To inherit a fortune worth an astronomical sum, I was forced to live with my late aunt's young adopted son for three years.
He was twenty-two, an art student, beautiful and quiet, and he looked at me like a well-behaved puppy.
Everyone said he was a scheming gold digger, waiting to get his hands on the inheritance.
I thought so too, and kept him at arm's length, until
I came across the hundreds of sketches he'd drawn late at night. I was the subject of every one, spanning five years.
While sorting through my aunt's belongings, I found the true attachment to her will: “He gives up everything and asks only for a chance to walk by your side.”
The media exposed the story, accusing him of killing for money. He quietly packed his bags, ready to disappear. “Sis, the inheritance is yours now. It's all yours.”
I stopped him and made the true “inheritance” public.
It turned out the most precious thing in this world isn't a mansion or a fortune. It's a brand-new life someone has carefully designed for you, staking their entire future on it.
