The Soldier He Broke A Betrayal Too Late to UndoChapter 1
When the James family collapsed, my uncle was diagnosed with ALS.
To save him, I walked away from the military. I took out predatory loans and shouldered the burden of his care alone.
For five years, I lived in hell.
Debt collectors beat me until my ribs cracked, but I swallowed the agony because I couldn't afford painkillers. I collapsed from exhaustion on the way to my part-time jobs, yet I denied myself a moment's rest.
Every cent I earned was blood money used to keep my uncle breathing.
Then came the night I was working as a waitress at the Grand Hotel.
I froze. There, in a private booth, sat the man who should have been withering in a wheelchair at home.
General Sebastian James sat tall in his crisp military uniform, epaulets gleaming under the chandelier, sharing a laugh with his old subordinates.
"General, you've been feigning ALS for five years," one of them said, voice low. "Savannah is being bled dry trying to treat you. Hasn't she been punished enough?"
Sebastian scoffed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
"Nearly. If Savannah hadn't been so willful—if she hadn't bullied Stella into severe depression—I wouldn't have needed a staged bankruptcy and a terminal illness to break her spirit."
He took a sip, expression cold. "Stella was transferred to the Capital's Fort Valor Military District to bolster her resume and lift her spirits. She's finally agreed to forgive Savannah. Soon, I'll have the medical team orchestrate a 'miraculous recovery.' Savannah can return to her unit. After this much suffering, she should have learned her lesson."
The subordinate hesitated. "But ALS is incurable, General. Will Savannah actually buy a miraculous recovery?"
Sebastian smiled with chilling confidence.
"That silly girl? I raised her from childhood. She believes every word I say."
He leaned back, tone absolute. "Stella is a martyr's orphan, sensitive and fragile. As the older sister, Savannah needs to learn to yield. I'm doing this for her own good. In the future... I will compensate her."
I lowered my head, tears tracing silent paths down my cheeks.
But Uncle, there is no future, I thought, my heart fracturing.
Your terminal illness is a lie.
But mine is real.
——