The Return of The Forsaken Son-in law

Chapter 5

Marco drove through the narrow streets of Millbrook District, the Bentley's powerful engine purring softly as he navigated toward the Morrison family's cramped apartment building. The contrast between the luxury vehicle and the rundown neighborhood was stark—peeling paint, broken streetlights, and garbage scattered along the sidewalks told the story of a family that had fallen far from grace.

The Morrison family had once been among the most respected in the city, but their fortunes had crumbled over the years. When Elena's grandfather fell ill, her uncle Thomas had convinced Patrick Morrison that marrying off Elena would "ward off the family's bad luck." Elena, known as Millbrook District's most beautiful woman, had shocked everyone by choosing Marco—a quiet, ordinary man she assumed would remain obedient and invisible.

After their marriage, the grandfather recovered, but Thomas used Elena's "disgraceful" marriage as justification to strip Patrick of his inheritance, leaving the family in poverty. Now they lived in a cramped apartment, surviving on Elena's modest income and treating Marco like an unpaid servant.

Marco parked the Bentley down the street, away from the building, and walked toward the Morrison's apartment complex. Before he could even reach the entrance, Margaret Morrison's shrill voice assaulted him from the third-floor balcony.

"Marco! You worthless piece of garbage! Where have you been?"

Marco looked up to see his mother-in-law leaning over the railing, her face twisted with rage. "I'm here to pick you up, Mrs. Morrison."

"Pick me up? In what, you pathetic cockroach? Did you steal a shopping cart from the grocery store?" Margaret's laughter was cruel and mocking. "Elena's flight lands in one hour, and you show up looking like a homeless rat!"

"I have transportation arranged—"

"Transportation?" Margaret's voice dripped with contempt. "What kind of garbage truck did you manage to rent this time? Last time you borrowed that piece of junk from your neighbor, I was so embarrassed I wanted to crawl into a hole!"

Patrick Morrison appeared beside his wife, shaking his head in disgust. "This is what happens when you marry beneath your station, Margaret. Look at him—standing there like a beaten dog."

"Don't worry about this useless maggot," Margaret called down. "Tony is bringing his Honda Accord. At least that's a respectable car, unlike whatever trash heap this insect usually drives."

As if on cue, Tony Morrison, Elena's younger brother, pulled up in his silver Honda Accord, music blasting from the speakers. He stepped out wearing designer clothes and a smug expression that immediately grated on Marco's nerves.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Tony sneered, adjusting his expensive sunglasses. "It's my pathetic brother-in-law, the professional beggar."

Marco remained silent, his face impassive.

Tony walked around his car, running his hand along the hood with exaggerated pride. "This beauty cost me thirty-five thousand dollars, Marco. That's probably more than you've made in your entire worthless life."

"It's a nice car, Tony," Marco said quietly.

"Nice?" Tony laughed harshly. "It's magnificent! Unlike whatever piece of scrap metal you usually crawl around in. What was it last time—that rusted bicycle you borrowed from a homeless person?"

Margaret and Patrick had come downstairs, both looking at Marco with undisguised disgust.

"Look at him, Tony," Margaret said, pointing at Marco like he was an exhibit in a zoo. "Standing there in his cheap clothes, probably smelling like that dying rat he calls a mother."

"Speaking of his mother," Patrick added with a cruel smile, "I heard she finally croaked. Good riddance—one less mouth to feed."

Marco's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice level. "My mother is alive and recovering."

"Recovering?" Tony burst into laughter. "From what, being a burden on society? That old cockroach should have died years ago!"

Margaret clapped her hands together mockingly. "Oh, how wonderful! The family of insects continues to multiply! Tell me, Marco, did you manage to scrape together enough pennies from trash cans to pay for her funeral preparations?"

"She's not dead," Marco repeated, his voice growing colder.

"Yet," Tony added with a vicious grin. "Don't worry, brother-in-law, we'll all attend her funeral. I'll even bring my camera to document the moment when the city's biggest pest finally gets exterminated."

Margaret grabbed Tony's arm admiringly. "See this, Marco? This is what a real man looks like. Tony has a career, a car, and dignity. You're just a parasitic worm living off my daughter's charity."

"Now," Tony said, jangling his car keys importantly, "since you obviously don't have proper transportation, you can ride in the back seat of my Honda. Try not to contaminate the leather with your poverty."

"Actually," Marco said calmly, "I have my own transportation today."

The three Morrisons exchanged glances and burst into simultaneous laughter.

"Your own transportation?" Margaret wheezed between laughs. "What did you do, steal another shopping cart?"

"Maybe he upgraded to a bicycle with training wheels!" Tony added, slapping his knee.

"Or perhaps that garbage truck he works on let him borrow it for the day," Patrick suggested, wiping tears from his eyes.

Marco looked at each of them with growing satisfaction. "No, nothing like that."

"Then what is it, you delusional cockroach?" Margaret demanded. "Some imaginary limousine that exists only in your pathetic dreams?"

"Come on, Marco," Tony taunted, "show us this amazing vehicle of yours. We could all use a good laugh."

Marco turned and began walking toward where he had parked the Bentley. The Morrison family followed, still chuckling and making jokes about what piece of junk he might reveal.

"I bet it's that broken-down taxi from three blocks away," Margaret whispered loudly to Patrick. "The one with the missing door and flat tires."

"Or maybe he convinced some homeless person to let him borrow their cardboard box on wheels," Tony added.

But as they rounded the corner, their laughter died abruptly. Sitting in pristine condition was a gleaming black Bentley Continental, its chrome accents reflecting the afternoon sun like mirrors.

Marco walked calmly to the driver's side, pulled out the keys, and pressed the unlock button. The car's lights flashed and the locks clicked open with a soft, expensive sound.

"This is mine," Marco said simply, opening the driver's door.

Margaret's jaw dropped open. Patrick rubbed his eyes as if he were hallucinating. Tony's expensive sunglasses slipped down his nose.

"That's... that's impossible," Margaret stammered. "You can't afford... that car costs..."

"Half a million dollars," Marco finished calmly. "Give or take."

He looked directly at Margaret, his voice carrying a new authority that made her take an involuntary step backward. "Mom, it's better if I drive instead."