The Despised Son-in-law Is The Shadow Monarch

0004: Bait On The Hook

The big wooden doors of the Charlton Logistics office closed with a loud bang. Mr. Charlton and Jane were inside their expensive office. On the big wooden desk were 4 different plans to buy new ships, trucks, and warehouses in 3 nearby provinces.

"We don't just need 5 new ships, Jane," Mr. Charlton said, tapping his heavy gold ring on a glass map of the coast. "We need 20. If we take the main shipping routes before winter, our company will be worth 100 million dollars. The whole province will bow to us."

"The expansion costs a lot, Father," Jane said, fixing her purple blazer and diamond earrings. Her eyes were full of greed. "The shipyard wants 20 million dollars right now just to start building the heavy trucks and chassis. Our cash is stuck in the 45 million dollar trade contract."

"Then we borrow," Mr. Charlton laughed, picking up a thick folder with a silver logo. "Valmont Genesis Bank opened a new branch on Financial Avenue last week. They have 3 trillion dollars. They are looking for big local companies to support."

Jane touched the silver logo of Valmont Genesis Bank with her long nail. "A 20 million dollar loan? Will their bank agree so fast? We already have a lot of debt."

"Our books look amazing, Jane!" Mr. Charlton laughed loudly. "Our future profit is huge because of the new trade license! They would be stupid to say no to us."

Ten miles away, on the 85th floor of the Valmont Genesis Tower, the room was quiet. Big glass windows looked over the smoky city.

Inside the private office, Catherine Flower stood near a big black glass desk, watching a silver tablet with live money charts.

Sitting behind the desk was Lloyd Wallace. He wore a clean white shirt; the cheap canvas jacket from the docks was gone. Now he looked like a man with absolute power.

Catherine put a thick red folder on the desk in front of him.

"The Charlton family sent their loan application 2 hours ago, Lord Sovereign," Catherine said clearly. "They want 20 million dollars. They are putting up their whole fleet of ships, their warehouses, and their personal house as collateral."

Lloyd did not pick up the folder right away. He rested his chin on his hands and looked at the summary page.

"Their debt is already 64%," Lloyd said softly. "If they take 20 million more, one small problem in their shipping will make them lose all their working cash in 72 hours."

"Exactly, my Lord," Catherine nodded with a cold smile. "By normal bank rules, this application is very risky and should be rejected right now. They are putting their whole family into huge debt."

Lloyd took out his heavy black pen with silver writing on it. He opened it with a soft click. He did not hesitate. He signed the approval line with his sharp, clear signature.

"Approve it," Lloyd said, closing the pen and giving the file back to Catherine. "Give them the full 20 million dollars. Don't make them wait 3 weeks. Put the money into their main account by noon today."

Catherine took the signed paper and bowed a little. "You are building a golden cage for them, Lord Sovereign."

"A bird in a small cage always looks for a way out," Lloyd murmured, turning his chair to look at the harbor far below. "But if you build a cage so big the bird thinks it owns the whole sky, it will fly straight into the iron bars at full speed."

By 5 o'clock that evening, the big ballroom of the Grand Stamford Suites, the city's best 7-star hotel, was full of gold and shining crystal.

Hundreds of rich guests, CEOs, and politicians. Big ice statues of eagles stood near tables full of caviar, champagne towers, and roasted pigs.

Madam Helen walked through the middle like a queen, wearing a 3-string emerald necklace and fanning herself with a golden feather fan. Beside her, Mr. Charlton was surrounded by 5 important directors, all clinking glasses and toasting loudly.

"20 million dollars approved in one afternoon!" Mr. Charlton boasted, his face red from expensive wine, waving his cigar. "Valmont Genesis Bank knows true royalty! They didn't even send someone to check our warehouses! They saw the Charlton name and signed the check instantly!"

"To the Charlton dynasty!" a rich builder shouted, raising his glass. "The kings of Springland!"

"To success!" Madam Helen laughed loudly. "When you are elite, doors just open for you! Luck follows those with true status!"

While the main ballroom was loud with laughter and glasses, the side flower atrium was quiet and cool.

Julianne Wallace stood behind a long table, her small hands in thin cotton gloves, carefully cutting the stems of white lilies and rare purple orchids.

She was 19 years old, wearing a simple black hotel staff uniform that was too big for her small body. Her long dark hair was tied in a neat ponytail, a few soft hairs framing her pretty face.

Her fingers were raw and cold from dipping into ice water buckets for 6 hours straight, but her eyes were bright.

‘If I work for more weekend shifts,’ Julianne mused, putting a purple orchid into a tall crystal vase, ‘I can pay for my second-semester biology textbooks without bothering brother Lloyd.’

She smiled gently, wiping sweat from her forehead. She didn't exactly know where her brother was staying after his sudden divorce from Jane, but he called her 2 nights ago, his voice so soft and warm, saying Mum was safe in a private recovery place and everything would be fine.

Suddenly, heavy, fast footsteps echoed down the tiled hallway.

Madam Helen walked into the flower lobby, holding a golden mirror and fixing her red lipstick. She came down the side hallway to use the VIP bathroom away from the crowded ballroom.

Her eyes looked lazily over the flower arrangements until they landed on the young girl behind the table.

Madam Helen stood still. Her lipstick stopped. Her eyes became sharp and full of poison as she recognized the girl's soft eyes and quiet posture; the Wallace family look.

"You?" Madam Helen gasped, her voice full of instant venom.

Julianne’s eyes bulged, her hands freezing over the vase. She looked up, her heart jumping as she recognized her former sister-in-law's mother standing 5 feet away, full of hatred.

"Mrs. Charlton..." Julianne stammered softly, stepping back against the marble counter. "I... I am just working the event shift for the hotel's flower team."

"A dishwasher's trash sister cleaning flower stems in a 7-star hotel?" Madam Helen sneered, stepping forward. She looked down at Julianne's worn canvas shoes with disgust.

"How disgusting! Did your broke failure of a brother send you here to spy on our family's success? Did he send you to beg for scraps from our party?"

"No!" Julianne said quickly, her cheeks burning with shame, her voice shaking. "I got this part-time job through my university 3 weeks ago! I didn't even know your family was having an event here tonight!"

"Shut your mouth, you low-class leech!" Madam Helen barked, her shrill voice echoing off the high glass ceiling.

Several rich guests walking on the upper balcony stopped and leaned over the brass railings to look down into the flower lobby. Seeing an audience gathering above, Madam Helen's eyes flashed with cruel, dramatic excitement.

She swung her heavy arm outward on purpose, her lace fan hitting the edge of the 5-foot-tall, hand-blown crystal vase Julianne had spent 2 hours making.

CRASH!

The massive crystal vase shattered violently against the hard floor. Pieces of glass exploded everywhere, splashing freezing water, crushed purple orchids, and dark mud all over Madam Helen's golden silk shoes.

"Ah! My dress! My shoes!" Madam Helen screamed at the top of her lungs, throwing her hands in the air like she was attacked.

Julianne gasped in complete terror, her face turning sour. "I... I didn't touch it! You pushed—"

"Security! Hotel management! Get down here now!" Madam Helen shrieked, pointing her long, jewel-covered finger at Julianne's chest.

Within seconds, 4 uniformed security guards ran down the corridor, led by a nervous assistant manager in a tight black suit.

The noise brought more than 50 rich party guests from the main ballroom, who gathered at the entrance of the atrium, whispering and laughing.

"Madam Charlton!" the assistant manager gasped, looking at the shattered crystal and wet silk dress in horror. "What happened?"

"This useless, low-class peasant girl intentionally threw a heavy crystal vase at my feet!" Madam Helen lied blatantly, her face twisted with fake angry fury as she pointed at Julianne.

"She even threatened me! She ruined my custom Italian silk dress and destroyed a rare flower display!"

"That's not true!" Julianne cried out, tears bursting from her eyes as she looked around at the cold, mocking faces staring at her. "I was standing behind the counter! She knocked it over on purpose!"

"Do you know who this is?" Madam Helen roared at the terrified assistant manager. "This is Mr. Charlton's wife! Our family just got a 20 million dollar loan from Valmont Genesis Bank! We are hosting the main party in your hotel tonight! And you allow filthy, unwashed street thieves to work near VIP guests?"

The assistant manager turned stiff, turning to Julianne with an icy, aggressive scowl. "You! Give me your staff badge right now!"

"That rare Venetian crystal display was worth 5,000 dollars!" Madam Helen declared loudly, stepping close to Julianne, her face inches from the weeping girl's shaking cheeks.

"Pay 5,000 dollars in cash right now for my ruined dress and the broken glass, or I will have the police arrest you for destroying private property and attacking me!"

"Five thousand dollars?" Julianne sobbed, her hands clutching her chest as her shoulders shook violently. "I... I don't have 5,000 dollars! I only earn 12 dollars an hour here! Please... I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Then you can rot in jail tonight, you pathetic loser!" Madam Helen laughed, turning toward the chuckling crowd with a triumphant smile. "Call the police! Let her broke, useless brother come pay her bail if he can afford it!"

Julianne’s heart sank in the middle of the shattered glass, tears streaming down her face as two security guards reached forward to grab her arms.

The room continually buzzed with cold, heartless laughter as the rich people watched the young girl's humiliation like cheap street theater.

Suddenly, the doors at the main entrance of the atrium exploded inward with a deafening bang.

The heavy brass lock snapped clean off the wood frame, wood pieces flying across the floor as a cold, terrifying gust of wind swept through the room, instantly blowing out the candles on the walls.

The cold laughter in the room died instantly.

Standing in the broken doorway, framed by the bright lights behind him, was a single tall figure walking forward with slow and terrifyingly calm steps.

None other than Lloyd Wallace.