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

You're a monster

The beeping monitors slowed. Her breaths grew faint.

Karvel held her frail hand, his own fingers trembling as if trying to hold on to her soul. Blood stained the edges of her lips, and yet… she smiled.

"Karv..." she whispered, voice so weak it nearly vanished in the sterile air. "I didn’t want to be a burden anymore. You’ve suffered enough… for me.”

“Mom, no—no! Don’t say that. You’re not a burden. You’re my mother. You’re my only family!” His voice cracked, his chest caving with grief.

She smiled faintly, her gray eyes glossed over but still full of love. “You were just a boy… when I found you behind that church... crying alone. I didn’t give birth to you, but you gave me a reason to live.”

Karvel clutched her tighter, throat raw with emotion. She raised me. She fought for me. She was my entire damn world.

But before he could respond, the sound of dress shoes echoed in the hallway like a countdown to doom.

Dr. William Crane strutted in, his white coat swaying like he was some high-and-mighty rooster leading a parade of vultures. His badge read “Senior Consultant,” but he wore it like a sheriff’s star in a wild west drama—minus the morals.

“Oh, look,” Crane sneered, cocking an eyebrow. “The puppy still has tears left. Touching.”

Karvel’s glare turned molten. “Get out.”

Crane chuckled, pulling out a manila folder. “Tsk. I’d love to let this family drama continue, but we’ve got bills to settle, boy. That operation? ICU care? Tests? Medications? That’s a lot of bacon for a broke little mutt like you.”

“She’s dying,” Karvel growled.

Crane snorted. “Dead or dying, it makes no difference. We’re still owed money. And since you can’t pay—” he snapped his fingers.

Two brutish security guards stomped in behind him like trained oxen wearing uniforms too tight for their biceps and brains.

“Here’s the fun part,” Crane continued, grinning like a hyena with a bone. “If she dies without payment, her body becomes property of the hospital. We’ll start with her kidneys—maybe her corneas, if they haven’t turned to jelly.”

“You’re insane,” Karvel spat. “You’re a monster.”

“I’m a doctor with rules, dogboy. And you bit the hand that fed you,” Crane mocked. “Remember those little ‘donations’ I suggested over the years? You were real obedient at first. Scraping every penny from your sad little gigs. Washing dishes, delivering pizza, acting like a circus poodle for tips.”

Karvel’s hands balled into fists.

“But then you stopped,” Crane said, eyes gleaming. “No more ‘extra appreciation’? Well, this is what happens when a mutt forgets who owns the leash.”

As the guards moved forward, Karvel stood protectively over his mother’s bed. “Don’t you touch her!”

“Aww,” one guard chuckled. “Is the chihuahua gonna bite?”

“Better muzzle him before he pees on the floor,” the other added with a laugh.

They lunged. Karvel tried to fight—but fists met  his ribs, knees struck his gut, and his vision blurred with pain.

“Stop! STOP!” he roared, blood dripping from his mouth as he collapsed beside his mother.

Crane leaned down, voice dripping venom. “The hospital isn’t a kennel, boy. If you want to live like a dog, you better learn when to roll over and die.”

The guards reached for his mother’s body.

Then—

The blare of engines outside shook the walls. Tires screeched. Doors slammed.

Every head turned.

A fleet of black luxury SUVs had pulled up outside the ER entrance. Glossy, armored, and radiating power.

Moments later, a squad of uniformed men poured in, moving in synchronized precision. Earpieces in. Sunglasses on. Expressions cold.

Like wolves in suits.

And leading them?

A woman.

Dressed in tailored white slacks, her silver heels clicking with command, sunglasses pushed up onto her sleek brunette hair. Her aura silenced the entire room like the queen of the jungle had entered a den of stray mutts.

“Stand down,” she said, her voice cool and commanding.

The guards froze.

Crane blinked. “Wh—who the hell are you?”

She ignored him, walking straight to Karvel’s side. Her eyes landed on the blood, the bruises, the broken expression on his face.

“Oh, Karvel...” Her voice softened, pained. “Forgive me. I’m late. I’m so sorry.”

He blinked at her. “You—who are—?”

“I should’ve come earlier,” she whispered, then turned and bowed. Bowed. Right there, in front of everyone.

“I am deeply sorry for what happened to you and your mother,” she said, loud enough for the whole corridor to hear. “This is our mistake, and we will take full responsibility.”

The staff gasped.