THE DISGUSTING SON-IN-LAW WON'T TOLERATE INSULT ANYMORE

But I'm married

The banquet hall buzzed with elegant conversation and clinking champagne glasses. 

Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over tables draped in silk, while waiters glided between guests like well-trained ballet dancers.

Elena's father, Robert, led their family in quietly, his head down like a beaten dog trying to avoid the alpha's attention.

"Keep your voices low," he whispered. "Don't draw any unnecessary attention."

But within seconds, a sharp voice cut through the air like a whip crack.

"Well, well! Look what the cat dragged in!"

Elena's uncle, Richard Howard, strutted over with his daughter Sarah, both wearing smug expressions that could curdle milk.

"Uncle Richard," Patricia forced a smile. "How lovely to see you."

"Is it, though?" Sarah snickered. "I'm surprised you had the nerve to show your faces here after Elena's little embezzlement scandal."

"That's not what happened—" Elena began, but Richard cut her off with a dismissive wave.

"Oh please, spare us the sob story, niece. You stole company funds to pay for that street mongrel's mommy's medical bills. What kind of pathetic lapdog betrays her own family for a mangy mutt?"

"She's like a brainwashed poodle," Sarah added with a cruel laugh. "Completely whipped by her flea-bitten master!"

"Where is your precious husband anyway?" Richard looked around mockingly. "Too embarrassed to bring him? Smart choice—nobody wants to see a rabid stray at a civilized gathering."

Elena's cheeks burned, but she remained silent.

"He's probably off somewhere licking his wounds," Sarah giggled. "I heard he got into another fight today. Typical street dog behavior!"

"Speaking of dogs," Richard continued, "since you've contributed absolutely nothing to this family except shame, you can't sit with the actual guests. The workers' table is over there." He pointed toward a corner table near the kitchen. "More appropriate for your... status."

Patricia's face went white. "Richard, surely you don't mean—"

"I mean exactly what I said," Richard's voice turned cold. "Sit with the help, where you belong."

This is humiliating, Robert thought, but he had no choice.

 We need to stay in the family's good graces.

Just as they began their walk of shame toward the corner table, a commanding voice rang out.

"What's all this commotion?"

Everyone turned. Elena's grandmother, Margaret Howard, approached with her regal bearing intact despite her seventy-plus years. Her steel-gray hair was perfectly coiffed, and her emerald dress sparkled with authority.

"Grandmother!" Patricia's voice cracked with desperation and hope.

"Margaret," Richard bowed slightly, suddenly nervous. "I was just... seating everyone appropriately."

Margaret's sharp eyes surveyed the scene. "And you thought my granddaughter and her family belonged with the staff?"

"Well, given their recent... difficulties..."

"Nonsense," Margaret declared, her voice cutting through Richard's stammering. "Elena, dear, come sit at the main table. We need to have a proper family discussion."

This is unexpected, Elena thought, suspicious. Grandmother never defends us.

Patricia practically bounced with excitement. "Oh, thank you, Mother! This is all thanks to Vincent's influence, isn't it?"

As if summoned by his name, Vincent appeared at Elena's side, flashing his most charming smile.

"Mrs. Howard," he bowed elegantly. "You look radiant tonight. Thank you for allowing me to join this wonderful celebration."

Margaret's face lit up like Christmas morning. "Vincent! My dear boy, the pleasure is all ours. Richard, apologize to my guests immediately."

Richard's jaw dropped. "But Mother—"

"NOW."

Richard mumbled an apology like a scolded child, while Sarah looked like she'd swallowed a particularly bitter lemon.

As they settled at the main table, Margaret beamed at Vincent. "I must say, Vincent, your ability to secure the entire third floor for tonight's celebration is truly impressive. Even families twice our size have never managed such a feat!"

Vincent waved modestly. "It's nothing, really. When Elena's happiness is at stake, I'd move mountains."

"Such devotion!" Margaret clasped her hands together. "And I hear you're willing to invest in our family business? One hundred million, was it?"

"A small matter," Vincent nodded. "I actually discussed this with Elena before the banquet, though she seemed... hesitant."

Margaret's expression shifted, her eyes turning to Elena with growing coldness. "Hesitant? About what, exactly?"

Elena squirmed in her seat like a cornered mouse. "Grandmother, it's... complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," Margaret's voice turned sharp as a blade.

Elena glanced around the table, seeing all eyes on her. I can't say this in front of everyone.

"Vincent didn't just want to discuss business," she said quietly. "He wanted... other things."

"Other things?" Margaret raised an eyebrow.

"He wanted to sleep with me," Elena blurted out, her face burning red.

The table fell silent.

Margaret stared at Elena for a long moment, then burst into incredulous laughter.

"And you refused? You ungrateful little sparrow! Do you realize what a blessing this is?"

Elena's mouth fell open. "Grandmother?"

"Vincent is offering you his affection AND helping our family! Most women would kill for such an opportunity!"

"But I'm married!" Elena protested.

"To a worthless street rat!" Margaret snapped. "Vincent is a real man—successful, powerful, generous!"

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! You're being selfish and holier-than-thou, cousin. Put the family first for once!"

"It's disgusting how she puts her own prudish morals above everyone else's welfare," Richard added. "Like a spoiled cat who thinks she's too good for premium fish!"

Elena looked around the table in horror. "Are you all insane? You want me to cheat on my husband?"

Margaret's eyes turned ice-cold. "If you don't agree to Vincent's proposal, you'll repay every cent you embezzled—today. All of it. Or I'll have you arrested for theft."

Elena felt the blood drain from her face. Millions. I don't have millions.

"Choose wisely, dear," Margaret smiled like a shark scenting blood. "Vincent's bed, or a prison cell. What's it going to be?"