Chapter 3

Seeing the hard approach wasn't working, my mom switched to a softer tactic.

She took out a bank card, where I'd deposited almost 80% of my salary in the "family account."

My mom actually said my brother planned to use this money to buy me an apartment, hoping I'd be grateful enough to take the blame for Logan?

I picked up my phone, walked over to the credit card machine, "Insufficient balance."

I frowned, checking the transaction details, seeing a long list of expenses on the screen.

Luxury boutiques, fine dining, bars, karaoke, game top-ups...

Thirty-eight thousand, already spent.

I wanted to slam the door and never return to this home again.

But today, if I didn't admit to this, it seemed I wouldn't be able to leave. I came up with a plan.

"You want me to take the blame? Fine."

I suddenly laughed, tears almost coming out.

"After all, I'm just a useless daughter. Our family is still counting on my brother to bring glory to the family name. For our family's legacy, I admit it!"

I pretended to be tearful, the more broken I appeared, the more easily they'd fall for it.

My mom and Aunt Lydia exchanged a satisfied look, thinking they had me where they wanted.

"That's right, we're family. It's good you understand."

But today, if I don't take responsibility for this, it seems I won't be able to leave the house. A plan started to form in my mind.

"You want me to take the blame? Fine."

I suddenly laughed, tears almost spilling over.

"After all, I'm just the useless daughter. Our Logan family is still waiting for my brother to bring honor to the family. For the sake of the Logan lineage, I'll admit it!"

I deliberately acted more desperate, knowing the more I played the part, the more likely they were to believe me.

My mom and Aunt Lydia exchanged a glance, satisfied smiles on their faces, thinking they had me cornered.

"That's the spirit, we're family after all. It's good you understand."

"But, Mom, Aunt Lydia, I'll take the blame, but I need to know the full story: what explosives were used, and... why did Logan blow up the manhole cover?" I asked, fixing them with a piercing gaze.

"Well, it's nothing much. Logan, that kid, wasn't he live-streaming, trying to add some excitement? He wanted some explosive effects to attract followers," Aunt Lydia finally confessed, though she downplayed the situation.

Then my mom reluctantly recounted the sequence of events.

Just as I suspected, Logan had planned a "Valentine's Day Extravaganza" for his TikTok stream to draw attention. He bought some fireworks, not realizing there was a septic tank under the manhole cover.

"Mom, you'd better be honest with me. Whether I can 'successfully' take the blame and 'pull strings' with the insurance company depends on it."

I emphasized "take the blame" and "pull strings" to make sure they knew I was "playing the role."

"Alright, actually... it was a little 'homemade bomb,' like those kids play with during the New Year, just with a bit more power."

I didn't plan to probe any further; I already had the gist.

Next, I needed to get the explosives report to see what they really used.

The next day, I excused myself, saying I needed to check the "details" of the insurance claim, and returned to work.

When I saw the words "nitroglycerin" and "glycerin," I couldn't help but smirk.

Logan, that kid, really had nerve. To become an internet celeb, he dared to possess and use explosives.

This wasn’t just a simple public safety matter anymore; it might escalate to a criminal issue.

Back home, I acted nonchalant, continuing the charade with them.

Logan was in the living room, live-streaming with his "top fan sis," oblivious to my little actions.

I discreetly unlocked his phone, opened the PayPal account, and began reviewing recent transactions.

Logan, that kid, bought so many highly dangerous fireworks.

What infuriated me was he used my account to buy these dangerous goods, clearly trying to drag me down with him, making me the fall guy.

It was clear Logan had planned everything: from buying explosives, orchestrating the stream, to shifting the blame afterward—every step meticulously calculated.

Such a schemer!

Since that’s the case, there’s no need for me to be polite anymore.

"Logan, you brought this on yourself," I thought coldly to myself.