The Secret Billionaire Son-in-law

CHAPTER 1: THE FOOTSTOOL OF THE COLLINS FAMILY

"Careful, you useless trash! If you scratch a single pearl on that display, you won't be able to pay for it even if you sell your organs!"

The harsh, screeching voice of Evelyn Collins echoed through the grand banquet hall of the Golden Leaf Hotel.

Ethan Vance quietly adjusted the massive, crystal-embedded floral archway, his knuckles white from the strain. He wore a faded, slightly oversized suit that had clearly been bought from a thrift store. Compared to the glittering luxury of the venue, he looked entirely out of place.

"I'm keeping an eye on it, Mother," Ethan said softly, keeping his gaze trained on the floor.

"Don't call me mother! I’ve told you a thousand times, you don't deserve to use that word!" Evelyn sneered, her heavily jeweled hands resting on her hips. "For three years, you’ve done nothing but eat our food, live under our roof, and embarrass my daughter. Look at you! Tonight is the most important night in the history of the Collins family, and you look like a beggar who sneaked in through the back door."

Ethan didn't reply. He simply turned back to adjusting the heavy display.

For three years, he had endured this. Three years of being the ultimate punching bag for the Collins family. They called him a parasite, a live-in loser, and a waste of space.

No one in this city knew the truth. Three years ago, the supreme patriarch of the Vance Group—the wealthiest, most powerful conglomerate in the country—had issued a final trial to his sole heir. Ethan was stripped of his black cards, his luxury cars, and his status. He was ordered to live as an absolute nobody at the very bottom of society for exactly thirty-six months to test his resolve and character.

He had met Chloe Collins during his first month of poverty when he was starving on the streets. She had handed him a warm meal and a kind smile. Later, due to a strange twist of fate and her grandfather's dying wish, Chloe had married him.

Ethan had vowed to protect her and give her the entire world once his trial was over. But over the last three years, the relentless whispering of her family had taken its toll. The warmth in Chloe's eyes had gradually been replaced by a cold, heavy disappointment.

The heavy double doors of the banquet hall swung open, and a tall man in a sharp, tailored burgundy suit walked in, flanked by two assistants. It was Dexter Collins, Chloe’s arrogant cousin and the favored golden boy of the family company.

"Aunt Evelyn, is everything ready?" Dexter asked, dusting an imaginary speck of ash off his lapel. "The guests are already arriving downstairs. The city's top officials, the biggest real estate moguls... they're all coming tonight. And most importantly, the mysterious young billionaire who just took over the Vance Group is scheduled to make his first public appearance right here!"

Evelyn’s face instantly lit up with a groveling, ecstatic smile. "Everything is perfect, Dexter! My Chloe is just finishing her makeup. Once she appears, she will surely catch the eye of the Vance Group’s supreme tycoon. If we get their investment—or better yet, if Chloe secures his interest—our family will become a first-rate empire overnight!"

Dexter nodded proudly, then his eyes landed on Ethan, who was quietly wiping down the glass tables nearby. A look of intense disgust flashed across Dexter’s face.

"Why is this trash still here?" Dexter walked over, his expensive leather shoes clicking loudly against the polished marble. "Ethan, didn't I tell you to stay in the kitchen? You're a jinx. If the Vance Group tycoon sees a pathetic loser like you hovering around Chloe, it will ruin our family's image!"

"I'm just finishing up the setup as requested," Ethan said calmly.

"Is that so? Well, I don't think you're doing a good enough job." Dexter smirked. He purposely lifted his foot and kicked the base of the crystal floral archway.

The heavy structure wobbled violently before crashing down onto the glass display table. With a deafening shatter, thousands of dollars worth of crystal ornaments and premium glass exploded across the floor.

"Oh my god!" Evelyn gasped, covering her mouth.

Dexter didn't blink. He stepped forward, raising his polished leather shoe, and slammed it directly onto Ethan’s hand as Ethan knelt to catch the falling pieces. The sharp heel ground into Ethan's knuckles.

"Look what you did, you clumsy idiot!" Dexter shouted loudly, his voice echoing so the arriving staff could hear. "You just ruined the centerpiece! You did this on purpose because you're jealous of our family's success!"

Ethan felt the sharp pain in his hand, but he didn't cry out. He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto Dexter with a coldness that made Dexter’s heart skip a beat for a split second.

"What are you looking at? Are you angry?" Dexter laughed, pulling his foot back and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and threw them directly at Ethan’s face. The loose cash scattered over Ethan's head and the broken glass. "Here. Consider it a tip for cleaning up your own mess."

Right then, the door to the VIP dressing room opened, and Chloe Collins stepped out. She looked absolutely breathtaking in an elegant emerald-green evening gown that hugged her curves perfectly, her hair styled in soft, sophisticated waves.

She froze, looking at the shattered glass, the scattered money, and her husband kneeling on the floor.

"What happened here?" Chloe asked, rushing over, her brow furrowed.

"Chloe, you're just in time!" Evelyn rushed to her daughter's side, grabbing her arm. "Look at this useless husband of yours! He just destroyed the main venue display right before the guests arrived! Dexter was kind enough to offer him money to compensate for his mistake, but he's just sitting there acting stubborn!"

Chloe looked down at Ethan. There was no anger in her eyes—only a profound, exhausting weariness.

"Ethan... why can't you just keep your head down for one night?" Chloe whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Just one night. My family's entire future depends on this gala. Why do you always have to make things harder for me?"

Ethan looked up at his wife. "Chloe, it wasn't me. Dexter kicked it."

"Shut up!" Evelyn yelled. "Are you calling my nephew a liar? Dexter drives a Porsche and manages a multi-million dollar division! Why would he care about a cheap display? You're just trying to shift the blame!"

Evelyn reached into her designer purse and aggressively pulled out a crisp, white document, slamming it onto the glass table next to the shattered crystal.

"It doesn't matter anyway. Chloe, give it to him," Evelyn ordered coldly. "The Vance Group tycoon is coming tonight. He is young, unmarried, and holds the wealth of the entire nation. Our family is not going to let a penniless trash like Ethan stand in the way of your true potential."

Ethan looked at the bold letters at the top of the document: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

Chloe’s eyes flickered with guilt, but she didn't stop her mother. She looked away, her voice tightening. "Ethan... I tried. For three years, I waited for you to do something with your life. But tonight proves we belong in two different worlds. Sign it and leave. You shouldn't be here when the tycoon arrives."

Dexter chuckled darkly, scooping up the document and pen, forcing them into Ethan's bleeding hand. "Sign it, loser. Let Chloe pursue a real man."

Ethan looked at the paper, then at Chloe, who refused to meet his eyes. A cold, sharp clarity washed over him. The three years of waiting, the secret devotion—it all crystallized into this single moment. He took the pen and firmly signed his name at the bottom.

"I hope you don't regret this, Chloe," Ethan said quietly, tossing the pen aside.

"Regret divorcing a beggar? In your dreams!" Evelyn barked. She grabbed the signed papers, shoved Ethan toward the exit, and signaled two large hotel security guards. "Throw him out the back door! If he tries to sneak back in, break his legs!"

The guards grabbed Ethan by his arms, dragging him publicly past the whispering, pointing hotel staff, and literally threw him out into the dark alleyway behind the hotel.

As his feet hit the wet asphalt, a torrential downpour slammed into the city. The cold rain soaked him completely within seconds.

Ethan stood up slowly in the dark alleyway, away from the glittering streetlights, completely unfazed by the mud on his thrift-store suit. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, heavily scratched, generic flip phone—the only item he had been allowed to keep to receive the final notification of his trial.

The digital clock on the screen ticked over. 12:00 AM.

The exact date and time had arrived. Three years to the second.

Suddenly, the screen of the dead phone flashed bright gold. A notification popped up: [Trial Completed. Status Restored.]

Ethan’s gaze grew incredibly sharp, the submissive, quiet demeanor he had worn for three years vanishing instantly. He flipped the phone open and dialed a number he had memorized by heart.

The call was picked up on the very first ring. An elderly, trembling voice filled with absolute reverence spoke through the speaker.

"Young Master... is it really you?"

"It's me, Thomas," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a deep, commanding tone that carried the natural weight of supreme authority. "My three years are up. Pick me up at the back of the Golden Leaf Hotel."

"Yes, Young Master! We have been waiting for this day for three long years! The entire Vance Group awaits your command!"

Ethan clicked the phone shut. He looked back up at the glowing penthouse suite of the hotel where the Collins family gala was taking place. A cold, dangerous smile played on his lips.

The live-in loser was dead. The king had returned.