SON-IN-LAW BY DAY, UNDERGROUND KING BY NIGHT

2

Arthur pushed off the counter and took a step toward the center table, resting his hands lightly on the glass near the envelope.

“We needed a loyal, hardworking dog who wouldn’t ask for attention or a cut of the real wealth. You were an orphan, a nobody from the streets, without a network, without a family name, without a legacy. We gave you the name… Dray… a respectable name, and you worked your tail off like a dutiful animal for five years, just as we intended.”

“I saved your legacy,” Mikael stated, the words clipped and flat.

“No. You were a useful phase, a necessary evil, a tool to stabilize the market confidence, a waste in a bin we temporarily pulled out,” Arthur corrected, waving a dismissive hand, as if swatting away a fly. “The company is robust now, Mikael. We are secure. We don’t need to just stabilize anymore. We need to grow, and grow requires influence, requires deep, established connections, and above all, it requires real old wealth. Not your quiet, under-the-table maneuvering and clever accounting. We need the kind of power that only comes from true family dynasties.”

Arthur walked toward the desk, picking up a heavy, engraved silver pen.

“The Kylian Group made an offer, Mikael. A merger. A monumental, once-in-a-generation deal. They’re offering a capital injection that dwarfs your entire five years of effort combined. The deal is contingent on a wedding. Their son, Julian Kylian, is marrying Aria. That’s the arrangement. That, Mikael, is a much, much better return on investment than keeping you around for another day. You have outlived your purpose. Do you finally understand the simple reality of the situation?”

Mikael stared at the man who had been his mentor, his boss, his father-figure, and saw only a ruthless operator. A cold, hard laugh escaped him, hollow and devoid of humor.

“You’re throwing away the man who saved you, for a chance at a merger with a spoiled rich kid,” Mikael said, shaking his head slowly, a profound sense of disbelief washing over him. “A merger that could collapse the second they realize the board has been playing this kind of game. Aria is marrying him for money, and she will leave him just as she’s leaving me. You know that, don’t you? She’s a colder, more ruthless version of you.”

Arthur’s smile only widened, revealing not warmth, but the icy chill of absolute power. He picked up the envelope and flipped it over, revealing the blank signature line.

“That is the very least of my worries, Mikael. Now, sign the papers, and the board will grant you a generous, non-disclosure-bound severance package. You walk away with enough to start a new life, disappear, and never bother us again. Refuse, and you walk away with nothing but the clothes on your back, and a reputation that will ensure no corporation in this city ever hires you again. Choose wisely. Your time in the Elston family has officially expired.”

Mikael looked down at the paper, his hands flexing into tight fists at his sides. The silence stretched out, thick with loathing, betrayal, and the crushing weight of five years of sacrifice rendered meaningless. The city lights outside seemed to mock his failure.

“You really think you can erase me that easily, Arthur?” Mikael asked, his voice now dangerously quiet. “You think a piece of paper and a threat will make me forget everything I know about your company? Everything I know about you?”

Arthur laughed, a loud, dismissive sound that echoed in the vast room. “Mikael, you are a clever man. But you have no power. You are just a signature waiting to happen. Now, I suggest you take that pen and do what you do best: follow orders.”

Mikael felt a cold fury, pure and searing, begin to replace the shock. “You brought me in. You promised me stability. A family. A name,” he said, the words strained and heavy, thick with betrayal.

Arthur Elston snapped, his voice hard, lacking any trace of warmth. “We promised you a life better than the gutter you crawled out of, Mikael. And you got it. You ate well. You lived in luxury here. You got a front-row seat to how real, serious business is done. Now, you’ve served your purpose, and you’re simply in the way.”

Arthur slid a second document..a non-disclosure agreement—and a small severance check across the table, immediately following the signed annulment papers.

“Sign this non-disclosure, and you walk away cleanly with enough cash to buy a small apartment and disappear back into the crowd where you belong. You will never, under any circumstances, speak about the Elston Group, the contracts, or your marriage. If you try to cause trouble, if you try to fight the annulment or talk about your ‘contributions’ to the press, I will ruin you. Not just financially. I will destroy your reputation and everything you think you built. The board has already agreed to publicly deny your strategic role entirely. You were just a minor manager, nothing more. A nwarm body.”

Mikael picked up the annulment paper again. The ink seemed to swim slightly before his eyes. It was a complete dissolution, effective immediately. He did not deserve this. He had given them everything he had to give.

“I secured the Aethel contract, Mr. Arthur,” Mikael reminded him, his voice dangerously quiet, a low thrum of suppressed rage. “That was my work. That was my intellectual property, my strategy.”

Arthur chuckled, a condescending, dry sound as he shook his head slowly. “Oh, Mikael, you don’t own a single thing. Not even the tuxedo you are wearing. Did you forget? You signed a prenuptial agreement that assigned all your work and all your assets—including any future business ventures conceived during the marriage—to Aria and the Elston estate. You really thought we’d let a stray dog like you keep anything valuable that you created under our roof? Be serious.”

The insult, the casual, dehumanizing cruelty, was the final and absolute breaking point. Mikael’s knuckles turned bone-white as he gripped the papers tightly. His mind, usually a fortress of cold, calm strategy, was now an inferno of pure, focused hatred.

“You’re making a huge mistake, Mr. Arthur,” Mikael said, not as a threat, but as a simple, cold statement of an imminent, unavoidable fact.

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