I Killed My Dad

Theater: NovelMaster  |  Language: English  |  NEW

Synopsis

When Dad went missing, my family panicked and wanted to call the police immediately.
I just lounged on the couch, watching TV, and said casually,
"Don't bother calling the cops. Dad is totally fine."
No matter how hard they pressed me, I dug my heels in and insisted nothing was wrong.
Three days passed, and Dad was still nowhere to be found.
The second Mom dialed 911, I snatched the phone from her hands and smashed it to pieces against the floor.
"If you dare call the police, Dad is a dead man!"
Dad was the kindest person in the world to me.
Even though he was the sole heir to the wealthy Sterling family, he never had an ounce of arrogance.
Over the years, he poured his entire heart and soul into raising Claire and me, spoiling us like princesses.
He treated Mom even better. For twenty years, he never let her lift a finger around the house or swallow a single drop of grievance.
Dad even brought Mom’s entire family over to the city, buying them houses nearby.
He did it all just so Mom could visit them easily and keep her family close.
A man as sweet as an angel—and three days ago, he vanished without a trace.
It started because Claire and I were craving cake. Without a second thought, Dad grabbed his car keys and headed for the door.
"Chloe loves chocolate, Claire is obsessed with strawberry, and my gorgeous wife gets vanilla."
"Hang tight, girls. Dad will be right back with your sweet treats."
I never imagined those would be the last words he would ever say to us.
Once he walked out that door, he never returned.
We waited until late into the night. Mom started getting a bad gut feeling that something had happened to him.
"I know that bakery is on the west side of town, but it shouldn't take this long, right?"
Sure enough, Mom called his phone twenty times in a row. Every single call went straight to voicemail.
Mom and Claire completely lost it, terrified, and wanted to call 911 right then and there.
I just lay on the sofa, stretching out, and said nonchalantly,
"No need to call the cops. Dad is doing just fine."
Claire shot me a bewildered look, staring at me with suspicion.
"How do you know he’s fine? His phone is completely dead!"
"Besides, it's the middle of the night. How could this possibly look like nothing's wrong?"
I rolled over, glued my eyes back to the TV screen, and shrugged.
"Dad is a grown man. What could happen to him? He probably bumped into a friend and lost track of time talking, and his phone died."
"Besides, it’s only been a few hours. The police won't even file a missing persons report yet."
"Worst case scenario, even if they do take the report, what if Dad walks through the door right after? Filing a false police report is a crime!"
"Just go to bed. By the time you wake up, Dad will be back with our cake."
Mom didn't entirely buy my story, but she couldn't think of anything better to do.
Swallowing the sick feeling in her stomach, she led Claire back to their bedrooms.
The next day, Dad still wasn't back.
His phone remained turned off, and nobody had heard a word from him.
Claire begged to go to the police again, but I threw back the exact same line:
"Dad is totally fine. Relax."
No matter how hard Mom and Claire pleaded, I refused to budge, swearing Dad was safe and sound.
Whenever they showed even the slightest intention of calling for help, I jumped up, screamed at them, and even threatened to hurt myself.
They couldn't fight me on it, so all they could do was sit anxiously at home, waiting for him to come back.
Three whole days crawled by without a single whisper of news.
Eventually, executives from the Sterling Group came knocking.
"Where on earth has Mr. Sterling been? We have piles of crucial contracts waiting for his sign-off. If he doesn't show up soon, the financial losses to the company will be catastrophic."
That was the moment Mom finally understood how dire the situation was. Dad had definitely met with foul play.
Ignoring my protests, she grabbed a phone and called 911.
"Hello? Please help, I need to report a missing person! My husband has disappeared!"
I lunged off the couch, tore the phone from her grip, and smashed it into jagged plastic and glass.
"It's all your fault! I told you Dad was fine!"
"If you dare call the police, Dad is a dead man!"I was one step too late. The police traced the emergency call and arrived at our doorstep anyway.
They stood at the front entrance of the Sterling mansion, their faces grim.
"Who called 911? Is someone missing from this residence?"
I stepped forward to shoo them away, but Claire dashed past me, throwing herself at an officer and grabbing his arm, sobbing hysterically.
"My dad is missing! He’s been gone for three days! Please, I beg you, save my dad!"
The officers immediately escorted the three of us down to the precinct for thorough questioning.
Mom recounted every single detail of the past few days. By the time she finished, the officers were looking at me with deep confusion and suspicion.
One detective looked me straight in the eye and asked sternly, "Chloe Sterling, why did you repeatedly prevent your family from contacting the police?"
"Do you have any idea that the golden window for finding a missing person is within the first twelve hours?”
“For every hour that ticks by, their chances of survival drop drastically! If you had reported this earlier, things wouldn't have spiraled this far!"
I merely yawned in the interrogation room, wearing a bored expression.
"Why should I care if things spiral? I was in the middle of binge-watching a new show."
"If we called the cops, we’d have to come all the way down here to file boring reports. It’s such a hassle, and it ruined my TV time."
I shot Mom a vicious glare and snapped,
"This is all on you! I told you not to call them! Now look at us—stuck in a police station being grilled with stupid questions. I only had two episodes left until the season finale! What an annoying waste of time!"
Everyone in the room went dead silent, frozen in sheer shock. Mom and Claire looked at me as if I were a complete stranger.
The officer typing up the report couldn't hold back his disgust.
"We are talking about your own father's life! Are you telling me his survival is worth less than some dumb TV show?"
"Arthur Sterling is famous for adoring his daughters. I never imagined he would raise such an ungrateful, cold-blooded monster! Even as an outsider, I feel sick to my stomach watching you!"
I let out a dry smirk and slouched in the metal chair, kicking my feet back and forth as if none of this had anything to do with me.
Once the statements were taken, the police formed an emergency task force to track Dad down.
Seeing them prepare to leave, I stretched out my arms and blocked the precinct's main exit.
"I know exactly where Dad is and what shape he’s in. You’re going on a wild goose chase!"
"If you ask me, you guys should just clock out early, go home, and get some sleep. Save your breath."
Detective Frank Reynolds of the Major Crimes Division marched up to me, his stern, weathered face hardening with authority.
"Miss Sterling, you are obstructing an active police investigation. This is your first and only warning. Step aside, or you will be placed under arrest right now!"
I burst out laughing right in front of the station doors, as if he’d just told the funniest joke in the world.
"Detective Reynolds, I literally just said I know what happened to my dad. I'm just trying to save your department from wasting resources. You call that obstruction?"
Reynolds’ brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion flashing in his eyes.
He weighed every syllable carefully. "You claim you know Arthur Sterling's condition. Then start talking. Where is he, and how is he doing?"
I stretched my arms, looked Reynolds straight in the eye, and spoke in a chillingly calm voice.
"Dad is already dead."
"And I killed him."The room erupted into utter madness.
Several young officers lunged forward, slamming me face-down onto the floor and cuffing my wrists. Behind me, Mom and Claire let out blood-curdling screams.
"Chloe! What in God's name are you saying?! We are inside a police station! You can't just spew crazy lies like that!" Mom's knees gave out, and she nearly collapsed before Claire caught her trembling frame.
Claire helped Mom sink into a nearby chair, then turned to me, tears streaming down her face as she shrieked in rage.
"Chloe! Have you completely lost your mind?! There's a time and place for dark jokes!"
"Dad has been missing for days, and you're pulling a sick stunt like this? Are you even human?!"
I didn't bother looking at them. I kept my eyes fixed on Reynolds.
"My purse is sitting on the chair back in the interrogation room. Unzip it and see what's inside. Then you'll know whether I'm telling fairy tales, or the cold, hard truth."
Before I even finished my sentence, Reynolds stormed back into the interrogation room and dumped the contents of my bag onto the metal table.
Tumbler, wallet, makeup—and right in the center, a white button-down shirt drenched in dried, crimson blood.
It was a bespoke designer shirt Dad had custom-ordered from an exclusive Italian atelier. There was only one like it in the entire country.
Mom instantly fainted, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Claire's face drained of every drop of color, her voice trembling violently.
"Th-that's Dad's shirt... Why is it in your bag?!"
"Whose blood is that?! Chloe! Tell me this isn't real... please..."
Before I could answer, forensics rushed the bloody fabric to the lab to run a rapid DNA cross-check against Dad’s profile in their system.
The results came back in record time. The blood soaked into the fabric belonged to Arthur Sterling.
I was immediately processed, slapped with murder charges, and locked into a holding cell.
Claire's mental state completely shattered. She clung to the bars of my cell, screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Why?! Dad loved us so much! How could you do this to him?!"
"Do you remember when you were little and refused to eat real food? You gorged on junk until your kidneys were failing!"
"The second Dad found out, he didn't even hesitate—he demanded the doctors test him so he could give you one of his own kidneys!"
"For all these years, he would have laid down his life for this family without blinking! Why would you murder him?!"
Not long after, Grandma and Grandpa arrived in a frenzy after getting the call from dispatch.
When the detectives laid out the grim sequence of events, both elderly folks nearly collapsed on the spot.
Grandpa dragged himself over on trembling legs, using every ounce of his remaining strength to slap me across the face. Tears poured down his wrinkled cheeks as he choked on his own rage.
"Chloe Sterling, you heartless monster!"
"Arthur treated you two girls like royalty! No matter what terrible mistakes you made, he never once raised his voice at you!"
"Your grandmother and I used to tell him he was spoiling you rotten, but Arthur always said his daughters were put on this earth to enjoy life, that he would never burden you with expectations!"
"And this is how you repay him?! You subhuman beast! Why did you kill my boy?! Tell me why!"
A sudden roar of commotion broke out at the front entrance of the station.
A swarm of media reporters had caught wind of the breaking scoop and were scrambling to get the first exclusive.
They arrived just in time to catch Grandpa's desperate, agonized scream. It took them less than a second to piece together the headline of the century.
Cameras flashed, and live broadcasts fired up, shoving lenses straight toward me.
"Chloe Sterling! Reliable sources confirm you confessed to butchering your own father! Is it true?"
"Why did you do it? Mr. Sterling was renowned for his charity work and legendary love for his children! What drove you to murder such a devoted father?!"
My heart didn't beat a fraction faster. In fact, a sinister smirk curled at the corner of my lips.
I stared directly into the flashing camera lenses and chuckled.
"Why? There is no why."
"Dad spoiled me rotten my whole life. Whatever I did, he always forgave me."
"I felt like killing him, so I killed him. Do I really need a reason?"The entire precinct lobby went wild with outraged shouts.
Reporters, officers, and bystanders hurled venomous curses at me. If the police hadn't formed a protective human wall, the mob might have ripped me apart with their bare hands.
Grandpa and Grandma passed out from the overwhelming shock and grief.
As for Claire—unable to stomach the horrific reality—she broke away, raced up the stairs to the police station's roof, and jumped off right in front of everyone.
In the blink of an eye, dark blood stained the concrete of the station courtyard.
Things had spiraled into pure, uncontrollable chaos.
With the scene descending into absolute bedlam, Reynolds personally dragged me down the hallway and locked me inside the highest-security interrogation suite.
He sat across from me, answered a grim phone call, and hung up with a stony face.
"Your sister, Claire Sterling, didn't make it. The ER pronounced her dead. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
I simply shrugged, my face entirely blank.
"I didn't push her. What do you want me to say?"
Reynolds slammed his fist onto the metal table in a burst of fury, veins bulging on his neck as he fought to contain his rage.
"Your sister took her own life because of your sick, inhuman deeds! She couldn't handle the horror of what you did! Don't you feel even a shred of remorse?!"
I stretched lazily and replied in a flat drone.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Detective, but nope. Not a bit."
"If you're going to lock me up, do it already. I already confessed to murdering my dad, and I handed you the bloody evidence. Stop dragging your feet."
Reynolds looked ready to explode, but in the next second, something seemed to click in his head. The anger drained from his features, replaced by a razor-sharp chill.
He slowly sat back down, leaning in close, his piercing eyes boring into mine.
"Something's off. None of this adds up."
"Everyone in this city knows how deeply Arthur Sterling cherished you. Killing him brings you zero benefit. You have absolutely no motive."
"Furthermore, when people commit murder, they either flee the state in terror or exhibit severe psychological unraveling.”
“But you? You haven't changed at all. You stayed home, casually eating snacks and watching television for three days."
"You even willingly walked into a police station to give a statement. None of this aligns with the behavioral psychology of a killer."
"Yet you somehow produced a shirt drenched in Arthur Sterling's blood... What is really going on here?"
"Chloe, are you being coerced? Are you hiding something you can't say out loud? Talk to me. I swear on my badge I will find the truth and protect you."
A tiny twitch pulled at the corner of my eye, but I quickly masked it, repeating like a broken record:
"No coercion. No hidden secrets. You're overthinking it."
"I plead guilty. I slaughtered my dad."
"You have the confession and the bloody shirt. What more are you waiting for? Close the case so everyone can move on. Go home and get some sleep, Detective."
Hearing my dismissive reply, the wrinkles on Reynolds’ forehead deepened.
He flipped back and forth through the case file, his brow knotted in intense thought. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with a flash of realization.
"Even if you confess, and even with the bloody shirt, we are still missing the most critical link in the evidentiary chain."
"We haven't found your father's body. Legally speaking, we cannot confirm that he is deceased."
His words threw a wrench into my calculations. My flat demeanor cracked, and irritation seeped into my voice.
"Why are you being so damn difficult?! I told you he's dead, so he's dead!"
"If he were still breathing, why hasn't he contacted anyone in days? Use your brain!"
Reynolds watched every micro-expression flit across my face. That single slip confirmed his suspicion: there was a massive twist beneath the surface.
He leaned forward, his voice hard as iron. "Chloe Sterling, until we recover your father's body, I will not sign off on your murder conviction."
"Whatever twisted game you're playing, and whatever reason you have for trying to pin parricide on yourself, I am not closing this file."
A suffocating silence fell over the room.
The case had hit a brick wall. Reynolds was refusing to play along with my script.
Just as the detective stood up, turning his back to walk out the heavy steel door, an idea struck me.
"If we find Dad's corpse... you'll officially charge me, right?"
Reynolds paused and nodded.
A cold smirk played on my lips, a chilling glint in my eyes.
"Fine. Get your car ready. I'll take you to his body right now."

Chapters (4)

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

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