneath the hair that covered his face, radiating a quiet chill.

“Kanti, you should see that man's eyes… Truly, it’s so scary...” A voice suddenly rang out, one that was both familiar and distant. It was none other than Nikhil’s wife in the previous life—Farah.

Standing beside her, Kanti looked like she had seen a ghost. Stammering, she said, “Ew? I don't even want to look at that brat, you don’t know... he... ahh!”

Time seemed to rewind.

Once again, a deep blood feud arose.

This time it was Nikhil's turn to confront Kanti, his face now warped with a terrifying madness. The expression on her face was one of pure terror, unable to utter a single word. Fortunately, the other people managed to control him before he could attack Kanti.

Finally, Nikhil collapsed on the floor with a crazy laugh, his face twisted with despair.

Of course, none of these events could stir even a hint of sympathy within me.

I knew that a new chapter of my life could now begin, so I turned and walked away with a serene smile, feeling no more regret or sorrow.