The Rise Of The Humiliated Son-in-law

The First Real Trail

The bell above the door chimed softly as Rafe turned toward the voice.

Jacob Levi stood near the entrance of the luxury store, grinning like he owned the place. His navy suit was crisp, his tie knotted perfectly, and his eyes carried that same glint of entitlement Rafe remembered too well.

“Rafe Miller,” Jacob drawled, walking closer with that slow, confident stride of someone who never once doubted the ground beneath him. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Lost, are we?”

Rafe didn’t respond. He simply adjusted the jacket he was holding, his fingers brushing the fine wool fabric.

Jacob laughed, shaking his head. “You always were full of surprises. From begging your wife for lunch money to browsing Hartmann suits? What’s next, a yacht?”

Rafe exhaled through his nose, calm. The insults didn’t sting anymore. They just sounded small.

“I heard about you,” Jacob continued, stepping closer until their reflections shared the same mirror. “The disgrace of the Li family. Raising a small dying cafe from the ashes.” He chuckled. “Now isn’t that something.”

Rafe’s gaze stayed fixed on his reflection. “You done?”

Jacob blinked, amused. “Oh, we’ve grown a spine now?”

“No,” Rafe said quietly. “I just don’t have time for barking dogs.”

Jacob’s smirk faltered, just a fraction, but enough.

Rafe turned to the cashier and handed her the suit. “I’ll take this one.”

The woman nodded and scanned it. “That’ll be £1,450, sir.”

Jacob chuckled under his breath. “Sure, sure. Let me guess, you’ll put it on credit? Maybe you should call Clara to—”

Rafe slid his black card across the counter.

The payment went through instantly.

Transaction Approved.

Jacob’s words froze mid-sentence.

The cashier smiled politely. “Would you like it wrapped, Mr. Miller?”

“Yes. I’ll wear it out.”

As she packed the suit, Rafe turned his head slightly, meeting Jacob’s shocked stare. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jacob tried to cover his surprise with a smirk. “Didn’t know your… charity benefits paid that well.”

Rafe took the bag from the counter. “Maybe you just didn’t know how to work hard for anything.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened, but before he could fire back, Rafe had already walked past him, silent, poised, the kind of silence that carried weight.

Outside, the cold London air brushed against his face. The city lights shimmered on the wet pavement.

As he crossed the street, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

[New Mission Unlocked.] MISSION: Expose the Snake. Objective: Reveal the truth behind your downfall. Reward: Unknown.]

Rafe stopped walking. The words glowed softly against the dark screen, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Expose the snake…” he murmured.

He looked up, the reflection of the store window caught Jacob’s figure still inside, peering through the glass. Watching him.

Rafe slipped the phone back into his pocket and walked away.

Inside the store, Jacob stood frozen for a moment, staring at the empty doorway Rafe had just walked through.

He turned toward the cashier. “You’re sure that card went through?”

She gave him a polite but puzzled look. “Yes, sir. Fully approved.”

Jacob frowned. That shouldn’t have been possible. Rafe was supposed to be broke, blacklisted by the Li Group, left with nothing but debt.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed a number.

“Hello? Mrs. Li?” His voice dripped with false charm. “You might want to sit down. I just saw your ex-son-in-law drop nearly fifteen hundred pounds on a suit. Cash. No hesitation.”

There was silence on the other end, then a low, disbelieving chuckle.

“You must be joking,” came Mr. Li’s voice instead.

“No joke, sir,” Jacob said quickly. “He looked different. Calm. Confident. Like he’s got something going on.”

“Impossible,” Mr Li growled. “That useless fool doesn’t even have a place to stay.”

“I’m telling you, sir,” Jacob insisted. “I saw it with my own eyes. He’s got money now. Maybe he—”

“Enough.”

The single word cut sharp through the line.

Mr. Li’s voice came again, slower, colder.

“Where did you say you saw him?”

“Oxford Street. Hartmann & Sons.”

There was a pause. Then the quiet click of a lighter. The faint sound of smoke exhaled.

“So, the rat still crawls in my city,” Mr. Li muttered. “He thinks he can live without us. After everything he did? He’s moving around with my money he stole?.”

“Are you going to do something or should I?” Jacob asked carefully.

“No. I’ll handle this.”

The line went dead.

Jacob took the phone out of his ear and tucked it in his pocket, as he turned to leave the glass reflected a very devious grin on his face.

Back at the Li penthouse, the night was heavy with quiet resentment.

Clara sat on the couch, a glass of red wine in hand, as usual.

Her mother was scrolling through social media, ignoring her daughter’s silence.

Her father stood by the window, phone still in hand, eyes like stone.

“So it’s true,” Clara said finally, bitterness creeping into her voice. “He really bought that suit?”

Mr. Li turned to her. “You sound disappointed.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly. Then added, “It’s just… strange. He couldn’t even afford a taxi before, now he’s uplifting cafés and buying expensive suits?!” She huffed.

Her mother scoffed. “Maybe he found another woman to pity him.”

Mr. Li said nothing. He simply stared into the garden, rain trickling down the glass like veins.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Rafe Miller was supposed to be a lesson. A man who couldn’t survive without us. If he’s thriving now…”

He turned, eyes dark and cold.

“…then someone forgot their place.”

Clara looked uneasy. “Father, you’re not saying—”

He raised a hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he remembers it.”

Meanwhile, Rafe had walked several blocks away, his thoughts still replaying Jacob’s sneer and the System’s mission alert.

“Expose the snake,” he whispered again.

He didn’t know exactly who it was yet. Was it Jacob? Lord Li? That useless boy, Jordan? Was it Clara? Someone else behind the embezzlement scandal?

But for the first time, he didn’t feel lost. He felt directed. Like he had a plan and despite the setbacks, everything was going accordingly.

Then, somewhere across the city, in a private room on the top floor of the Li penthouse, a shadow moved.

Mr. Li sat at his desk, speaking quietly into the phone.

“Yes. That’s him. Oxford Street. I want it handled quietly.”

The man on the other end grunted acknowledgment.

“Make it look like an accident. Break a few bones.”

Mr. Li ended the call and leaned back, exhaling slowly.

He glanced at the framed photo on his desk, Clara and her mother smiling, Rafe standing awkwardly behind them, a tired smile on his face. 

He turned the frame face down.

“You should’ve stayed buried, boy,” he murmured.

Outside, lightning cracked the sky.

And somewhere in the rain-soaked city, Rafe Miller walked unknowingly toward the first real trial.