The Invincible son-inlaw's Secret Identity

Chapter 4:The thompson Family Panic

The morning started the way every morning at the Thompson house did: with Margaret’s screaming.

But today, the sound was different. It wasn't the sound of an arrogant woman scolding a servant. It was the sound of a rich woman who just discovered she was poor.

The noise sliced through the expensive walls of Clara’s bedroom. Clara sat bolt upright in bed, her heart already racing. The divorce papers were still folded neatly on her dresser, Ethan’s signature—so neat, so final—staring up at her

. He had left her. She felt sick with guilt and sadness, but the raw, shaking rage in her mother’s voice pulled her out of her pain.

She rushed down the stairs, pulling a robe tight around her.

Margaret was in the living room, standing by the massive, antique safe where the family kept important documents. She was holding a phone to her ear, but she wasn’t talking; she was shouting.

“What do you mean the funds are frozen? We just had the money yesterday! That $50 million investment from the last deal was supposed to be the seed money for the Everest Corporation contract! Who froze it?”

Her face was white, her eyes wide with a fear Clara had never seen before. Margaret’s fear usually came in the form of anger; this was just pure, cold dread.

Clara’s father, Mr. Thompson, was already there. He sat on the edge of a silk sofa, his tie crooked, staring blankly at a tablet. His usually red, confident face was gray.

“It’s worse than that, Margaret,” he mumbled, his voice a dried-up whisper. “It’s not just frozen. The entire account has been flagged by the Central Trade Commission for ‘highly suspicious activities.’ They called it… a hostile corporate raid.”

“A raid?!” Margaret shrieked, dropping her phone. It clattered loudly on the marble floor. “Who? Who would dare attack the Thompson Group? We’re not that big, but we are well-connected!”

Clara felt a sudden chill. A hostile raid? It was a term for huge companies fighting a secret war, not for the small-time Thompson Group.

“And the Everest deal?” Clara asked, her voice tight. The Everest contract was the only thing holding the family’s future together, the only thing that made her grandfather proud.

Mr. Thompson looked up, defeated. “The lawyer just called. The entire Everest Corporation… they withdrew their offer. They sent a one-line email: ‘Transaction Terminated. Permanently.’ They didn’t even give a reason.”

The room went silent. The most important contract in their family’s history, the one they had sold Clara's marriage for, was gone.

***

Across town, in his sleek, expensive apartment, Leo—the rival businessman who planned to marry Clara was having a much more public meltdown.He stood by his huge glass window, looking down at his prized possession: his black, high-end sports car.Except it wasn’t his prized possession anymore.It was covered in red paint.Not just spilled, but spray-painted. The massive, arrogant word “TRASH” was still wet and dripping across the hood and roof. Worst of all, police cars and a massive tow truck were surrounding it.

Leo was on the phone, his face blotchy with rage.

“I am Leo Harrison! You can’t tow my car! I pay your salary, you idiot! Get that truck away from my—”

Click. The person on the other end hung up.Leo threw his golden phone across the room. It smashed into a wall. “Who did this? Who would dare trespass on my private building and do this? It has to be some kind of jealous lowlife!”

He ran to his computer, needing a distraction, needing to see his name and his success praised. He pulled up a news site.But instead of seeing his picture winning an award, he saw a giant, bold headline: "Harrison Group Executive Arrested for Historical Fraud: Millions Missing from Charity Funds."

Leo stared. His eyes darted across the screen. Historical fraud? Charity funds? He didn't know what they were talking about. This was crazy! The charges were real, the news was spreading like wildfire, and his bank accounts were flashing red.

He had been planning to ruin the Thompson family’s finances later this week, but now his own empire was crashing faster than theirs. He was caught in the backwash of a massive wave.

He suddenly remembered the man he had insulted last night. The man he had ordered to polish his car. Ethan Reed.

“No… it can’t be,” Leo whispered, running his hand through his perfectly gelled hair. “The pathetic rat doesn't even have a bank account! He can’t even afford a bus ticket!”

But then he remembered the two mysterious guards and the strange, quiet car he saw driving away as he pulled in late last night. He dismissed it at the time, but now a cold, scary thought entered his mind: What if Ethan Reed wasn't trash? What if he had been playing them all along?

***

Back at the Thompson house, Clara stood in the doorway, watching her mother sink to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably over their lost fortune.

“We’re ruined! Ruined!” Margaret wailed, clutching at her father’s arm. “We sold Clara’s happiness for nothing! That Leo is a snake! He promised he would save us!”

Clara felt a profound sense of numbness. She should be crying for the family, but she couldn't. All she could think of was Ethan’s quiet departure, the signed paper, and the fact that she had stood by while they had crushed him.

I lost my husband for a contract that didn't even last 12 hours, she thought. I failed.“It’s karma,” Clara said suddenly, her voice flat and surprisingly strong.

Margaret stopped crying and looked at her daughter with utter disbelief. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s karma,” Clara repeated. She stepped into the wreckage of the living room. “We thought we were smart. We thought we were wealthy. But we were cruel. We treated Ethan like dirt for three years. We made him miserable just so we could use him as a scapegoat for our own failures. And now, the deal is gone. The money is gone. We are the trash, Mother.”

Clara turned away from her shocked parents. She didn't want to see them anymore. She had to find Ethan. She had to tell him how sorry she was, even though it was too late.

She went back up to her room, planning to pack a small bag and leave the toxic house forever. As she reached the dresser, she noticed something odd beside the divorce papers.It was a bill. A faded, crumpled hospital bill for her grandfather’s life-saving surgery—the one that had bankrupted the family three years ago and was the reason she was forced to marry Ethan in the first place.

But the bill was stamped. In bright red ink, across the amount, was a simple word: “PAID.”Clara picked up the paper, her fingers trembling. She knew exactly how much money that bill was—it was a fortune. The debt was cleared.

A single, thick tear rolled down her cheek, but it wasn't a tear of sadness. It was a tear of confusion.

Who had paid it? Her family certainly didn't have the money now, and they wouldn't have done it before. She looked at the signature on the divorce papers, the neat, lonely name "Ethan."

It can't be him. He's poor. He's gone, she thought.

But printed next to the red “PAID” stamp, in the smallest possible font, was the name of the company that handled the transaction. It was a holding company. She squinted, struggling to read the name.

It read: Evergreen Holdings Group.

Clara frowned. That name meant nothing to her. But beneath the name was a tiny, tiny logo. A small, stylized drawing of a soaring bird with a mountain peak in its talons.

The same logo as the Everest Corporation.

Clara froze, the air sucked out of her lungs. The company that had just crushed her family, the company that had caused her to divorce her husband, was somehow connected to the secret payment that had just saved her grandfather’s legacy.

She gripped the bill, her mind racing with a terrible thought: Did Ethan know this company?

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was an unknown number. She answered it.

A deep, commanding voice—a voice she had never heard before, but which somehow sounded completely real—spoke from the other end.

“Clara Thompson. You have 48 hours to leave the Thompson family home. If you are there when the market opens on Monday, you will be caught in the fire.”