Orphaned Son-in-law is Billionaire Heir

Ch. 4 - The Revelation

The sales lobby had transformed into a circus, with Daintree as the ringleader and Connor as the unwilling main attraction. A growing crowd of customers, staff, and onlookers formed a circle around them.

"Look at this pathetic slug!" Daintree's voice echoed through the marble halls. "Standing there like he belongs among civilized people!"

A few of her coworkers gathered behind her, smirking at the spectacle.

"Is that really Connor Waratah?" whispered Sandra, another saleswoman. "The guy who married into the Kuranda family?"

"The very same!" Daintree cackled. "Melbourne's most famous charity case! Tell them, Connor—tell everyone how you're just an orphanage janitor who struck gold by tricking some desperate woman into marriage!"

Connor remained silent, his jaw clenched.

"What's wrong, termite? Cat got your tongue?" Daintree stepped closer, her voice dripping with malice. "Or are you finally realizing you don't belong in the same building as your betters?"

"Ma'am, maybe we should tone this down—" one of the security guards started.

"Tone it down? This cockroach is dirtying our pristine floors with his poverty stench!" Daintree pointed dramatically. "Look at those rags he's wearing! Those are work clothes from cleaning up after unwanted children and forgotten old people!"

The crowd murmured, some pulling out phones to record.

"Tell me, everyone," Daintree addressed her audience, "what kind of woman marries a man like this? Someone so desperate she'd settle for human garbage?"

Connor's hands trembled slightly, but he kept his voice calm. "Daintree, this attitude of yours could cost you your job."

The lobby erupted in laughter.

"Cost me my job?" Daintree bent over, clutching her sides. "Did you hear that, everyone? The sewer rat thinks he can threaten me!"

Sandra joined in the mockery. "What's he going to do? Report us to his orphanage supervisor?"

"Or maybe his wife will complain!" another coworker chimed in. "Oh wait, she's probably too embarrassed to admit she's married to this maggot!"

Daintree wiped tears from her eyes. "Connor, you delusional insect, let me educate you about reality. I'm one of the top salespeople here. You're a parasite who empties bedpans and feeds drooling old people!"

The crowd pressed closer, eager for more entertainment.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Daintree announced like a carnival barker. "Witness the tragic tale of Connor Waratah! Kidnapped as a child—probably because even his real parents couldn't stand him!"

Gasps rippled through the audience.

"Raised in a care home like an unwanted puppy, and now he spends his days cleaning up messes made by society's throwaways!" Daintree's voice reached a crescendo. "And the best part? He married a middle-class girl probably just for her money!"

"That's brutal," someone whispered.

"But true!" Daintree shrieked. "He's known throughout Melbourne as the useless husband of the Kuranda family! A professional dead weight who only exists because his wife needed a warm body to satisfy some old-fashioned business rule!"

More laughter erupted from the crowd.

"The funniest part," Sandra added, "is that he actually thinks he has power here!"

"Power?" Daintree screamed with laughter. "This bottom-feeding slug has as much power as the dirt under my designer shoes!"

Connor took a step forward, his voice deadly quiet. "You might want to be careful. The new company president won't appreciate this kind of behavior."

"The new president?" Daintree's eyes glittered with malicious joy. "You hear that, everyone? This delusional roach is worried about the new president! As if someone important would waste five seconds on a walking disaster like him!"

The security guards shifted uncomfortably. "Ma'am, perhaps we should—"

"Should what? Let this contamination spread through our clean establishment?" Daintree turned back to Connor. "You better crawl back to whatever hole you came from before the president arrives. Someone like you would embarrass the entire company!"

"He's probably never even seen a building this nice," Sandra sneered.

"Of course not! He's used to places that smell like medicine and broken dreams!"

Connor's voice cut through the laughter like ice. "This is my company."

The lobby fell silent for exactly three seconds.

Then Daintree exploded with the most hysterical laughter yet. "His company! HIS COMPANY! Did everyone hear that? The orphanage janitor thinks he owns Jarrah Properties!"

The crowd roared with renewed amusement.

"He's completely insane!" Sandra gasped between laughs.

"Certifiably crazy!" another voice called out.

"This is what happens when poverty rots your brain!" Daintree wiped her eyes. "Connor, you pathetic waste of oxygen, you're so delusional you need professional help!"

"Guards!" she commanded imperiously. "Remove this mentally unstable vagrant before he becomes dangerous!"

The two security guards approached reluctantly. "Sir, we're going to have to ask you to—"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Everyone spun toward the booming voice. Boroondara stood at the lobby entrance, his face purple with rage.

"Mr. Boroondara!" Daintree's voice instantly shifted to panic. "Thank goodness you're here! This crazy person claims he owns the company!"

Boroondara strode through the crowd like an avenging angel, his eyes locked on Daintree.

"What did you just say?"

"I said this delusional tramp thinks he—"

SLAP!

The sound of Boroondara's palm connecting with Daintree's cheek echoed through the marble lobby like a gunshot. The crowd gasped collectively.

"You ignorant fool!" Boroondara roared. "This man IS the new president of Jarrah Properties!"

Silence descended like a heavy blanket. Every face in the lobby registered shock, disbelief, and dawning horror.

Daintree's hand flew to her stinging cheek, her mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. "That's... that's impossible..."

"Impossible?" Boroondara's voice shook with fury. "You just spent twenty minutes publicly humiliating the man who OWNS this entire company!"

The color drained from every face in the crowd. Phones stopped recording. Whispers died in throats.

Connor stood motionless in the center of the circle, watching as the reality sank in around him.

"Mr. Waratah," Boroondara turned to Connor, bowing deeply. "I am profoundly sorry for this disgraceful display. The fault is entirely mine for leaving you unprotected."

"It's not your fault," Connor said calmly, his eyes never leaving Daintree's terrified face.

"Please, allow me to take full responsibility—"

"No need." Connor's voice was ice-cold. "But I think it's clear that people who look down on others don't deserve to stay in this company."

Daintree's legs gave out, and she sank to the floor like a deflated balloon, finally understanding the magnitude of her mistake.