A SON IN LAW TURNS BILLIONAIRE AFTER DIVORCE

Chapter 23

Susan pushed open the heavy front door of the apartment and stumbled inside, feeling as if every single ounce of blood had been drained straight out of her body. Her legs trembled, and she practically collapsed onto the nearest sofa, staring blankly at the floor.

Today’s preliminary court hearing had been a complete, unmitigated disaster.

Thomas Stone had walked into the courtroom fully prepared, laying out a mountain of devastating evidence against her. He presented the certified DNA test proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that eight-year-old Mark was not Leonard’s biological son. He submitted Leonard’s meticulous, bank-verified income records from the last four years of their marriage, alongside a detailed breakdown of their household expenses.

When the dust settled, her own attorney, Joe Dexter, had pulled her aside in the hallway and given her a blunt, crushing reality check: she needed to settle immediately.

The total judgment against her was coming down to four hundred and ten thousand dollars.

Susan’s mind still spun when she thought about the cold, heartless math. Out of that total, two hundred and sixty thousand dollars represented the return of marital income. Over the four years they had been married, Leonard had earned roughly seven hundred and twenty thousand dollars through his hard labor. After deducting a modest two hundred thousand for necessary household and living expenses, it left five hundred and twenty thousand dollars in net earnings—half of which legally belonged to Leonard as marital property.

Then came the remaining one hundred and fifty thousand dollars tagged on as financial compensation for emotional distress, fraud, and psychological trauma. Thomas Stone had originally opened negotiations demanding three hundred thousand for that alone, but even at half-price, it was a heavy anchor tied around her neck.

What stung the most—what truly made her want to scream—was that Thomas Stone had explicitly informed the court that Leonard didn't even intend to keep a single dime of the settlement. Every single dollar recovered from Susan was going to be publicly donated straight to charity.

That noble gesture alone made Leonard look like an angelic victim in front of the judge, while casting Susan as a ruthless, manipulative villain.

Four hundred and ten thousand dollars.

Just repeating the figure in her head gave Susan a splitting, throbbing migraine.

Did she actually have that kind of cash sitting in her bank account?

Of course not. Not even close.

Almost every single dollar she and Leonard had scraped together over the years hadn’t stayed in their savings; it had been steadily siphoned off and handed directly to her parents, who had immediately turned around and spent it funding Joseph’s endless stream of failed business ventures and lifestyle habits.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Susan forced herself to look up as her family drifted into the living room, sensing the heavy tension in the air.

“Dad, Mom, Joseph,” Susan said, her voice hollow and weak. “We’re... we’re going to lose the lawsuit. The judge is leaning entirely toward Leonard. I’m going to have to pay him four hundred and ten thousand dollars in damages and restitution.”

The living room went dead silent for a fraction of a second.

Then, Michael exploded. He jumped straight out of his armchair, his face turning an angry, blotchy red.

“What?!” Michael roared, his voice shaking the framed pictures on the wall. “Four hundred and ten thousand dollars?! Are you out of your mind?! Why doesn't that ungrateful bastard just put a mask on and rob a bank?!”

“Exactly!” Magret shrieked from the kitchen doorway, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “How dare he ask for that kind of money?! After everything we did for him?! After letting him live under our roof for nine years?!”

Susan squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her own fraying temper intact. “Listen to me! Let me explain the math! Leonard earned about seven hundred and twenty thousand over our four married years. After taking out basic living expenses, there’s five hundred and twenty thousand left. His legal half of that is two hundred and sixty thousand. Add the one hundred and fifty thousand for emotional damages because of Mark... and that brings it straight to four hundred and ten thousand!”

Michael stared at her, his chest heaving. For a moment, he didn't say anything at all.

Then, his expression hardened into stone. He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well, why are you sitting here telling us about it? That was your marital property, Susan. You made your bed, now you figure out how to pay him back.”

Susan’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. A hot, blinding wave of fury rushed straight to her head.

“Dad! Are you out of your mind?!” she yelled, leaping to her feet. “Almost all the money Leonard and I made over the last four years went straight into your pockets and Joseph’s hands! I have less than thirty thousand dollars left to my name! Where on earth am I supposed to pull four hundred and ten thousand dollars out of thin air?!”

Michael didn't even flinch. He shook his head dismissively.

“That’s not my problem, Susan,” Michael said coldly, his voice devoid of a single drop of paternal warmth. “Your brother Joseph is getting married soon. He needs every penny we have for his wedding and his new venture.”

He let out a harsh, mocking snort. “And frankly, what happens if you just refuse to pay Leonard? What is he going to do? Come storming in here to demand it himself? Let the bastard try. I’ll grab a broom and chase him right back out the front gate.”

Susan stared at her father as if she were looking at a complete stranger.

Joseph again.

It was always, always Joseph.

Ever since they were little children growing up in this city, every good thing, every penny, every ounce of support had been funneled exclusively to her younger brother. Had she really been born into this world solely to be a financial slave and a stepping stone for Joseph?!

Before Susan could scream, Magret chimed in with a cold, matter-of-fact suggestion.

“Well, what about your lover?” Magret asked, not even bothering to soften her cruel words or lower her voice. “Go ask Jonathan for the money. We raised his biological son for eight whole years under our roof. Doesn't he owe us at least that much?”

Joseph’s eyes lit up instantly, nodding along like a parasite. “Yeah! Exactly, Mom! Make him pay! Shake him down for a few hundred thousand!”

Michael pointed a rigid finger at her. “That’s right. Take the boy down to City Hall right now. Tell Jonathan that if he doesn’t hand over five hundred thousand dollars immediately, he can take his own son off our hands and raise him himself starting today.”

Susan looked around the room from her father, to her mother, to her grinning brother. Her voice dropped to a trembling whisper.

“Dad... are you kicking me out of the house again?”

This was already the second time they had threatened to throw her onto the street like trash.

“If you can’t walk back through that door with five hundred thousand dollars in your hand, don’t ever bother calling yourself my daughter again,” Michael declared cruelly, turning his back on her.

Without giving her a chance to breathe, Michael marched over, grabbed her arm, and physically shoved her toward the open front door. Magret hurried behind them, dragging a confused and whining eight-year-old Mark by the collar, and shoved the boy out into the hallway right beside his mother.

SLAM!

The heavy wooden apartment door slammed shut in her face with a deafening finality.

“Dad! Mom! Open the door!” Susan screamed, hammering her fists against the wood until her knuckles bruised.

No one answered. The apartment stayed dead silent.

A couple of curious neighbors poked their heads out of their doorways down the hall, whispering and pointing at the humiliating scene. Too mortified and shattered to stay another second, Susan grabbed Mark’s hand and stumbled toward the elevators.

Out on the cold street corner outside the building, Susan collapsed onto a concrete bench, completely out of breath and utterly defeated.

Little Mark kept whining beside her, tugging at her sleeve and complaining that he was hungry. Hearing his voice—the living reminder of her ruin—sent a sharp spike of irritation through her. She finally snapped, turning around and screaming harshly at the boy to shut his mouth.

Trembling, exhausted, and pushed to the absolute edge of sanity, Susan pulled out her phone.

Jonathan was the very last person left in the world she thought she could rely on.

She pressed his number, listening to the frustrating ringtones until he finally picked up on the other end, his voice sounding guarded and annoyed.

“Susan? What is it now? I told you not to call this line.”

Struggling to hold back her hysterical tears, Susan poured everything out. She choked out the words, telling him that her parents had brutally thrown her out onto the street, that she had officially lost the court case, and that she now owed Leonard four hundred and ten thousand dollars.

Then, her voice breaking, she asked the ultimate favor: could he please lend her the money to save her from ruin?

“Lend you four hundred thousand dollars?” Jonathan repeated, letting out a dry, incredulous laugh. “Susan, are you out of your mind? You know damn well my wife controls my personal salary accounts and investments. I can’t touch that kind of money.”

He paused, his tone turning ice-cold. “And besides... if your parents took all your money in the past, shouldn’t you be asking them to return it to you?”

Susan went completely numb.

Before she could form a single word, Jonathan twisted the knife further. “Also, I already promised my wife I wouldn’t have any contact with you or the boy anymore. Don't ever call my phone again.”

Click.

The line went dead.

Just a few days ago, sitting in that restaurant, Jonathan had been whispering sweet promises about taking her and Mark abroad to live like royalty. Now that the four hundred million dollar lottery dream was gone and the legal bills were hitting her doorstep, his attitude had flipped in a single heartbeat.

Susan sat frozen on the concrete bench, her eyes staring blankly at the empty traffic rolling past in the distance.

She sat there alone for nearly half an hour, unmoving, while the afternoon wind chilled her skin.

Slowly, very slowly, the hopeless tears in her eyes dried up. A terrifying, dead, chilling coldness crept into her expression. The warmth of human emotion inside her finally shattered completely.

“Fine,” she whispered to the empty air, her voice sounding like glass scraping across stone.

“If none of you care what happens to me... then don't ever blame me for what I do next.”

A day later, miles away across the city, Leonard was working out hard inside his private elite gym.

After nearly ten solid days of strict physical training, endurance running, and heavy lifting, he was already starting to see remarkable structural results. His abdomen was hardening, showing clear muscle definition beneath his skin, though he was still consciously building toward the peak physical condition he would need when the freezing apocalypse arrived.

A few yards away, his personal female trainer stood watching him with an expression of growing frustration and confusion.

Ten full days.

And Leonard hadn't shown a single ounce of romantic interest in her.

Over the last week, she had practically thrown every subtle and not-so-subtle hint in the book at him—adjusting her posture, brushing against his arm, complimenting his physique—yet he treated her with the exact same detached, professional courtesy as a brick wall. He was completely, obsessively focused on his workout.

Just as she was about to try walking over to strike up another conversation, Leonard’s smartphone sitting on the bench suddenly rang out loud.

Leonard stopped mid-rep, grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat, and walked over to pick it up. The caller ID flashed Thomas Stone’s name.

He swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear.

“Thomas.”

“Leonard,” Thomas’s voice came through, sounding a bit breathless, as if he had just heard some wild neighborhood gossip. “You’re not going to believe what just landed on my desk. Something massive just happened with your ex-wife.”

Leonard picked up his water bottle and took a slow sip. “I’m listening, counselor.”

“Your ex-wife’s family realized she was completely cornered and going to lose everything in court,” Thomas explained, a hint of amusement in his tone. “So, typical of the Millers, they turned on her like a pack of wolves. Yesterday morning, they threw Susan and young Mark right out of the house and told her she was on her own to find the four hundred thousand dollars.”

Leonard raised a single eyebrow. Predictable, he thought.

Thomas continued, dropping the real bombshell. “Well, things escalated quickly this morning. Desperate and broke, Susan took Mark straight to Sydvale General Hospital, tracked down Jonathan Brad in his office, and literally dumped the eight-year-old boy right into his lap.”

Leonard stopped lifting his bottle. “She left Mark with Jonathan?”

“Oh, it gets much better,” Thomas chuckled darkly. “Right in the middle of their screaming match in the hallway, Jonathan’s legal wife happened to walk by.”

According to what Thomas’s investigators had rapidly pieced together, Jonathan’s wife had struggled with infertility for years and could never bear children. Walking past and suddenly seeing her adulterous husband standing there with an eight-year-old illegitimate child completely broke her psychological breaking point.

To make matters worse, little Mark—having been taught bad habits by the Millers—pointed right at the weeping woman and started shouting insults at her in the hospital corridor.

That pushed the wife over the edge into temporary madness. In the middle of their furious, screaming argument, Jonathan’s wife lunged forward and violently shoved Jonathan out of the way.

Caught completely off guard on the high-floor staircase landing, little Mark lost his balance, tumbled backward over the edge, and fell all the way down a flight of concrete stairs.

He died right there on the scene before the paramedics could even grab a stretcher.

Leonard fell completely silent, listening to the heavy static over the phone line.

Thomas didn't miss a beat. “Afterward, realizing they were facing prison and absolute ruin, Jonathan’s family panicked. They desperately wanted Susan’s signed legal forgiveness so they could bargain for a much lighter criminal sentence for his wife. To buy her silence, they offered Susan a lump sum of one million dollars in immediate out-of-court compensation.”

“And did she take it?” Leonard asked quietly.

“Of course she did,” Thomas snorted. “Susan accepted the one million dollars on the spot. But as for Jonathan? His entire life has completely imploded. His wife filed for an immediate, brutal divorce, and the hospital board fired him on the spot this afternoon.”

“To top it all off, rumor has it that his wealthy father-in-law—the high-ranking government official who used to protect his career—has decided to personally step in and destroy him to protect the family name.”

Thomas let out a dry, satisfied laugh. “Looks like his political career is completely over. And trust me, Leonard... things are only going to get infinitely worse for both of them from this moment on.”