“Go Down To The River With The Crocodiles,” My Daughter-in-law Whispered As She Pushed Me
“Go Down To The River With The Crocodiles,” My Daughter-in-law Whispered As She Pushed Me Into The Amazon River. My Son Just Looked And Smiled. They Thought My $2 Billion Was Theirs. But Later That Day When I Got Home… I Was Sitting On The Chair Waiting… The Amazon River stretched endlessly before me, its dark waters pulsing with a sense of ancient power. My son and daughter-in-law had insisted on this luxurious trip to South America, claiming it would be a great bonding experience. I thought it was just another one of their well-intentioned but shallow efforts to reconnect. But as I stood at the edge of the boat,
looking out at the vast jungle beyond, I could sense that something wasn’t quite right. The day had been filled with forced smiles and pleasant chatter, but a nagging suspicion settled in my gut. I had worked my entire life to build a fortune—two billion dollars to be exact—and I had always believed my family was proud of me. But lately, I’d noticed a change in their demeanor. The casual remarks about money, the longing glances, and the subtle hints that maybe it was time for me to hand over the reins. I tried to dismiss it, but deep down, I feared the worst. It was when we reached the part of the river where the crocodiles were known to roam that everything fell apart.
My daughter-in-law, a woman who had always been overly polite, leaned in close to me, her breath hot against my ear. “Let’s go down with the crocodiles, shall we?” she whispered, her voice thick with a strange sweetness that I didn’t quite trust. Before I could react, I felt a sharp push in my back. I stumbled forward, arms flailing as I fell into the murky water of the Amazon. I fought to regain my balance, but the current was relentless, pulling me deeper into the abyss.
Panic set in as I realized that this wasn’t an accident. My own flesh and blood had betrayed me, and they thought I would drown, my wealth now theirs for the taking. I gasped for air as the boat pulled away, my son’s figure barely visible in the distance. He wasn’t even looking at me—he was smiling, satisfied, thinking he had won. But I wasn’t dead yet. I refused to let them take what I had built. With everything I had, I clawed my way toward the riverbank, muscles aching, lungs burning. When I finally emerged from the water, drenched and shaking, I knew this was only the beginning.
The jungle stood as a towering fortress around me, teeming with unseen life and echoing with the distant calls of wild creatures. My heart pounded as I dragged myself onto the muddy riverbank, my thoughts racing faster than the river’s current. Anger and betrayal mixed with a fierce determination. I had been a survivor all my life, and I wasn’t about to let this setback defeat me.
I took a moment to collect myself, the enormity of what had just happened settling in. My mind replayed the scene over and over: my daughter-in-law’s whisper, the shove, my son’s smile. They had planned this meticulously, banking on my demise to secure their inheritance. But they had underestimated me. I had not spent decades navigating the cutthroat world of business to be taken down by a pair of greedy amateurs.
As the afternoon sun began to dip, casting long shadows through the dense canopy, I devised a plan. First, I needed to find a way back to civilization. With a deep breath, I started moving, guided by the distant rumble of motorboats and voices. Survival instincts kicked in, honed by years of strategic decision-making and risk assessment. I kept low, avoiding any open areas where I might be spotted, and moved carefully through the underbrush.
Night began to fall, and the jungle came alive with a symphony of sounds. The cries of nocturnal animals echoed around me, keeping me alert and on edge. I knew the dangers that lurked in the dark—the predators, the insects, the treacherous paths—but fear was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Hours later, exhausted and battered, I emerged onto a dirt road. It led to a small settlement where I managed to find help. My appearance must have been shocking, but cash can be very persuasive. I arranged for a ride back to the city, where I could regroup and plan my next move.
When I finally arrived at the hotel where we were staying, I bypassed the front desk and headed straight to the room, dripping water and mud across the polished floor. It was there, in the quiet confines of the suite, that I sat and waited. A fire blazed within me, fueled by the betrayal but also by the thrill of turning the tables.
Soon, the door opened, and my son and daughter-in-law entered, their laughter echoing down the hall. They froze when they saw me, their faces draining of color. I sat in a plush chair, my clothes still damp, a glass of whiskey in hand. I let the silence stretch, savoring their confusion and fear.
“Hello,” I said, my voice steady and calm. “I think we need to talk.”
Their plan had failed spectacularly, and now it was my turn to show them what real power looked like. My mind raced with possibilities, but one thing was certain: I would protect my legacy, no matter the cost. The battle for my empire had just begun, and I was ready to fight.
