Humble son-in-law in the day, Billionaire at night

1

There’s broke… and then there’s married-to-the-wrong-family broke.

Being broke for a month or two? That’s normal. Even rich folks say they’re broke when their card declines. It sounds cool. Forgivable.

But when you’ve been married for two years and your wallet still screams empty? People don’t think you’re broke anymore.

They think you’re poor.

And in the Lincoln family?

They think you’re useless.

Stupid.

Insane.

And most days, they wonder why you’re even still breathing.

These are the thoughts running through Aiden’s mind as he kneels quietly on the tiled bedroom floor, polishing his mother-in-law’s shoes like his dignity isn’t already six feet under.

The shoes are designer, probably cost a million dollars, and she won’t even notice the way he’s lined them up perfectly at her feet.

“Get my bag, fool,” she snaps, not sparing him a glance.

Aiden moves like muscle memory—picks the bag from the bed, places it gently in her hand, and bows his head like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Family Servant #1.’

She walks past him, glued to her phone.

“Harper?” she calls out down the hallway, her voice softening instantly. “Are you sure you don’t need help with your makeup? We should’ve booked a professional. This night is important.”

Aiden follows behind her, quiet. If she calls and he doesn’t show up within a second? That’s a new problem.

“Honey?” she calls again, this time to her husband, “People are already arriving. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

“It doesn’t start until nine,” comes his father-in-law’s easy reply from the living room.

She scoffs. “We need to be there early if we’re going to make an impression. We don’t even know what the Vicholas guy looks like. Who knows? If we’re lucky, he might even take a liking to Harper and send for her.”

Aiden clenches his jaw.

New level of crazy unlocked, he thinks. Congratulations, Lincoln household. You’ve outdone yourselves again.

“Has Wesley called?” she asks, scrolling through her phone. “He must be there already. That man...”

She shakes her head, and Aiden already knows what’s coming next.

“If only Harper had been a little patient, she could’ve been married to Wesley by now instead of this… this nuance to society.”

She shoots Aiden a glare—one of those say-one-more-word-and-I’ll-end-you glares—but Aiden keeps his head down, cool and composed like always.

“Lock the doors after we leave and make sure this entire house is sparkling by the time we’re back,” she snaps. “All the plates. I don’t want to see a single one in the sink.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Foolish boy,” she hisses and storms out with her husband.

Aiden waits until the front door clicks shut before letting out a slow exhale. Finally. Silence. If the gods were kind tonight, maybe—just maybe—he’d sneak in two hours of sleep without drama.

But then Harper appears at the doorway, biting her lower lip, worry tugging at her features.

“What’s wrong?” Aiden asks, straightening.

“Don’t you think… this dress is too revealing?” she asks, doing a slow spin.

Aiden gulps.

Too revealing? That dress should be illegal in four countries.

But he can’t say that. Not when her mother would turn the next seventy-two hours of his life into a survival reality show.

So he just smiles. “It’s fine, Harper. You look beautiful. Go now before you’re late.”

She glances at the door, then back at him—mischief dancing in her eyes. Before he can guess what’s coming, her lips are on his.

Aiden freezes. Then melts.

His eyes widen, his heart leaps, and somehow—somehow—his tongue follows hers. His hands pull her closer like muscle memory.

They shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not when her parents could waltz back in and see their ‘family servant’ groping their precious daughter.

But damn, he can’t help it.

She finally pulls back, her forehead resting against his, both of them breathless.

Aiden blinks. His hand’s still on her waist. He jerks away. “Wh-what are you doing, Harper? Your parents are outside.”

She just smiles. That same reckless, sweet smile that got him into this marriage in the first place.

“Expect more of this—if I get that contract. Mom promised she'd stop treating you like trash if I pull this off. Maybe… we could move out. Get our own place. Just the two of us. What do you think?”

For a second, Aiden stares at her, caught in the web of her hope.

He wants to tell her. Wants to say: The man you're going to meet tonight—the one who might change your life? That’s me.

But he doesn’t. Not yet.

“Your parents are waiting,” he murmurs instead. “I don’t want them mad at you because of me.”

She sighs, reluctant. Just a little longer, she promises herself.

She’ll fix this. She’ll build Aiden back to the man she married. Living under this roof crushed his spirit, and she blames herself.

But tonight… tonight will be the start of something new.

Ten minutes after they leave, Aiden’s phone buzzes. One of the secure lines.

He picks it up.

“Good evening, sir,” a crisp voice says. “I know we agreed you wouldn’t attend tonight, but… could you reconsider? We need you at the party.”