The Useless Son-in-Law Is a Hidden Tycoon

Chapter 4: The Cold Household

The black luxury sedan glided silently through the dark streets.

Aren sat in the quiet back seat, staring out at the passing city lights.

His body felt exhausted, but his mind was sharp and clear.

For three years, the Richards mansion had never truly felt like his home.

He had prepared their daily meals, washed their mountain of dishes, and handled countless household chores from his wheelchair every single day.

They treated him like garbage simply because he could not walk.

Tonight, he was going back one last time to collect his few personal things.

The car stopped outside the grand gates of the Richards mansion.

"Do you want me to come inside with you, Young Master?" Xavier asked, looking into the rearview mirror.

"No," Aren said softly. "I will handle this myself."

Xavier stepped out, unloaded the wheelchair from the trunk, and carefully helped Aren settle into the seat.

Aren pressed the armrest control, rolling himself toward the heavy front door of the house.

Inside the bright living room, Helen Richards was sitting on a soft leather sofa.

She was sipping expensive tea while talking loudly on her phone.

Her husband, Paul Richards, sat nearby, reading a business magazine.

Two young housemaids stood by the hallway, giggling softly behind their hands as they pointed at him.

When the front door clicked open and Aren rolled in, Helen instantly hung up her call.

Her face twisted into a look of deep disgust.

"Look who finally crawled back," Helen sneered, her loud voice ringing through the room.

Paul did not even look up from his magazine. "Did you sign the papers, you useless cripple?"

"I signed them," Aren said quietly.

Helen let out a sharp, joyful laugh.

"Finally!" she cheered, standing up and slamming her teacup onto the table. "Three years of feeding a useless crippled leech under my roof are finally over!"

She walked over to Aren, pointing her finger right at his forehead.

"Pack your trash and get out tonight," Helen ordered, her voice full of ice. "Jasmine is bringing Nikolai over for a grand dinner to celebrate. A real man like Nikolai should not have to see a pathetic dog like you sitting in our living room!"

One of the housemaids, Sarah, stepped forward with a cruel laugh.

"Good luck finding a street corner to beg on, Aren," Sarah mocked, loudly giggling with the other maid. "Who is going to clean up after you now?"

Aren did not get angry.

He did not yell at them, and he did not defend himself.

He simply looked into Helen's greedy eyes, remembering how he had cared for her when she was sick in bed last year.

He had washed her medicine cups, prepped her light meals, and stayed awake all night to watch over her from his chair.

She had forgotten all of it the moment a richer man appeared.

Aren turned his wheelchair toward the small bedroom near the back of the house.

Suddenly, his small front wheel got caught on the thick edge of the living room rug.

The wheelchair jolted to a complete stop, tipping slightly to the side.

Aren strained his upper body, trying to push the wheels, but his legs remained motionless, unable to help him regain control.

Helen and the maids burst into loud, hysterical laughter.

"Look at him!" Helen cackled, clapping her hands. "He cannot even roll three feet without failing! You are completely helpless!"

Sarah walked over and kicked the wheel hard, knocking it free with a dismissive scoff. "Get moving, burden!"

Aren kept his face entirely expressionless.

He simply straightened his back and continued toward his room.

He rolled into the cramped room beside the laundry area—the closest thing the Richards family had ever given him to a bedroom.

They had refused to let him use a proper bedroom upstairs because they did not want his wheelchair cluttering their grand hallway.

Aren opened his small wooden closet.

He pulled out a single duffel bag and placed it on his lap.

He packed three plain shirts, two pairs of pants, and a cheap winter coat he had bought himself.

He did not touch any of the clothes or shoes Jasmine had bought for him over the years.

He wanted nothing from this family.

As he zipped the bag shut, Jasmine entered the room with Nikolai following behind her.

Her face was pale, and she was holding her phone tightly in her hand.

"Are you really leaving tonight?" Jasmine asked, her voice tight.

"You told me to sign the papers," Aren replied, placing the bag across his knees. "I am just following your wishes."

Nikolai smirked, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets.

"Let him leave, Jasmine," Nikolai mocked smoothly. "A useless man belongs in the street. Besides, your mother made a feast for us upstairs."

Jasmine looked at Aren’s small bag, feeling a sudden, strange tightness in her chest.

She expected him to hesitate.

She expected him to ask where he would sleep tonight, considering he had no money and no family left.

Instead, Aren's expression remained calm and unreadable.

He pressed the knob on his wheelchair and rolled right past them into the hallway.

Helen stood near the front door, holding a broom in her hand.

"Hurry up and roll out of here!" Helen yelled, sweeping the floor violently behind his wheels. "If you ever come back here to beg for money, I will set the dogs on you!"

Aren reached the front door and opened it.

He rolled down the stone ramp into the cold night air.

Behind him, Helen slammed the massive front door shut with a loud crash, locking the deadbolt tight.

Aren stopped in the driveway for a moment.

He looked back at the grand mansion one last time.

For three years, he had tried to build a warm home inside those walls.

Now, he felt completely free.

The black sedan rolled up the driveway, its bright headlights cutting through the dark night.

Xavier stepped out instantly, running over to open the rear door.

He took Aren's duffel bag and helped him into the comfortable leather seat.

"Where are we sleeping tonight, Young Master?" Xavier asked as he folded the wheelchair into the trunk.

"Take me to the Grand Horizon Hotel," Aren said softly.

Xavier got into the driver’s seat and started the powerful engine.

"The entire top floor penthouse has been prepared for you, sir," Xavier reported respectfully. "Also, I have compiled a list of three struggling companies in the city as you requested."

Aren leaned back against the headrest, looking out at the city lights.

"Tell me about the first one," Aren ordered.

"It is Starburst Tech," Xavier explained as he pulled out onto the main road. "They were once a promising firm, but their former CEO left behind massive debts after several failed investments and disappeared after transferring part of the company's remaining assets to shell companies."

A faint smile appeared on Aren’s face.

"Perfect," Aren said quietly. "Acquire a controlling stake before the market reacts tomorrow morning."

Back inside the Richards mansion, the dinner table was covered with grand dishes and wine.

Helen was pouring wine for Nikolai, laughing at every joke he made.

Suddenly, Jasmine’s phone buzzed violently on the table.

She picked it up fast, seeing her chief financial officer's name on the screen.

"What is it now? I've already had a long day! What happened this time?!" Jasmine asked, stepping away from the dinner table.

"President Richards! We have a massive crisis!" the officer panicked over the phone.

"Our secondary bank has canceled our credit line. They're demanding repayment of the entire twenty-million-dollar loan by tomorrow afternoon!"

Jasmine’s face turned paper-white, and her wine glass slipped from her hand, smashing into tiny pieces on the floor.