Viola Smith’s POV
The doctor looked at me with pity as I swallowed a heavy dose of painkillers.
Three days left to live. That was what they had told me.
I took the elevator up to the VIP floor. My dad, Charlie Smith, was slicing fruit for Jane. Meanwhile, my mom, Wendy Carter, was curled up beside her, watching a movie.
The moment I opened the door, the happy chatter stopped.
“Didn’t you say you were on your deathbed this morning? What now? No one believed your lie, so you came back to pick on Jane again?
“Viola, from this moment on, your father and I aren’t leaving Jane’s side. You won’t get another chance to hurt her,” Mom said coldly, stepping in front of the bed to block me.
“We’re the Smith family—nobles of Moonfall Pack. We have standards, and we’re respected. But you? You’ve always been hot-tempered and jealous. You even faked being sick just to steal the Miracle Elixir meant for Jane!”
Dad stood beside Mom, just as defensive, like a hen guarding their chick.
And behind them, Jane stuck out her tongue at me with a smug little smile.
I smiled bitterly. I had heard this before. Every time, I would shout back. I would tell them I never touched Jane and try to prove how fake she really was.
But all I got in return was my parents’ distrust and disgust.
More distance. Less love.
And now?
I was dying.
There was no point in explaining anything anymore.
“Anyway, it’s good that you’re here. Saves me the trouble of calling you. I have something to say,” Dad said with a cold expression.
“I actually have something to say too,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “Jane’s always wanted my fur business, right? Well, I’ve been thinking. Since we’re family. I’ll give it to her.”
The cold expression on my parents’ faces cracked momentarily. They exchanged glances then looked at me.
“You’re serious?” Dad asked. “Is this some kind of trick? Are you asking for something in return?”
They couldn’t believe it. Their first reaction was to think I was playing a trick on them, and I couldn’t blame them.
Jane had been eyeing the fur company I had built from scratch for years. My parents had tried everything to convince me to hand it over.
Every talk ended in a fight, and every fight chipped away at whatever family love we had left.
But now?
I was dying.
What good was a business to a dead woman?
“You should’ve done this a long time ago,” Dad said softly. His voice relaxed, and his eyes finally looked kind.
Mom stepped forward and gently held my hand. “You’ve grown up. You’re finally acting sensible.”
She smiled warmly. “I know you created the company, but Jane’s been top of her class in finance and business at university. If anyone can take your company and turn it into the top fur brand in the country, it’s her.”
I nodded quietly and handed the signed transfer papers to Jane. As I stared at my signature on the bottom of the paper, I caught sight of
