The Invincible son-inlaw's Secret Identity

Chapter 1: Useless Son-inlaw

The Thompson family dinner was a glittering circus of fake smiles and condescending laughter. Ethan Reed, the live-in son-in-law, kept his head bowed, exactly where they wanted it.

​For three years, he had endured this. Three long, brutal years of insults and relentless humiliation.

​"Ethan, " his mother-in-law, Clara, cooed ,her voice dripping with venom as she addressed the table. "Did you manage to fix that leaky sink? Try not to break anything this time, you know how fragile old pipes are when someone with... your experience handles them."

​The entire table erupted in laughter. His wife shifted uncomfortably in her expensive silk dress, but she said nothing this time .

​Ethan stared at his untouched plate,they called him trash,called him a mooch and a useless man.

They believed he was a poor orphan, brought into the family as a walking, breathing burden.

​

Clara leaned over, her perfume suffocating. "Still silent? Good. Just remember your place, Ethan. You eat our food, you live in our house, you endure this. That's the price for staying married to my daughter."

​Ethan finally looked up, his eyes briefly flashing with a dangerous coldness that no one at the table, blinded by their own arrogance, noticed. He forced his head back down.

Tonight, his mother-in-law, Margaret, was ready for the final attack.

​"Clara, you will divorce this trash today!" Margaret screamed, pointing a finger at Ethan. "Our family needs a rich partner, not a servant who cleans floors! You are an embarrassment!"

​She snatched a thick wad of cash…about five thousand dollars from the table and threw it directly at Ethan’s face. "Here, take this! Go to the market and get us more expensive wine, buy your own kind of drink and you will know where you belong in life !" The money scattered like dead leaves on the marble floor.

Ethan slowly bent down and picked up the crumpled bills. As he stood, his cheap, cracked phone vibrated fiercely in his pocket. He quickly glanced at the screen, shielded from their view.

It was past 12pm and he was still running errands for the family.He cooked breakfast and lunch without getting a share and was told to cook his,if he cares.

Ethan gasped for breath and went inside to continue with his duties.He scrubbed the floors and washed the dishes while his wife's family ate and laughed, always talking about how useless he was.

After his second session of chores, Ethan was in the huge front hall, polishing a thick, silver serving tray.

He always made sure his job was done before he left for the market.

He rubbed the soft cloth across the metal again and again. He was tired, but he had to do a perfect job. If there was one spot left, his mother-in-law, Margaret, would scream.

The saucepan was so shiny that Ethan could see his own reflection. His face looked thin and tired. His gray shirt was old, and his jeans had been washed so many times that it was pale blue. He looked like a ghost in the mirror of the wealthy tray,he was very hungry and wished to eat but his time wasn’t due.

He quickly finished the tray and put it down gently. He never dropped things nor made noise. In this house, being quiet was the only way to survive.

A sharp, loud sound came from the end of the hall: Margaret’s high heels clicking on the marble. She was wearing a long, shiny blue dress. She looked very tall and very angry.

"You are still wasting time, Ethan?" Margaret’s voice was like ice cracking. "I told you to check the ice. If the cubes are cloudy, our guests will think we are poor. Did you check them? Tell me the truth!"

"The ice is perfectly clear, Margaret," Ethan said. He did not look down. He looked right at the gold necklace around her throat. He called her Margaret because her husband, the patriarch, had told him to. It was the one small, tiny power he had left.

Margaret stepped closer. She smelled of strong, expensive perfume. She didn't care about the ice. She cared about finding something wrong with Ethan.

"Look at your hands," she demanded. Ethan showed her his hands. They were clean, but the skin was rough from all the work. "They look like a gardener's hands. Do not touch anything delicate in the dining room again. Your hands will ruin the glass."

Ethan nodded!

He knew the rules,he was going to sit in a small chair in the corner of the dining room tonight, out of the way. He was not allowed to join the conversation.The big family dinner was supposed to be a happy one. But Ethan knew it was a trap her mother in law was setting .

First, Ethan's wife, Clara, walked in. She was beautiful, much more beautiful than the house. She looked like a powerful young boss, wearing a smart blue business suit. But her eyes looked nervous, like she was waiting for something bad to happen.

She paused next to Ethan. "Grandpa is late," she whispered quickly. "He has a meeting. Please stay here by the front door until he arrives. Just in case he needs help getting inside."

This was Clara's small way of protecting him. She gave him a job that kept him busy, so he didn't have to just stand around and be mocked. Clara was the only kind one, but she was also tired. She was the only person who cared about their marriage, even if she felt trapped by it.

Then, Clara’s male best friend, Leo, arrived. Leo was Margaret's favorite,he was supposed to be the "real" husband for Clara. Leo drove a car that looked like a shiny black insect and cost too much money.

Leo saw Ethan standing still by the door. He stopped and raised one eyebrow. He smiled, but his eyes were mean. It was a practiced, cold smile.

"Well, look who it is," Leo said, his voice loud enough for the servants to hear. "The famous butler, Ethan. Did you remember to get the cheap cleaning spray I asked for? The one that smells like lemons?"

Ethan just shook his head slightly. "I didn't buy anything for you, Leo."

Leo's face changed fast. He was not used to Ethan talking back. Ethan was supposed to be quiet and scared.

"You listen to me, trash," Leo hissed, walking closer. "When you are asked to do something, you do it.

Maybe you forgot where you stand in this family. Go polish my car after dinner. It's dusty."

Leo reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. They were heavy and shiny. He did not throw them. He placed them slowly, deliberately, on a small wooden table, right where Ethan would have to walk over and pick them up like a forgotten object.

Leo turned and walked away, his shoulders high.Ethan stared at the keys. He felt a deep, cold pressure building in his chest.

“Just wait, he thought. Wait a little longer, Leo. Your face will need a lot more than polishing soon.

Margaret started her attack almost immediately. She took a big sip of water and set her glass down with a loud thump.

"The Thompson family," she announced to the whole table, "is about to rise. We are going to work with the Everest Corporation. A very, very big company. This is a huge, important step." She looked straight at Clara. "And this is thanks to Leo, who is a real businessman. Not my daughter, who still carries this..." She pointed a finger at Ethan.

Ethan was sitting far away, in the corner, on the chair that was too small for him.

"Mom, please," Clara pleaded quietly. "Don't bring my marriage into business."

"It is business, Clara!" Margaret shouted, ignoring her daughter. "It is about respect! Leo told me the Everest leaders will not even sign the paper if they know you are married to a man who cleans toilets! They think he is a criminal, a spy, or a bum who is stealing our money!"

Leo nodded, his mean smile back on his face. "It's true, Clara. The deal is simple, I can bring the contract in tomorrow but you must show the world you are serious about success. You must divorce Ethan before the contract signing. Marry someone who looks good next to you. Someone like... well, someone like me."

Clara looked crushed. She loved her grandfather, and she knew this contract would save the family business. But she hated the price.

"Ethan is a kind man," Clara said again, her voice shaking slightly. "He helps us.

He may not have money, but he is not trash."

Shut up!

"He is worse than trash! He is a stain!"

Margaret stood up, leaning over the table. "He has no ambition! He has no family name! He is a shadow you are too foolish to get rid of!"

Clara put her hands over her face, defeated. She couldn't fight her mother and the whole greedy family at once.

Ethan watched Clara crumble. That was the moment it stopped being a game. When they hurt Clara, they went too far.

He stood up slowly. The chair scraped loud on the marble floor.

"I will leave," Ethan said. His voice was calm, but it held a coldness that made the room feel suddenly colder.

Margaret saw her victory. Her face shone with evil happiness. "You will leave forever! You will sign the divorce papers on the way out!

And you will disappear! If I ever see your poor face near this house again, I will tell the police you stole every silver tray you polished!"

She reached for the nearest glass,this time, it was not water. It was a heavy crystal glass filled with a dark, expensive red wine. She wanted to hurt him.

She wanted to leave a mark he couldn't wash out.Margaret lifted the glass high, her eyes wide with hate. "You hear me, scum? Get out! You're a stain on this family!"

She threw the wine.

The red liquid spilled on the dining table. It was a symbol of her anger. It aimed right at Ethan’s head and chest ,the only nice shirt he had intentionally ironed for the special day has been worn out now.

Ethan did not move his feet. He did not raise his hands to block. He simply held his shirt and tried to drain it.

BRAT!

“You made me waste an expensive wine you can never afford.. “

Ethan stood still without any utterances,the room went completely silent. Everyone stared at the wine on the floor and how pitiful the scene was.

Margaret stood frozen, her arm still extended from the throw, the empty glass clattering on the carpet near her feet. She blinked, confused, staring at the huge red stain she had created. She didn't miss her target, but she also damaged her own perfect house.

Ethan did not look at her. He didn't look at the stain. He walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen. He could hear the sudden, low, worried whispers start up behind him.

When he entered the dark kitchen he walked past the steel sink and then cleaned the dishes he had washed.

He went to the corner where he kept his old, worn jacket and pulled out the cheap, cracked phone that the Thompson family had given him three years ago from his pocket.

The phone beeped with a powerful, single word "BEGIN."

The moment he read it, his body exploded with warmth,rushing heat moved through his stomach, up his chest, down his arms, and into his legs.

The deep, constant ache in his back, the pain from years of scrubbing and labor, vanished instantly.

Ethan stared at the phone in a desperate way.

He took a deep breath and said,"Three years... it was real," he whispered, the sound raw and unfamiliar in his throat.

He switched off his phone and went out to get the wine he was sent to buy,even though he was to sign the divorce paper within 48hours.