2026-04-02 21:30:21Jason forced himself upright, his whole body screaming in protest as pain shot through his ribs and down his legs. Rainwater dripped from his hair into his eyes, but he ignored it as he staggered toward his motorcycle.
One way or another, he needed to get the money for his mother's surgery within an hour. And there was only one place he could go: The Rotterdam mansion.
The thought burned in his mind like a final, desperate hope.
Tonight was Melissa’s grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday. The entire Rotterdam family would be there. They were all wealthy, powerful, and surrounded by luxury that people like Jason could barely imagine.
Surely… surely they wouldn’t let his mother die.
They had money. Endless money.
All he needed was eighty thousand dollars.
Jason climbed onto the motorcycle with shaking hands and started the engine. The machine coughed and sputtered, but it finally roared to life as he gripped the handlebars tightly.
“Please, God,” he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse with desperation. “Just this once… let them help her.”
The ride across the city felt like a nightmare.
Rain hammered his face like needles as traffic lights blurred into streaks of red and green. Every bump in the road sent fresh waves of pain through his bruised body, but Jason pushed forward, his mind repeating the same desperate prayer again and again.
Please let them have mercy.
Please don’t let my mother die.
By the time the Rotterdam mansion appeared through the rain, it looked like something from another world.
The massive estate blazed with golden light, every window glowing against the dark night. Luxury cars filled the long curved driveway: sleek black Mercedes, polished Bentleys, and even a shining Rolls-Royce parked near the front entrance.
Each car probably cost more than Jason would earn in ten years.
His battered motorcycle rattled to a stop at the front gate like a dying animal.
The security guard stepped out of the booth, instantly recognizing him. The man’s lips curled into a sneer as his eyes traveled over Jason’s soaked clothes and muddy boots.
“You’re not on the guest list,” the guard said flatly, folding his arms across his chest.
Jason stepped forward quickly, his voice trembling with urgency. “I need to see the family,” he pleaded, rain dripping down his face. “Please. It’s an emergency.”
The guard shook his head with clear annoyance. “You were told not to come tonight,” he replied coldly. “Mrs. Melissa’s orders.”
Jason’s chest tightened painfully.
“My mother is dying,” he said, his voice cracking as desperation spilled through his words. “She needs surgery within the next hour or she won’t survive. I just need five minutes. Please… just let me speak to them.”
The guard hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.
After a moment, he sighed and lifted his radio. “Gate to main house,” he muttered reluctantly. “Jason Luther is here… yeah, that one.”
A pause.
The guard rolled his eyes, then waved Jason through with a look of disgust. “Fine. Go in,” he said impatiently. “But don’t make a scene.”
Jason didn’t answer.
He abandoned his motorcycle near the gate and ran toward the mansion, his wet shoes slapping against the polished stone driveway. Mud splashed onto the immaculate white steps as he climbed them, leaving ugly tracks across surfaces that probably cost more than his entire life.
The massive front doors were unlocked.
Jason pushed them open and stumbled into the foyer.
The interior was breathtaking.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. Marble floors stretched across the vast hall like polished ice. Elegant paintings covered the walls, each one framed in gold.
Water dripped from Jason’s clothes onto the spotless floor as he stood there, looking like a storm had followed him inside.
Laughter and music echoed from the grand ballroom ahead.
Jason moved toward the sound, his heart pounding harder with every step.
When he reached the double doors, he pushed them open.
The room fell silent instantly.
The music stopped.
Dozens of heads turned.
The Rotterdam family stared at him like he was something filthy that had crawled in from the street.
Women in glittering gowns. Men in perfectly tailored suits. Jewelry flashed beneath the chandeliers as their shocked expressions slowly twisted into disgust.
At the center of the room sat Grandmother Eleanor Rotterdam in an ornate chair that looked almost like a throne. Her silver hair was styled perfectly, and a diamond necklace glittered against her elegant dress.
She looked less like an elderly woman and more like a queen presiding over her court.
Standing beside her was Richard Blackwell, one arm casually wrapped around Melissa’s shoulders.
Melissa herself looked stunning.
Her long red dress hugged her figure perfectly, and the diamonds around her neck sparkled like ice.
For a moment, Jason simply stared at her. The memories of everything that had happened at Richard's mansion minutes ago replayed in his mind, but he pushed it away.
Then Catherine Rotterdam stepped forward, her lips tightening as she looked him up and down.
“Jason?” she said sharply, wrinkling her nose in clear disgust. “What on earth are you doing here?” Her eyes swept over his soaked clothes before she added coldly, “You look like a drowned rat.”
Jason staggered forward a few steps, struggling to keep his balance. “I’m sorry for interrupting,” he said quickly, his voice shaking with humiliation and desperation. “I’m really sorry. But I need help.”
He swallowed hard, forcing the words out.
“My mother… she’s dying,” he continued, his voice breaking as emotion overwhelmed him. “She needs surgery in the next hour or she won’t make it. I need eighty thousand dollars.”
The room went completely still.
Jason’s hands trembled as he looked around at the sea of wealthy faces.
“I’ll pay it back,” he promised urgently. “I swear I will. I’ll work for the rest of my life if I have to. Just please… please help me.”
Three seconds of silence passed.
Then someone laughed.
The sound came from one of Melissa’s brothers, who shook his head in disbelief before bursting into loud, mocking laughter.
Others quickly joined in.
Within seconds the entire room erupted.
They were laughing at him.
People pointed openly at his muddy shoes and bruised face. Some whispered to each other behind their champagne glasses while others simply stared with cruel amusement.
Jason felt like his chest was collapsing.
“Eighty thousand dollars?” Marcus Rotterdam, Melissa's father, said loudly between chuckles, swirling the wine in his glass. “For your mother?”
He shook his head in disbelief as he looked Jason up and down.
“Jason, my boy,” Marcus continued with mocking amusement, “I spend more than that on wine every month.” His smile turned cold. “Why exactly would I give it to you?”
Jason’s voice trembled as he forced himself to answer. “Because… I’m family,” he said weakly. “I’m married to your daughter.”
“Not for long,” Melissa said calmly.
The words struck Jason like a physical blow.
Melissa stepped forward gracefully, Richard still standing close beside her. She reached into her clutch and pulled out a white envelope.
“I was actually planning to give this to you after the party,” she said casually, her tone completely indifferent. “But since you decided to crash the celebration…”
She tossed the envelope onto the floor in front of him.
The papers slid across the marble tiles and stopped at Jason’s muddy boots.
“Divorce papers,” Melissa explained coolly. “You can sign them now.”
The guests around them began laughing again.
Melissa smiled faintly as she folded her arms.
“Think of it as your birthday gift to Grandmother,” she added smoothly.
Jason stared down at the envelope like it was a death sentence. “No,” he whispered weakly, shaking his head. He looked up at Melissa with desperate eyes.
“No… please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Melissa, we can talk about this later. Right now I just need help.”
His breathing grew shaky.
“Please,” he said again, almost choking on the word. “I’m begging you.”
Melissa’s expression hardened with open contempt. “You’re always begging,” she said coldly, her lip curling slightly. “That’s all you ever do.”
She gestured toward him dismissively.
“Beg for money. Beg for help. Beg for scraps like a stray dog,” she continued with cruel calm. “I’m tired of it.”
She leaned slightly closer to Richard, resting a hand on his arm.
“Richard gives me everything I want,” she added smugly. “He bought me a new car yesterday. A Maserati.”
Her eyes locked onto Jason’s tear-streaked face.
“What have you ever given me, Jason?” she asked mockingly. “Chinese takeout and second-hand embarrassment?”
Jason’s chest tightened painfully as tears rolled down his cheeks.
“I gave you everything I had,” he said hoarsely, his voice trembling with heartbreak. “I worked every day. I never complained.”
His lips shook as he forced out the last words.
“I loved you.”
Melissa’s expression didn’t change.
“You were convenient,” she corrected flatly.
Her voice was cold enough to freeze the room.
“And now you’re inconvenient,” she finished dismissively, pointing toward the divorce papers at his feet. “Sign the papers… and get out.”
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