The Useless Son-in-Law Is a Hidden Tycoon

Chapter 2: Sign Without Begging

Aren’s black pen moved smoothly across the white paper.

He signed his name on the line for the husband, his handwriting firm and completely steady.

There were no tears in his eyes.

His hand did not tremble, and his breathing remained slow and even.

Jasmine watched him in complete shock.

She had prepared herself for a long, ugly scene.

She expected Aren to weep, to grab her hands, or to spin his wheelchair around her desk to block her path.

She expected him to remind her of their three years together and beg for one more chance.

Instead, Aren was signing away his marriage as calmly as if he were signing a simple delivery note.

"You are not even going to fight for us?" Jasmine asked, her voice tight with a strange, sudden offense. "Is that all our marriage meant to you?"

Aren paused, his pen resting lightly on the second page.

He looked up at her, his dark eyes calm and unreadable.

"Fight for us?" Aren asked softly. "You just kissed another man on my birthday, Jasmine. What is left to fight for?"

"Don't put all the blame on me!" Jasmine snapped, her cheeks flushing red with anger.

"Look at what our life has been! For three long years, you sat in that wheelchair doing nothing! You have zero ambition, no career, and no future!"

"When your company was on the brink of failing two years ago, who stayed up with you every single night?"

Aren asked, his voice steady. "Who made sure you ate? Who took care of your sick parents so you could focus on your business? I stayed beside you through your hardest years without ever asking for a single cent in return."

Jasmine scoffed, waving her hand with pure disdain.

"Cooking meals and taking care of house chores is what a servant does, Aren!" Jasmine sneered.

"A real husband builds an empire! Nikolai brought me a major partnership today. He can give me the life, status, and luxury you could never give me in a hundred lifetimes!"

Aren looked at Nikolai, who stood beside her with a smug, triumphant smile.

Then Aren turned his eyes back to Jasmine, his gaze cool, calm, and completely unreadable.

"Nikolai brought you that life?" Aren said quietly, his voice smooth and steady. "Then you had better make sure Nikolai is truly capable of keeping everything you think you are about to gain."

Nikolai’s smirk faltered slightly.

Something in Aren’s calm voice made Nikolai’s smile disappear for a moment.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jasmine frowned, feeling an uneasy knot tighten in her stomach.

Before Aren could speak, the screen of Jasmine’s phone lit up on the desk.

It was a video call from her mother, Helen Richards.

Jasmine tapped the screen and answered, placing the phone on speaker.

"Jasmine!" Helen’s sharp, loud voice echoed through the office speaker. "Has that useless crippled son-in-law signed those papers yet? Do not let him drag his feet!"

"He is signing them right now, Mom," Jasmine said, glancing down at Aren in his wheelchair.

"Good! Throw his things out the door!" Helen laughed with deep satisfaction.

"Your father and I have been waiting for this day for three years! Make sure you bring Nikolai over for dinner tonight. We bought the finest wine to celebrate your new beginning with a real man!"

"We will be there soon, Mrs. Richards," Nikolai chimed in smoothly, flashing a fake, polite smile at the phone screen.

"Wonderful! Drive safely, Nikolai!" Helen said cheerfully before hanging up the call.

Aren listened to the entire conversation without a single change in his expression.

He had listened to Helen’s insults for three whole years.

He had spent three years serving a family that never once treated him like he belonged to it.

Now, he felt absolutely nothing for any of them.

Aren signed the final page of the divorce papers with a sharp flick of his wrist.

He capped his pen, slid the white folder back across the polished desk, and left his untouched birthday cake sitting right beside it.

"We are done," Aren said softly.

He pressed the control switch on his armrest, turning his wheelchair around smoothly.

For three years, he had swallowed his dignity and tried to be the humble husband she claimed she wanted.

Now, he wheeled himself away without asking for a single place in her life.

He rolled out of the office and into the quiet executive hallway toward the elevators.

Behind him, Jasmine stared at the signed papers on her desk, feeling a strange, uncomfortable emptiness in her chest.

She had won, yet Aren’s cold, absolute calm made her feel like she was the one who had just lost something important.

Just as Aren pushed the elevator call button, a sharp, loud buzz echoed from the desk phone inside Jasmine’s office.

Jasmine frowned and picked up the line. "What is it?"

"President Richards!" her chief secretary shouted over the line, her voice trembling with sheer panic. "The legal team from our primary supplier just called! They are freezing our master account immediately!"