The Return of The Forsaken Son-in law

Chapter 1

Marco Romano knelt outside the Morrison family's grand living room, his knees pressed against the cold marble floor. The opulent chandelier above cast shadows that seemed to mock his desperate state.

"Please, Mrs. Morrison," Marco pleaded, his voice cracking. "My mother needs this surgery. It's fifty thousand dollars—I'll pay it back, every penny."

Margaret Morrison, Elena's mother, looked down at him with disgust, her perfectly manicured fingers gripping her wine glass. "Fifty thousand? For that dying cockroach you call a mother?"

"She raised me alone after my father died. She's all I have left—"

"Shut up!" Margaret's voice boomed through the mansion. "You pathetic worm, crawling here like the garbage you are. Do you think we're a charity?"

Elena's brother, David, lounged on the leather sofa, smirking. "Look at him, Mother. He's like a beaten dog begging for scraps. Maybe we should throw him a bone."

"The only bone he deserves is in a graveyard," Margaret sneered. "Your worthless mother isn't worth a single dollar of our money. She should have died years ago and saved us all the trouble of looking at your miserable face."

Marco's hands trembled. "Please, I'm married to your daughter. I'm family—"

"Family?" David burst into laughter. "You? You're nothing but a live-in servant who got lucky enough to share Elena's bed. Even my dog has more value than you."

Margaret stood up, towering over Marco's kneeling form. "Get out of my sight, you disgusting roach. If I see your face in my house again without Elena present, I'll have security throw you in the dumpster where you belong."

The heavy doors slammed behind Marco as he stumbled out, his last hope crushed under the Morrison family's cruelty.

The hospital's sterile corridors felt like a prison as Marco approached Dr. Marcus Rodriguez's office. Marcus sat behind his mahogany desk, his expensive suit pristine, his cold eyes examining Marco like a specimen.

"Marco Romano," Marcus drawled, not bothering to look up from his paperwork. "What brings the Morrison family's pet here?"

"Dr. Rodriguez, please. My mother needs the kidney surgery. I know you can help—"

"Help?" Marcus finally looked up, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Why would I help a worthless parasite like you? Your mother is dying, and frankly, it would save everyone the trouble if she just hurried up about it."

Marco's face flushed with anger and desperation. "She's a human being! She deserves to live!"

"Human being?" Marcus laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. "She's a burden on society. And you—you're nothing but a cockroach scurrying around, begging for scraps. You disgust me."

"I'll do anything. I'll work extra shifts, I'll—"

"Anything?" Marcus leaned back in his chair, studying Marco with amusement. "Well, there is one option. You could sell your kidney. That would cover the cost. Of course, you might die in the process, but that would solve two problems at once."

Marco's blood ran cold. "You can't be serious."

"Dead serious. Though I doubt even your kidney is worth much. You're probably diseased, just like that dying rat you call a mother."

"Don't talk about her like that!"

Marcus stood up, his voice turning vicious. "I'll talk about her however I want. She's a worthless old woman who should have died years ago. And you—you're nothing but a fly buzzing around, annoying everyone with your pathetic existence."

Marco's world shattered when he reached his mother's room, only to find it empty. A nurse with a cruel smile intercepted him in the hallway.

"Looking for the old woman in 312?" she asked mockingly. "She's been evicted. Mrs. Morrison called personally and ordered us to throw her out like the trash she is."

"Where is she?" Marco's voice was barely a whisper.

"Outside in the rain, probably. We dumped her and her pathetic belongings by the dumpster. Fitting place for someone who can't pay their bills."

Marco ran through the hospital corridors, his heart pounding. Outside, the rain poured down mercilessly, and there, beside the large garbage containers, lay Rosa Romano. Her frail body was soaked, blood trickling from her mouth, her hospital gown clinging to her skeletal frame.

"Madre!" Marco dropped to his knees, gathering her in his arms.

Rosa's eyes fluttered open, focusing on her son's face with tremendous effort. "Marco... my boy..."

"Don't talk, Mama. I'll get help. I'll find another hospital—"

"No, mijo," Rosa whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "I don't want to be a burden anymore. I've watched them humiliate you for three years. I've seen them treat you like... like an animal."

"You're not a burden! You're my mother, my everything!"

Rosa's hand trembled as she reached for the jade pendant around her neck. "This... this belonged to your father. The Romano family... we were once... once great..."

"Mama, please—"

"They destroyed us, Marco. But this pendant... it holds our legacy. Our power." Her breathing became more labored. "Promise me you'll discover the truth. Promise me you'll reclaim what's ours."

"I promise, Mama. But don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

Rosa's eyes began to close. "I love you, my son. More than life itself."

As she spoke her final words, Marco felt something break inside his chest. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the rain and his mother's blood. But these weren't ordinary tears—they were tears of pure anguish, tinged with red, as if his very soul was bleeding.

The crimson tears dripped onto the jade pendant, and suddenly, the ancient stone began to glow with an otherworldly light. The blood seemed to seep into the jade, activating something that had been dormant for generations.

A voice, deep and authoritative, echoed in Marco's mind: "Descendant of Romano, your blood has awakened the ancient knowledge. I am Antonio Romano, founder of our family's medical legacy."

Marco looked around frantically, but saw no one. The voice continued: "The techniques of our ancestors, the healing arts that made our family legendary—they are now yours. Use them wisely, and reclaim what was stolen from us."

Knowledge flooded Marco's mind—pressure points, energy pathways, ancient healing techniques that had been lost for centuries. His hands moved instinctively to his mother's body, pressing specific points along her arms and torso.

"Mama, stay with me," he whispered, applying pressure to a point near her heart.

Rosa's body convulsed once, then her chest rose with a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes opened wide, clearer than they had been in months.

"M–Marco… "

"We're leaving this place, Mama. We're never coming back to beg from anyone again. Please stay withe me."