My Uncle Died ,His Lover Threatened My Family

It was the day after New Year's when my uncle Jack burst into our place and slapped me across the face, shouting about my disheveled hair.

Fed up with our long-standing feuds, I impulsively got a haircut that night—defying his superstitious beliefs that starting the year with drastic changes brings bad luck to him.

Ironically, he died in a mishap the very next day, and Jack's wife, Linda came knocking for a million bucks.

"We're talking about a life here! You owe me a million!"

I laughed coldly and retorted without missing a beat, "Alright then, I'll just get a hair transplant and bring him back!"

Bring back my dear uncle Jack!

***

The day after New Year's had me wrapping up an all-nighter on a project.

Mom asked me to attend to the guests, but no sooner had I shown up than Jack, citing my unkempt hair, smacked me hard twice.

"You little punk, always loafing around at home! Consider that slap a favor from your folks."

It took me a moment to catch my breath.

He was sprawled on our sofa like he owned the place, feet up on the coffee table, mumbling away.

"Got dough for a car but not a dime to lend? I've been saying all I need is a bit of seed money. Too stingy to help, sis?"

Catching sight of me, he spat disdainfully, "Can't you see your elders here? Get moving and pour me a drink! Standing there like a deer in headlights. Did my sister really raise a dimwit? Ha!"

Jack was pushing forty and only tied the knot last year—no lady wanted a gambler and a brute like him.

I had taken too many hits from him growing up, just because I was a stubborn kid.

I might have been scared as a child, but now?

Clenching my teeth, I stood up, lunged at him, and pinned his arm. He struggled, but at twenty, I was strong enough to squash him like a bug.

"Which hand did you hit me with?"

"This one?"

His eyes widened with fear. I growled, "Then I'll just cripple it!"

He shrieked in pain, crying out for my mom to intervene.

She hurried over, stopping a nasty fight.

"Son, don't stoop to his level. He's just set in his ways."

They wanted peace during the festivities, but I wasn't in a forgiving mood.

I smirked, a mischievous plan forming. "Oh, so you think my hair's messy? Fine, I'll go get it cut right now!"

Jack's eyes bulged, nearly gasping for air, "What? Don't you know that starting the year with drastic changes brings bad luck to me?"

I snorted in contempt.

Jack's anger boiled over, and he lunged toward me, ready to strike again. But I wasn't about to let history repeat itself.

As he raised his hand, I reacted swiftly, kicking him solidly and knocking him flat on the ground.

He lay there, too winded to even curse.

I wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

He strangled my dog when I was seven. At the age of ten, he had buried me in a sandbox, leaving me missing overnight.

At fifteen, his kick sent me sprawling into shattered glass, scarring my hand with a long, painful mark.

Jack, it's time to settle these old and new scores.

I hit the streets with cash in hand, hunting for a barbershop.

But even after scouring the town for hours, every shop was closed.

The more I looked, the more ticked off I got—what used to be a superstition about remembering your uncle turned into a curse about killing him!

Finally, luck was on my side, and I stumbled upon a barbershop that was still open.

The owner looked at me like I was a ghost.

They were right in the middle of their holiday feast, and the whole family gathered around.

"Hey, kid, you here for a trim?"

Watching their cozy family scene, a twinge of jealousy hit me, and I softened my voice.

"Yeah, buzz it all off, please."

The barber hesitated, but eventually, he got to work and shaved my head.

Walking out, I rubbed my bald scalp.

It was chillingly cold...

Just like that, I called up some pals who were free to hang out.

Going home was out of the question—if my uncle caught wind, it'd spark another battle royale.

We caught a comedy flick, something to lighten the mood.

Coming out of the cinema, trouble found us.

A car was swerving down the road, nearly clipping us.

My eyes aren't the best at night, but that car looked awfully familiar.

It resembled the one my aunt Susan bought for Jack.

Seconds later, it was gone.

I let it go, booked a motel room, and picked up some barbecue.

That's how I spent the night chilling with friends.

I slept like a rock, only to wake up to explosive news.

Jack had died in a car accident.

I got a panicked call from Mom first thing in the morning. "Son! Your uncle was drunk driving last night and got into a fatal crash! His wife is already here shaking us down for cash! You better come home quick!"

I rushed my farewells and sped back home.

Seeing my buzz cut, my parents' worry deepened.

"Oh, why on earth did you have to shave your head now?"

Linda emerged from the living room, her face a mess from crying, spewing venom.

"Your son killed my husband! I won't rest until I see a million dollars!"

The ink wasn't even dry on Jack's death certificate, and there she was, on our doorstep, making demands.

Something smelled fishy.

I retorted, "What, if I go get a hair transplant, will that bring Uncle Jack back? Heck no, you won't get a dime from us!"

Ignoring her, she stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.

In a flash, she had it pressed against Mom's throat.

"Not paying, huh? Let's see how you like losing someone dear!"

Panic set in. Dad softly tried to reason with her.

"Okay, okay, you said a million, just give us some time. We'll get it."

Linda, half-believing, didn't remove the knife until it nicked Mom, leaving a bloody scratch.

"Make sure you keep your word, or next time, it won't be just a scratch!"

After a tense goodbye to Linda, Mom turned to me, her face lined with worry, "She's off the rails... what if she does something even crazier next time..."

"Don't worry, we'll rely on the cops. She's made her move, but we've got our bases covered."

Mom broke down, nodding through her tears.

I had a solid plan; even if Linda made more noise online or took us to court, we'd be protected by the law.

Just when things seemed to calm down—

Linda dropped another bombshell: she was pregnant.

"What? She's pregnant?"

Susan and Grandma showed up, dropping the bombshell.

Linda, smug, caressed her belly.

"That's right, the last heir to our family. If you want this baby, you know the drill."

Grandma looked pained and uncertain, her eyes darting between me and Susan.

"It's true... he was the last of our line. Jack's gone."

Her implication was clear—we should keep supporting Linda until the child was born.

We all knew that agreeing was a one-way ticket to endless financial drain.

The cost of future baby formula and Linda's retirement care... these expenses are substantial.

Desperate, Grandma turned to her daughters, "Are you heartless? This is our family's future! Agree now, or are you trying to kill me with worry?"

I thought about how Grandma had squeezed everything she could out of her daughters.

Now, with her son gone, she still expected them to prop up her daughter-in-law. Ridiculous.

Grandma's gaze then landed on me, filled with more accusation, "You and your haircut! It's your fault! Jack was too decent to just go out and drink and drive!"

Realizing this was going nowhere and bracing for more fallout, Susan and Mom shared a look and finally said, "Mom, go back home. Let us think this through."

With that, Grandma and Linda left.

Once they were gone, Susan revealed a staggering secret to my mom.

Jack had been infertile all along!

After much prodding, Susan finally spilled the beans, "During a routine work physical, it came out that Jack had fertility issues—his sperm count was too low to get anyone pregnant."

I was stunned and blurted out, "So Aunt Linda must've cheated on him."

Our top priority was finding proof of her affair.

"Look at this!"

Mom gasped, showing us her phone.

It was a video Linda posted. In the clip, she was dressed in tattered clothes, looking pitiful.

Odd, since she'd been wearing a fancy fur coat when she left our place.

"My nephew and my husband had a fight, and that brat went and cut his hair during the New Year! Everyone knows starting the year with drastic changes brings bad luck to your uncle! My husband died the day after he did it!"

The internet was divided.

Some called it out as outdated superstition, saying this whole hair-cutting curse was nonsense.

Others sided with the grieving, pregnant widow, lashing out at us for not supporting her.

[Everybody knows utterly changing your look in New Year is a jinx! This is a long-standing tradition! And yet here comes some disrespectful kid messing with fate. What a tragedy!]

[Look how shabby her clothes are; clearly, she's being mistreated by her in-laws. I support her! The family should pay up!]

[How are people supposed to enjoy the holidays like this? Pay her off already! You can't just kill someone and walk away! Actions have consequences!]

Seeing public opinion shift in her favor, I knew Linda was playing her cards.

She was trying to use the media to corner us into signing a custody deal.

We had to act fast and put a stop to this.

Early the next morning, I set out to visit Linda's hometown.

But as soon as I opened the door, there she was.

She was holding a can of red paint, scrawling "An eye for an eye!" on our front door.

"Give me back my husband! Give me back my happiness!"

I scowled, stepping closer, and she quickly backed away.

I wasn't about to hit a woman.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and recorded her vandalism.

She saw me filming and tried to snatch my phone, desperate to stop me.

"What the hell are you filming? You can't invade someone's privacy!"

"And you think splattering paint on someone's doorstep isn't illegal?"

My smug smile rattled her, and knowing she couldn't take me on, she dropped the paint and ran.

I sent the video to our family group chat with the caption.

[Mess with us, and you're in for a fight.]

After putting my phone away, I noticed her getting into a sketchy black car.

My gut told me this was a lead worth following.

I hailed a cab and trailed her.

Sure enough, Linda got out with some guy, and they were arguing, tugging at each other.

I was too far away to hear them clearly, but I caught bits about "the baby" and "inheritance."

That perked me up. I realized that the house had been paid for in full by my mom, and the car was bought outright by Susan.

Legally speaking, with Jack gone, we had every right to reclaim these assets.

Linda was probably afraid we'd seize the house and car, so she was trying to squeeze as much compensation from us as possible.

At that moment, it hit me—I remembered seeing a shadow in the passenger seat of Jack's car the night he died.

There were definitely two people in that car.

Maybe Jack's death wasn't just an accident.

Jack's death was suspicious; the guilty must face justice.