The Useful Son In-Law

Chapter 3: The Mockery At The Banquet

The Daniels household buzzed with excitement two nights later. A grand banquet was being hosted at the most prestigious hotel in the city. The Daniels family was set to be honored for their “strategic partnership” with EastGate Corporation. It was a night meant to showcase prestige, power, and influence—everything the family prided themselves on.

For Michael, however, such gatherings always came with hidden barbs.

As Clara adjusted her necklace in front of the mirror, she glanced at her husband, who was calmly buttoning his plain suit jacket. Unlike her cousins’ husbands, who flaunted branded tuxedos and expensive watches, Michael’s attire was simple, even understated.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” she said softly.

Michael met her eyes in the mirror and smiled faintly. “And leave you alone in that den of wolves? Not a chance.”

Clara’s lips curved in the ghost of a smile, though it quickly vanished. She knew how vicious her relatives could be. Still, there was something strangely reassuring about his calm presence.

The hotel ballroom glittered with chandeliers, the air rich with the scent of wine and perfume. Guests mingled, laughter and clinking glasses filling the room. The Daniels family occupied the center of attention, basking in the admiration of business partners and social elites.

Michael walked beside Clara, silent and observant, while whispers trailed behind them.

“Isn’t that the Daniels’ son-in-law? The one with no job?”

“Useless man. Doesn’t even match her status.”

“I heard he lives off the family like a parasite.”

The words were hushed but not hidden. They were meant for him to hear. Michael’s expression remained unchanged, as though the insults were mere gusts of wind brushing past him. Clara, however, stiffened with every remark.

At the far end of the hall, David raised his glass in greeting. His smirk widened when his gaze landed on Michael.

“Well, well,” David said loudly as the couple approached, ensuring nearby guests could hear. “The Daniels’ very own… guest of honor.”

Laughter rippled through the group. One of the cousins chimed in, “Tell us, Michael, what grand contribution have you made to tonight’s celebration? Did you perhaps… iron Clara’s dress?”

More laughter.

Clara’s fists clenched at her sides. “That’s enough,” she snapped.

David waved a dismissive hand. “Relax, sister. We’re only teasing. After all, what else is he good for?”

Michael’s calm gaze swept over them. His voice was mild, yet it cut through the laughter with surprising weight.

“Sometimes, silence achieves more than noise. Would you like me to prove it tonight?”

The group blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected reply.

David scoffed. “And how exactly would you do that? Recite poetry for the guests? Please, Michael, don’t embarrass us further.”

Michael only smiled faintly, offering no explanation. That quiet confidence unsettled Clara’s cousins more than if he had shouted.

As the evening progressed, the highlight of the banquet arrived—the formal signing ceremony between Daniels Enterprises and EastGate Corporation. Cameras flashed as Harold Daniels and EastGate’s CEO shook hands on stage. Applause thundered across the ballroom.

Michael’s gaze, however, lingered not on the handshake but on the EastGate representatives. He noted their forced smiles, the nervous flicker in their eyes, the way their chief financial officer avoided making direct contact with journalists. These were the subtle cracks he had been waiting for.

“Clara,” he murmured quietly, “watch carefully. Tonight will mark the beginning of their downfall.”

She looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

But before he could answer, an announcement echoed through the hall.

“Attention, ladies and gentlemen,” the host called. “EastGate Corporation has prepared a generous gift to symbolize this partnership.”

A team of waiters wheeled in a covered display. With dramatic flair, the cloth was pulled back, revealing a dazzling golden sculpture of two hands clasped together—a symbol of unity. The guests gasped in awe.

But Michael’s eyes narrowed. The sculpture was exquisite, yes, but he recognized its design. It wasn’t original. It was a counterfeit copy of a renowned artist’s work, one that had been stolen months ago and was still under investigation by the art world.

Whispers of admiration filled the room, but Michael leaned toward Clara.

“That piece is stolen property.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“Wait. You’ll see.”

Moments later, just as the EastGate CEO began his speech, a commotion erupted at the entrance. Uniformed officers strode into the ballroom, their presence instantly silencing the crowd.

“EastGate Corporation,” the lead officer declared, his voice sharp, “you are under investigation for fraud and possession of stolen art.”

Gasps filled the air. Cameras clicked furiously. The CEO’s face turned ashen.

“No—this is a misunderstanding!” he stammered.

But the officers ignored him, moving swiftly toward the golden sculpture. In seconds, the banquet turned chaotic. Reporters swarmed, capturing the shocking downfall of EastGate in real time.

The Daniels family sat frozen in disbelief. Their proud partnership, celebrated just minutes ago, had crumbled into scandal before the entire city.

David’s face drained of color. Harold Daniels’ hands trembled.

And in the corner of the room, Michael sat calmly, sipping his wine as though he had predicted this outcome all along.

Clara turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “You… knew this would happen?”

Michael met her gaze steadily. “I told you. The truth always reveals itself.”

For the first time, she didn’t see him as useless. She saw him as a man who saw further than anyone else.

But around them, the Daniels family’s empire had just been shaken to its core.