Legacy

"Ryan!"

Splash!

"Wake up, you spineless trash! How can you take a nap in a time like this?"

Ryan took a sharp breath and coughed as he was wrenched awake with a glass of water. Of course, a glass of water was thrown at his face by his very own wife.

"Violet, what are you–"

"It's seven already?"

Shit.

Ryan quickly rose and stood up from the bed. In his haste, he almost knocks Violet.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry!"

"Do you really want to touch me that much?!"

What a useless question?

Violet was beautiful – no, she was gorgeous. Her blonde strands waved past her shoulder blades. Her face was free of any imperfection, apart from the small mole under her right eye, which he adored. Her blue eyes were framed by long eyelashes, teasing him with every blink. And those lips, ah, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

Oh, her lovely lips moved. What was she saying again?

Ryan snapped out of his reverie, summoning the wrath of the gorgeous woman in front of him.

"–dare you to look at me with that kind of face, you useless scum of a husband? You have no right to touch me, much less lust over me!"

What?

He didn't drool, did he?

No matter. He would never get used to seeing her gorgeousness like this, even for a hundred years in the future.

"Hey!"

Ryan straightened his back, "Sorry. I have to go."

"Yes, you are. Be glad I don't hit you this time!"

That was the truth.

The last time he accidentally slept in, Violet didn't hesitate to smack his face and hit his head so bad he saw double vision for a minute. A glass of water to wake him up was nothing compared to her hit.

Ryan didn't say anything else and rushed downstairs. Once in the kitchen, he washed his hands and face before making meals. It was a wonder that no one was–

"You scum of a son-in-law!"

Oh, there they were. His dear in-laws. They stood with deep frowns and hands by their hips, ready to give him an ear.

"What were you doing just now? Do you know what time it is?"

Ryan opened the fridge door and took out some vegetables and marinated red meats. While doing so, he glanced at the clock above the island counter. Indeed, it was ten past seven. "It's–"

"Where's our dinner?" His father-in-law asked, rolling his newspaper in hand and tapping it against his other hand.

If Ryan was a little kid, he was sure he'd get a good spank with the rolled paper.

Ryan merely said," Sorry, I'm making it now," as he went to get a knife. In a time like this, he should say, 'Why don't you ask your wife, if you don't want to hire some maids, father?' However, he had no privilege to even think about it.

"See, he's a useless son-in-law. I don't know why father insist on marrying our lovely Violet t some scum like him," his mother-in-law commented, looking at him with a mean side-eye.

"It's his last wish before his dying breath. We can't do anything against father, else, he'd scratch our names off of the inheritance will." The more rational father-in-law said, placating his wife.

Once again, being reminded of why Ryan even existed in this house and became their daughter's husband, his mother-in-law huffed and walked out of the kitchen area. On her way out, she also yelled, "If we don't see our dinner on the table in fifteen minutes, you'll be spending the night outside."

Right. He had to move fast.

"Be thankful I don't throw you on the street the moment my father pass away," his father-in-law kindly reminded.

Ryan stayed silent. Although he knew the only reason his in-laws didn't do that was because his marriage to Violet had to last for three years. Only after that would they get the inheritance in their grabby hands.

"Ryan!"

A smile broke out of his face. It was Violet. "Yes?"

"Did you forget something?"

He tilted his head, still chopping carrots and bok choy as the beef sizzled on the buttered pan. "What do you mean?"

"Where's my fuscia coat?"

Ah. Damn it. He forgot about that too. He should have thoroughly checked his daily to-do list, or he'd get in trouble again.

"Did you forget to take it from the dry cleaner?"

Ryan bit his bottom lip, looking apologetic at his wife. "Sorry. I'll get it once I finish making dinner for Mr. and Mrs. Crowne."

He was forbidden to call his own in-laws 'mother' and 'father,' or even by their given names.

Violet wouldn't be joining the dinner here tonight. She was going out with her fellow cast members, gathering in a high-class club, and having fun like there was no tomorrow. Well, he'd be with her if he was an actor whose film was nominated for several awards.

"Oh?" Violet strolled into the kitchen. Her domineering steps and wavy blonde hair made her look like a lion to her prey, only stopping once she was almost nose-to-nose with him. "What did you say again?"

"I-"her hand reached his worn t-shirt's collar to pull him to her eye level. He gulped, dreading the punch he'd get in the stomach if he said what she didn't want to hear. "I'll get your coat now."

"Good boy."

Ryan let go of the chopping knife and turned off the electric stove. He rushed out of the kitchen, not heeding the threat from his parents-in-law earlier. Violet was more important. He'd sleep out of the house tonight, that was for sure. With cold and mosquitos as his company.

Really, he'd do anything for his wife.

Even if he was treated like scum in this house, being regarded as nothing but a slave. He'd do anything for her.

For his dear Violet.

So, after rushing to the dry cleaning place and got her coat cleaned, Ryan pedaled his bicycle as fast as he could. He was running against time.

Violet must be waiting for him.

Well, she was waiting for the fuchsia coat she insisted on wearing to the meet-up with her fellow cast members, really. Sadly, it got some minuscule stain on the back of its collar, and she couldn't stand the thought of it. No one would see it, but she insisted on getting it dry-cleaned.

So, there he was. Pedaling through the uphill road on a chilly evening. He was sweating from the motion, so he didn't mind that only a thin grey t-shirt was covering his body.

Ryan slowed down when the Crowne family's residence was in sight. The simple but strong gate was left open so he could blast through it on his way in. Passing the front entrance, Ryan rushed to the backyard, stopping and leaving the bicycle against the white-painted brick wall.

The moment he set foot inside the house, he was welcomed by two frowns from his parents-in-law. "Do you know what time it is?"

His brown eyes flicked to the clock above where they stood with hands on their hips. Seven forty-two. He had to get the dry-cleaned coat to Violet now, or she could be late. What an unsightly thought.

"You useless scum, get back here make us dinner!"

Ryan ignored his father-in-law's stern voice, getting his priority straight. Avoiding Violet's wrath was a thousand times better than his in-laws. Surely they would rage and curse him to their heart's desire, but Violet would add a severe high-five to his face just because she could.

Arriving in front of a tall door with simple yet elegant carvings, he knocked softly.

There was no answer.

He tried again, this time a little harder, afraid that his wife was sleeping and didn't want to be disturbed. After all, she was partying till midnight and only returned an hour later. Still, no answer from the inside.

When he tried for the third time and got no answer that followed, Ryan stepped closer and pressed his ear to the door. He listened, afraid that something terrible was happening inside her bedroom.

“Aaaash… oh God…”

He heard Violet’s voice. In a tone that he never heard outside of her film, playing the role of a naughty girl doing something with the lead character in dark and closed space. Ryan’s heart skipped a beat at the unwanted imagery.  

"Yes… I’m close, honey…”

Another man was inside his wife’s bedroom. Ragged breath followed his smooth voice, as if he exerted himself in there.

“Aaaaaash!”

“Ugh…”

Ryan heard them clearly. His wife, Violet, and an unknown man he has yet to meet doing something unspeakable.

They were fuc–