The Despised Son-in-law Is The Shadow Monarch

0006: Delusion Gets Deeper

Charlton Logistics main conference table held 3 contracts to buy 200 heavy steel shipping containers and 30 custom trucks.

"The Valmont Genesis audit was cleared in 12 hours, just like I predicted," Mr. Charlton said, throwing his pen on the table with a satisfied click. He leaned back in his leather chair, smoking a thick Cuban cigar.

"It was just a small computer glitch when they changed servers. The bank's vice president called me personally this morning to say sorry for the temporary lock."

"I knew it," Jane said smoothly, standing by the big window in her expensive white silk jumpsuit, her eyes looking at the busy harbor below. "Hayden was too nervous last night. Rich people love to gossip about drama, but power is about who is still standing when the dust settles."

"That broke thug Lloyd got lucky," Madam Helen added from the leather sofa, fanning herself with a lace fan. "He barged into a 7-star hotel, made a scene while the bank's system was updating! What a nerve! I hear he and his pathetic sister ran out the back doors like rats the second CEO Harrigan started shouting."

"Let them run," Mr. Charlton mocked. "Our expansion cannot be stopped by a couple of beggars. We already ordered the new containers and trucks. Once those 200 trucks hit the highway next week, our daily carrying capacity will double."

Jane turned around with a sharp, confident smile. "Which brings us to tonight. The annual Maritime Commerce Gala at the Grand Stamford Suites' VIP botanical gardens. Every big shipping boss and investor in the state will be there."

"Wear the teardrop sapphire necklace, Jane," Madam Helen said, her eyes full of arrogance. "We must show the city our family is rising higher than ever. We are entering the billionaire class, and no street noise will dirty our name."

While the Charlton family celebrated their fake invincibility, an exquisite unmarked black car pulled quietly into the underground parking of the Valmont Genesis Tower.

Inside the quiet, glass-walled office on the 85th floor, Catherine Flower stood before the big wooden desk. She held a thick, dark blue file with the golden seal of the Nirvana Shadow Conglomerate.

Lloyd Wallace sat behind the desk, calmly looking at real-time charts projected onto the glass surface.

"The Charlton family has officially placed their main factory orders, Lord Sovereign," Catherine reported, her voice quiet and sharp. "They have spent 12 million dollars of their remaining cash to buy 200 custom heavy shipping containers and 30 special trucks from Northern Steel Works and Valmont Metalworks."

"And who owns those factories?" Lloyd asked softly, his fingers tapping slowly on the glass desk.

Catherine smiled a cold, brilliant smile. "As of 90 minutes ago, Nirvana Group's industrial arm completed a silent 100% buyout of both Northern Steel Works and Valmont Metalworks. Every physical mold, steel supply line, truck assembly plant, and container patent in the region is now completely under your private ownership."

Lloyd looked down at the digital blueprint of the heavy shipping containers.

"So when their trucks arrive at the port..." Lloyd murmured.

"They will be driving on chassis we own, carrying containers we made, pulled by trucks operating on our supply permits," Catherine confirmed, bowing her head slightly.

"They think they are building a massive logistics empire, but every single gear turning in their business belongs to you, Sovereign Lord."

"Brilliant," Lloyd said softly, closing the file. "Let them pay the manufacturing deposits, and announce their grand fleet expansion to the public tonight. An arrogant fellow who boasts about a house built on rented land is the easiest man to ruin."

He stood up, adjusting his dark jacket. "How is my mother?"

"Madam Mary's cellular regeneration cycle was completed this morning, Lord Sovereign," Catherine replied warmly.

"The medical team says her organ function is back to 100%. She asked for a walk in the open air, so I arranged for her to rest in the private VIP botanical gardens at the Grand Stamford Suites while waiting for you."

"I will go pick her up personally," Lloyd said, walking toward the private elevator.

The VIP botanical gardens of the Grand Stamford Suites were breathtaking. Mary walked slowly along the stone path, her breath coming smooth, deep, and painless for the first time in years.

She wore a simple dress of pale silver silk, given by Catherine's private staff to keep up with the script.

Her color had returned to her cheeks, making her look 10 years younger. Though her clothes were neat, they had no loud logos or flashy brands, showing her quiet, modest nature.

She paused beside a fountain, gently admiring a bed of rare white lilies with a soft, peaceful smile. She was waiting for Lloyd, enjoying the quiet afternoon sun through the glass dome.

Suddenly, the sharp clicking of high heels echoed down the marble walkway, along with loud, shrill laughter.

"The botanical garden was reserved only for the preparatory committee of the Maritime Gala!"

Jane's loud, bossy voice carried across the courtyard as she walked with two wealthy female socialites, followed by two uniformed hotel maids carrying heavy trays of drinks.

Jane was dressed in her dazzling white silk jumpsuit, wearing her teardrop sapphire necklace. She was gesturing widely, boasting about her family's new trade license.

"We are adding 30 new heavy trucks to our fleet next week," Jane bragged, tossing her hair. "When you operate at our level, expansion is just a matter of—"

Jane paused mid-sentence.

Her eyes landed directly on the frail woman standing beside the marble fountain.

Jane blinked once, then twice, her eyes widening in disbelief. She recognized the face, the shoulders, and the calm eyes instantly.

It was Mary. The useless, dying peasant woman whom Lloyd had carried through the mud 3 weeks ago.

"You?" Jane gasped, her voice full of pure disgust.

The two socialites stopped beside Jane, looking at Mary. "Jane, dear? Do you know this old woman? Is she one of the garden staff?"

"Staff?" Jane sneered, taking three aggressive steps forward, her heels snapping on the floor. "She's a street beggar! A filthy peasant whose broke son used to wash my family's cars!"

Mary turned her head, her calm eyes meeting Jane's glare. "Jane," Mary said softly, her voice polite. "I am just waiting for my son."

"Waiting for your son?" Jane laughed hysterically with cruel mockery. "How dare you drag your filthy, diseased body into the Grand Stamford Suites' VIP botanical garden? Did you crawl out of the charity ward just to sneak in here and beg for money from rich guests?"

"I am not begging," Mary replied quietly, standing perfectly straight beside the fountain. "This is a public garden area, and I am troubling no one."

"Public?" Jane roared, her face twisted with arrogant rage as she felt humiliated in front of her high-society friends.

"This venue costs 50,000 dollars a day to reserve! A useless peasant corpse like you doesn't even have the right to breathe the same air as the people in this room!"

Jane turned toward one of the uniformed hotel maids behind her, who was holding a heavy porcelain pot filled with piping-hot, dark black tea for the afternoon service.

"You!" Jane snapped, pointing her long nail at the maid. "Give me that teapot!"

The maid hesitated, nervous. "Ma'am, the tea is boiling—"

"I said give it to me!" Jane barked, snatching the heavy porcelain pot directly from the maid's hands.

Jane stepped up to Mary, her eyes burning with cruel malice. She wanted to crush this peasant woman.

She wanted to prove to herself, to her friends, and to the entire city that the Wallace family was nothing but dirt under her expensive shoes.

"Let me clean off your peasant filth so you remember your place!" Jane shrieked.

With a violent motion, Jane tipped the heavy pot forward, throwing the dark, steaming black tea directly onto Mary's pale silver silk dress.

SPLASH!

The boiling dark liquid blasted across the front of Mary's dress, staining the clean silver silk into a dark, ugly brown from her collar down to her knees.

Mary gasped softly from the sudden shock, taking half a step back against the fountain, her hands clutching her wet, stained dress.

The heat soaked through the fabric, but she did not scream or fall. She simply lifted her head, looking at Jane with quiet, deep sadness that stung more than any insult.

"Look at you!" Jane laughed shrilly, tossing the empty porcelain pot onto the floor where it shattered with a sharp CRACK.

"A dark, dirty stain for a dark, dirty peasant! Get out of this garden right now before I have security throw you into the gutter where you belong!"

The two socialites behind Jane chuckled softly, covering their mouths, while the hotel maids stood pale and silent.

Jane stood in the middle of the walkway, hands on her hips, chin lifted high in triumph, believing she had put the low-class trash back in their place.

Suddenly, a heavy pressure fell over the entire botanical garden.

The two socialites stopped laughing, their breath catching as shock gripped their chests.

From the arched glass entrance at the end of the walkway, a single tall figure walked forward.

His footsteps made no sound against the stone floor, but every step seemed to vibrate through the earth. His posture was rigid as iron, his jaw locked in world-ending fury.

His eyes were fixed entirely on the dark tea stains soaking his mother's dress.

It was Lloyd.