UNWANTED SON-IN-LAW

The scent of aged blood and decay hung thick in the basement.

With his hands secured behind his back and his mouth split open from an earlier strike, Nathan Porter knelt on the hard floor. David Porter loomed above him like a wall of muscle and expensive cologne. Marcus’s fist connected with Nathan’s jaw once more.

“You believe you can consume our meals, rest beneath our roof, and provide nothing in exchange?” he demanded. The room spun. “You are worthless.”

Nathan tasted metal. He stayed silent. Speaking only made things worse.

“Respond!” Marcus grabbed his hair, pulling his head upward.

“I… I am searching for employment,” Nathan managed.

Marcus laughed. The sound was harsh. “Employment? You? My sister wed a beast, not a person.”

Footsteps echoed down the staircase. A woman’s shoes clicked on wood.

“Marcus, Mother needs you upstairs.” The voice was distant, emotionless. “Some of us have genuine work to handle.”

Nathan looked up through puffed eyes. She stood in the opening, light shining from above. Tall. Crisp business suit. Dark hair pulled back so tightly it seemed ready to slice.

His spouse.

Victoria Hayes. No, Victoria Porter now, though she never spoke his surname.

“I was simply teaching your spouse proper conduct,” Marcus said, releasing Nathan’s hair. His head dropped.

“You are wasting effort.” Victoria did not even glance at Nathan. “He has no conduct to improve. Come. Father is waiting.”

Marcus kicked Nathan in the ribs as he moved past. “Wash yourself before the meal. You repulse me.”

The noise of their steps disappeared.

The door closed with a bang. Everything went black.

Blood fell onto the concrete as Nathan remained alone in the quiet. His ribs screamed. His face pulsed. But the hollow ache in his center was more painful than any injury. He had transformed three years back. Three years earlier, he had promise.

Then the catastrophe happened. The deception. The collapse.

Now he was this. Empty. No one.

He opened his eyes and recalled his father’s final words: “Persist, Nathan. Regardless of what happens. Persist.”

Two hours later, Nathan climbed the staircase. Every movement hurt his ribs. He had rinsed the blood from his face in the basement sink, but the marks remained.

The Blackwell Estate stretched before him like a monument to riches he would never possess. Polished stone surfaces. Sparkling fixtures. Artwork worth more than regular people make yearly.

He was a spot on their flawless existence.

In the cooking area, the cook barely noticed him. “Bring this to the dining area. Do not break it.”

Nathan took the platter. His hands shook, but he steadied them. He could not make another error.

The dining area was like a courtroom. The extended table could seat twelve, but only five sat tonight. At the far end was Edward Blackwell, head of the Blackwell clan, leader of Blackwell Industries. Next to him sat his spouse Caroline, decorated with gems. Then Marcus, displaying the same pleased grin. And beside him, Victoria, her expression frozen.

The empty seat at the distant end belonged to him. The servant’s spot.

“You are tardy,” Edward remarked without raising his gaze from his drink.

“I regret it.” Nathan positioned the platter, laying out each plate with meticulous care.

“You regret it?” Caroline’s tone was piercing. “You should feel honored we permit you to share our air.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do not address me that way. I am not your guardian.” She dismissed him with a gesture. “Be still and quiet.”

Nathan went to his seat. As he sat, agony shot through his middle. He bit his tongue to keep from gasping.

Victoria’s gaze touched him for one moment. Then shifted away.

“Victoria, describe the Redwell city Heights Development,” Edward remarked, cutting his meat.

“The agreement is nearly done,” Victoria answered. Her voice was business-like, emotionless. “We should finalize papers by the conclusion of the week. It will be our biggest deal this cycle.”

“Perfect. You make me pleased, offspring.”

Something broke inside Nathan’s core. He recalled when those same words were spoken to him. When everything was still intact.

“Unlike certain individuals,” Marcus added, staring at Nathan with disgust, “Victoria actually matters to this household.”

“Marcus, enough.” Caroline grinned. “Let us not spoil the meal by noticing him.”

They all laughed. Everyone except Victoria, who consumed her food silently.

Nathan gazed at his plate. Just grain. No protein. Never protein.

“By the way,” Edward said abruptly, shifting his manner, “Victoria, I have scheduled a meal gathering for you tomorrow evening. Harrison Vale from Vale Industries will attend.”

Nathan’s skull snapped up. Vale Industries. The organization that ruined his father’s company. The same organization that murdered…

“Harrison Vale?” Victoria’s silverware paused. “For what reason?”

“Commerce, certainly. And perhaps additional.” Edward grinned. “He is prosperous, impressive, and unattached. You could certainly find someone inferior.”

The suggestion drifted in the air like toxic gas.

“I am currently wed,” Victoria stated plainly.

“To whom?” Caroline gestured toward Nathan without observing him. “Darling, that means nothing. We can arrange a separation whenever we decide.”

Nathan’s fingers squeezed together beneath the counter. His nails bit into his skin.

“I will think about it,” Victoria said.

The statement hurt worse than any beating.

Edward lifted his cup. “For fresh starts.”

“For fresh starts,” the household repeated.

Nathan remained motionless, something harsh and freezing forming in his middle. For thirty-six months, he had persisted. For thirty-six months, he had lasted.

Yet observing them celebrate his disappearance, something within him finally cracked.

Or perhaps, it simply awakened.

His mobile buzzed in his garment. A message from an unidentified contact.

“The commodity is prepared. Send the signal.”

Nathan’s thumb hovered above the display.

A single phrase. That was all required.