The Underdog Son-in-law

006

For a moment, no one spoke.

The silence that followed Lucien Morveau’s words was not dramatic, not explosive. It was tighter than that—compressed and uneasy, like a room holding its breath after realizing it had laughed too early. A few people shifted in their seats. Someone cleared their throat, then seemed to regret the sound.

“That can’t be right,” a man said finally, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Replicas are everywhere now. Even experts get fooled.”

Lucien turned his head slowly, regarding him with calm curiosity. There was no offense in his gaze, no irritation, only a mild patience that suggested he was accustomed to being doubted by people who would eventually stop talking.

“I don’t,” he said simply.

The words landed without emphasis.

Another relative leaned forward, frowning. “Surely there’s been some confusion. These markets are volatile. Provenance changes hands all the time.”

Lucien nodded once. “It does. Which is why those of us who live in them learn to look past labels.”

He gestured lightly toward the sculpture, his fingers hovering near its base without touching it again. 

"Let's confirm the truth! I will get the original monk!"

Heart still as a call went through, everyone knew his voice, he was a media personality and an advocate of spiritual well being.

"I don't have any of such in my collection anymore!" The monk said.

"Thank you!"

The crowd barely beard further, their knees chuckled and Edrin wished the earth would happen up and swallow him.

They could not even dare to look at Caelen.

"But the wine does make up for any absurdity on this table. Whoever got it definitely has a wealth of connections!" There was no dispute about his words this time.

While everyone groveled still in their shock, his attention drifted back to the bottle resting near Caelen’s place.

 He reached for it without ceremony, drawing a corkscrew from his pocket as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

“Old friend, we should have a toast!"

The cork came free with a soft, restrained sound, barely audible, but the aroma that followed spread through the room with quiet authority. It did not rush. It did not announce itself loudly. It settled instead, layered and deep, unfamiliar in a way that made conversation falter without anyone consciously deciding to stop.

Lucien inhaled gently.

His expression shifted—not to surprise, but to recognition.

He poured into his own glass first, lifting it with care. The sip he took was small, measured. He held the wine briefly, as if listening to it, before swallowing.

A nod.

Aldric Halwen leaned forward, his hand trembling slightly as Lucien offered him a glass. The old man hesitated only a moment before drinking. His eyes closed, just for an instant, then opened again, sharper than they had been all evening.

The change rippled outward.

He took more after more, the flavours bursting through the whole of his being.

The Halwen's almost died just looking at the bottles, the aroma suffocated their nostrils and pride tied their tongues until they could not hold it anymore.

There was just one bottle left and it felt like they would die if they didn't have a taste of it instantly.

Glasses were lifted one by one, not eagerly, but cautiously, as though tasting would confirm something the room was not prepared to accept. 

Their eyes flashed, the flavors bursting in their mouths. The aftertaste caused their tongues to bristle with so much joy. 

Shame was gone for a moment, Lady Hawlen turned the bottles over to take the last sip.

After a long stretch of tongue, they kept tasting their tongues for the taste they had not felt in their lives before.

The laughter did not return.

Shame moved through the table quietly, unacknowledged but unmistakable. It lingered in the way eyes avoided one another, in the sudden carefulness of gestures that had been loud and confident moments earlier.

A woman laughed weakly, then stopped when no one joined her.

Silence settled again, this time weighted.

Eyes began to drift toward Caelen—not with admiration, not even with respect, but with uncertainty, questions lingering in their minds.

 As if the room were trying to decide whether it had misjudged him, or whether it was simply too late to correct course.

“Where did you get it?” someone asked at last.

The question was cautious now, stripped of mockery.

Caelen lifted his gaze slowly. “A friend,” he said.

They could not let someone like Caelen embarrass them, not when he was someone that was way below their leagues.

Wines or no wine, he could never get close to their status not in this life or this life to come.

A few people laughed again, defensive this time, the sound brittle.

“A friend,” Lady Halwen repeated, her voice sharp. “Of course.” 

"Leeching off on some other persons since he could no longer leech off on our family."

Edrin straightened then, recovering with visible effort. He smiled, the expression practiced and controlled, and leaned forward slightly as though to reclaim the room.

"At least Edrin made an effort! He must have been scammed by the middle man!" Lady Halwen noted with a sneer at Caelen.

"Exactly, just what I thought, he's still useless!" 

Edrin's ego gradually slipped back to him, they had offered the validation he needed even though he knew the truth.

But he didn't care, they had offered him a way out and he was definitely going to take it.

“Coincidences happen,” he said smoothly. “This doesn’t change the larger picture.”

The family seized on the opening.

“Yes,” someone said quickly. “It’s impressive, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

Another nodded. “Anyone could get lucky once.”

Edrin inclined his head, modest once more. “Exactly. Which is why I prefer to focus on things that matter long-term.”

He paused, letting the room lean in.

“My family is finalizing a partnership,” he continued. “A very significant one.”

He named the company deliberately.

Aurex Dominion Group.

The reaction was immediate. Gasps followed, murmurs spreading like wildfire. That name carried weight far beyond the table—global capital, political reach, the kind of corporation that reshaped industries without explanation.

“That’s impossible,” someone whispered.

Edrin smiled faintly. “Negotiations are delicate,” he said. “But promising.”

Getting such a partnership meant their family would sore in the food chain almost instantly.

Hearts paused mostly with admiration.

"While the only thing other people have been doing is becoming poorer!" 

Relief crept back into the room. Pride followed close behind. Heads nodded, shoulders straightening as if the world had been set right again.

Lyra smiled warmly.

Then Caelen spoke, almost casually.

“They restructured that division last quarter,” he said.

The words were light, almost conversational, and they cut cleanly through the room.

Edrin paused.

Just for a fraction of a second.

Lyra frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Caelen looked toward Edrin, his expression neutral. “Aurex Strategic Holdings doesn’t approve those contracts anymore,” he added. “Not directly.”

A few people glanced between them, confused.

Edrin smiled again, but this time it took effort. “That’s not what my sources say.”

Caelen inclined his head slightly. “They might be outdated.”

Silence crept back in.

Lyra stared at Caelen, something unsettled flickering behind her eyes. “You’re saying that like you know anything about business,” she said sharply.

"Anything that floats your boots!"

"Such an arsehole!"

Just then, notification chimed into their cell phones.

"Aurex Dominic Division Update!"​