CHAPTER 1 Sick Mother “Running to Elena, you trash?”

Karvel froze mid-step, his mother-in-law’s voice slicing through the hallway like a rusted blade.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her silk nightgown, a gold bracelet jangling as she flicked a manicured nail at his threadbare sleeve.

“Newsflash: She’s at the Plaza with Vincent—you know, the real man who doesn’t reek of dish soap and desperation, enjoying their night.” She snickered.

Vincent Langford?

Karvel’s throat went dry.

The entitled heir of the Langford family. The man who had been chasing his wife for months.

Karvel had caught him flirting with her more than once, right in front of him, as if Karvel didn’t even exist.

But she had always turned Vincent down before...

Karvel’s jaw tightened. “That’s not true. Elena would never—”

“Would never what?” She pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. “Would never dump trash like you? Never laugh over champagne instead of your sad little stories about your dying mother? Don’t be so delusional.”

Her words coiled around his throat. “You’re lying!” he grated, but his voice wavered.

“Oh, please.” She patted his cheek, her ring digging into his skin. “ Just face it. Vincent’s much better. Better than your roach-infested childhood home, better than your mother’s hospital bills, better than you.”

She leaned in, breath hot with malice. “And they’re busy now, by the way. Very busy. And once they’re done, Elena will come back and divorce you.”

Karvel stumbled back, grabbing for the staircase rail. His hand shook as he pulled out his phone, Elena’s number already dialed.

“Waste of time,” his mother-in-law sang, sauntering away. “She’s got better things to do than save your sorry hide.”

The line clicked.

Then—“Well, well. The little mutt finally learned to dial a phone.”

Vincent’s voice.

Karvel’s blood turned to ice. “Where is Elena?”

A low, lazy laugh rumbled through the speaker. “Busy. In the shower. You know how it is—some of us actually get to relax with our partners, not beg them for crumbs.”

“Put her on the phone.” Karvel’s knuckles whitened around the device.

“Can’t. She’s… occupied.” Vincent’s tone dipped, cruel and deliberate. “Man, her skin is even softer than silk. But hey, if you listen real close, maybe you can hear her—”

“Shut up!”

“Aw, touchy.” The line crackled, and Karvel swore he heard the faint rush of water. “Face it, fleabag. She’s done. Three years of playing house with a loser? Even Elena’s got limits. Now run along—your mother’s probably cold by now. Enjoy the funeral, if you could afford one.”

The line went dead.

Karvel stared at the screen, the world tilting.

His mother-in-law’s laughter echoed from the living room, but it sounded miles away.

He dialed Elena’s number again. And again. And again.

No answer.

Then his phone buzzed. A notification from the hospital.

Final Notice: Outstanding payment due. Discharge ordered.

His chest tightened, and he could barely breathe.

There was no time for heartbreak now. He had to save his mother.

Karvel took off running towards the hospital, his mind a blur of panic. The city streets seemed to close in around him as he sprinted through the crowded sidewalks.

Sweat soaked through his shirt, sticking it to his back as he weaved through crowds, lungs burning. When he skidded to a halt at the hospital desk, he could barely speak.

“Please,” he begged the receptionist. “I’m here about Room 403. Mrs. Amelia Donovan. I just need a few more days. I’ll get the money—”

The woman didn’t even look up. “If you can’t pay, she’s out. This isn’t a charity kennel.”

“I—She’s my mother,” Karvel pleaded, dropping to his knees. “She raised me… I’ll work it off—anything!”

A nearby nurse scoffed. “Better save that dog-like loyalty. She’s already on the discharge list.”

Karvel clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. No. No, she can’t be forced out! But before he could do anything, chaos erupted in the hospital corridor.

Screams echoed down the corridor.

“Someone jumped! From the fourth floor!”

A chill ran down Karvel’s spine, and a sense of foreboding washed over him. No, don’t be…

He scrambled to his feet and started running, shoving past doctors, nurses, and visitors. His legs felt like lead, and his mind was blank with terror.

And then—he saw her, his mother, lying motionless on the cold marble tiles. Crumpled like a broken marionette on the cold marble tiles.

Her hospital gown fluttered weakly from the impact. Blood pooled beneath her, seeping into the cracks of the floor like spilled ink.

“No!” Karvel dropped to his knees beside her, his voice a raw scream of pain. “Mom! Mom, please—!”

CHAPTER 2 You're a monster Karvel held her frail hand in his, his fingers trembling violently, as if trying to hold onto her very essence. Blood stained the edges of her lips, but despite the pain, she managed a weak smile.

“Karv...” she whispered, her voice so faint it was almost lost in the sterile air of the hospital room. “I didn’t want to be a burden anymore. You’ve suffered enough… for me.”

“Mom, no—no! Don’t say that. You’re not a burden. You’re my mother. You’re my only family!” Karvel’s voice cracked, and a sob wracked his body.

His chest felt like it was caving in, filled with a grief so intense it was almost physical.

She smiled faintly, her gray eyes glassy but still filled with a love that had sustained him through all these years.

Karvel clutched her tighter, as if he could somehow stop the inevitable.

Before he could say anything more, the sound of dress shoes clicking on the tiled floor echoed in the hallway, like a death knell.

Dr. William Crane, a senior consultant at the hospital, strutted into the room, a smug smirk on his face.

“Oh, look,” Crane sneered, cocking an eyebrow. “The puppy still has tears left. Touching.”

Karvel’s eyes blazed with hatred. “Get out,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Crane chuckled, pulling out a manila folder. “Tsk. I’d love to let this family drama continue, but we’ve got bills to settle, boy. That operation? ICU care? Tests? Medications? That’s a lot of bacon for a broke little mutt like you.”

“She’s dying,” Karvel growled.

Crane snorted. “Dead or dying, it makes no difference. We’re still owed money. And since you can’t pay—” he snapped his fingers.

Two brutish security guards stomped in behind him like trained oxen.

“Here’s the fun part,” Crane continued, grinning mockingly. “If she dies without payment, her body becomes property of the hospital. We’ll start with her kidneys—maybe her corneas, if they haven’t turned to jelly.”

“You’re insane,” Karvel spat, his hands balled into fists so tightly that his knuckles were white. “You’re a monster!”

For years, Crane had been extorting “donations” from him, and Karvel had been desperate enough to comply.

He had worked countless menial jobs—washing dishes, delivering pizza, doing anything he could to scrape together the money.

But no matter how much he gave, it was never enough to satisfy Crane’s greed. And now, this was his revenge.

“I’m a doctor with rules, dogboy. And you bit the hand that fed you,” Crane mocked, his eyes glinting with malice.

As the guards moved forward, Karvel stood protectively over his mother’s bed. “Don’t you touch her!”

“Aww,” one guard chuckled. “Is the chihuahua gonna bite?”

“Better muzzle him before he pees on the floor,” the other added with a laugh.

They lunged at Karvel, and he fought back with all his might. But their blows were too powerful.

Fists slammed into his ribs, knees struck his gut, and pain exploded throughout his body.

His vision blurred, and blood dripped from his mouth as he collapsed beside his mother’s bed.

Crane leaned down, voice dripping venom. “The hospital isn’t a kennel, boy. If you want to live like a dog, you better learn when to roll over and die.”

The guards reached for his mother’s body, and Karvel felt a sense of hopelessness wash over him.

And then, suddenly, the blare of engines outside shook the walls of the hospital. Tires screeched, and doors slammed shut.

Everyone in the room turned towards the sound, their eyes wide with surprise. A fleet of black luxury SUVs had pulled up outside the ER entrance. The vehicles were sleek, armored, and exuded an air of power and authority.

Moments later, a squad of uniformed men entered the hospital, moving in perfect synchronization.

They wore earpieces and sunglasses, their expressions cold and unreadable. Their presence sent a shiver down everyone’s spine.

At the front of the group was a woman.

Dressed in tailored white slacks, her silver heels clicking with command, sunglasses pushed up onto her sleek brunette hair.

“Stand down,” she said, her voice cool and authoritative.

The guards froze in their tracks, their eyes wide with confusion.

Crane blinked, his smug expression replaced with a look of shock. “Wh—who the hell are you?” he stammered.

The woman ignored him, walking straight to Karvel’s side. Her eyes landed on the blood on the floor, the bruises on his face, and the broken look in his eyes.

Then, to everyone’s astonishment, she bowed deeply, right there in the middle of the hospital corridor.

“Young master,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “Forgive me. I’m late. I’m so sorry.”

The staff gasped.

CHAPTER 3 I'm no Master Karvel stared at her, confusion and disbelief written all over his face. “You—who are—?”

“I should’ve come earlier,” she whispered, her tone filled with regret.

“I am deeply sorry for what happened to you and your mother,” she said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is our mistake, and we will take full responsibility.”

Karvel blinked in disbelief. The elegant woman before him had just brought a battalion of bodyguards and bowed to him. Now, she was calling him—

“The young master,” she said clearly, her voice echoing through the stunned hallway. “There’s no mistake. We’ve finally found you.”

“W-What?” Karvel stammered, rubbing his temple as if it would knock the nonsense out of his ears. “I think… you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m no master. I’m just—”

“A man born to be more,” the lady interrupted gently, with a look that made the blood drain from every arrogant staff member watching. “Everything will be explained later. Right now, your mother needs immediate care. And we’re not losing her.”

Karvel’s chest seized. “She’s still alive?”

“She is. Barely, but we can save her.” the lady turned, her tone suddenly clipped and businesslike. “Bring the portable unit. Transfer her to the convoy—now.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

, “This… this is a show, right?” Dr Crane scoffed as her team rushed to action.

“Nice production. Did you rent those muscle-heads from a movie set? Or maybe from the local zoo? Could’ve fooled me with that ‘young master’ nonsense.” He chuckled. “What’s next? Gonna tell us this chihuahua’s a lost prince?”

Karvel clenched his fists, but before he could respond, the lady moved.

SLAP.

It was a light motion. Barely more than a flick.

Yet the doctor flew back like a ragdoll launched from a catapult, crashing into a cart of medical trays.

He landed hard, metal instruments clattering around him. Blood poured from his mouth as he gasped on the tile floor.

“Damn!” one of the nurses whispered. “Did she just swat him like a mosquito?”

“More like she swiped a flea off her jacket,” another whispered nervously. The lady stood still, her aura burning cold.

Crane groaned. “Y-You… You psycho… You think you can get away with this? The director—he’s backed by the police chief! I’ll have you all arrested!”

He yanked out his phone with shaking hands. “Enjoy your little fantasy now, but when the cops arrive, let’s see if you still play queen!”

The lady didn’t even flinch.

She took out her phone, dialed a number, and spoke with an icy calm. “This is Alina Hart. Get me Chief Dalton. Now.”

Karvel turned his head sharply. Wait… Alina Hart? That name... It sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before?

The staff exchanged skeptical glances. A nurse snorted. “Alina Hart? What is this, a soap opera now?”

Crane wheezed a chuckle. “She’s bluffing. Probably Googled a rich name before she got here. This is all bark—no bite.”

Then the line connected.

The police chief’s voice came through, smooth at first. “This is Dalton. Who is—”

Then silence.

Followed by a loud, sharp intake of breath. “M-Miss Hart! I—I had no idea it was you! Please forgive me!”

Alina’s voice was a glacier. “I’m standing in a hospital where your beloved director allows extortion, abuse of power, and attempted theft of organs. You have sixty seconds to fix this. Or you’re done.Your pension, and fucking peace of your life will be gone in a snap..”

“I-I’ll solve it immediately! Please, give me a moment. Just a moment!” He pleaded before hanging up.

Back in the hallway, everyone watched Alina close her phone.

“Enjoy your minute,” she said to no one in particular.

Crane, coughing on the floor, barked out a laugh. “Did she just… give a countdown? This is rich. Who does she think she is—God?”

A loud bang cut through the air.

The emergency doors burst open. In waddled the hospital director, his tie half undone, face soaked in sweat, and his eyes wide with terror.

CHAPTER 4 I can explain Dr. Crane struggled to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. A twisted grin spread across his bruised face.

"Perfect timing!" he wheezed, pointing at the sweating director who had just burst through the doors.

"Director Hayes! Thank God you're here. This crazy woman and her pack of wannabe bodyguards just assaulted me! And this flea-bitten mutt—" he jabbed a finger at Karvel, "—he's been causing nothing but trouble!"

Director Hayes stood frozen in the doorway, his face pale as he took in the scene. His eyes landed on Alina, and Karvel watched in bewilderment as the man's expression shifted from confusion to absolute terror.

"Miss... Miss Hart?" Hayes stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

"Oh, you know each other?" Crane chuckled, oblivious to the director's horror. "Good! Now we can throw these circus freaks out before—"

THUD.

Hayes dropped to his knees so fast it sounded like a sack of potatoes hitting the floor.

"Miss Hart! Please forgive me!" Hayes blubbered, his whole body trembling like a wet chihuahua in winter. "I had no idea you were here! If I had known—oh God, if I had known—"

Crane's jaw dropped. "What... what the hell are you doing, Hayes? Why are you groveling like a beaten dog?"

Hayes whipped his head toward Crane, his eyes blazing with panic. "Shut up, you imbecile! Do you have any idea who you just insulted?"

"Some rich bitch playing dress-up?" Crane scoffed.

Alina's voice cut through the air like ice. "Director Hayes."

"Y-Yes, Miss Hart!" Hayes practically squeaked.

"I want this man's mother transferred to your most luxurious VIP ward. Immediately. Spare no expense."

"Of course! Absolutely! Right away!" Hayes scrambled to his feet, barking orders at the stunned staff.

"You heard her! Get Mrs. Donovan to VIP Suite A! Now! Move like your lives depend on it!"

Karvel's head spun. Who is this woman? Even the director's acting like she could snap her fingers and make him disappear.

But there was no time for questions.

"Wait!" Karvel called out, rushing forward. "My mother—she needs emergency surgery first! She's barely—"

"Already handled," Hayes interrupted, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched his knees. "Our best surgical team is being assembled as we speak, young master. Your mother will receive the finest care money can buy."

"Young master?" The whispers rippled through the crowd of onlookers like wildfire.

"Did he just call that homeless-looking guy 'young master'?"

"What the hell is going on here?"

Crane, still bleeding and confused, staggered forward.

"Hayes, what's gotten into you? This mongrel can't even afford a decent meal, let alone—"

Hayes spun around and delivered a backhand that sent Crane spinning like a broken pinwheel.

"You ignorant fool!" Hayes roared, grabbed Crane by the collar and shook him like a rag doll.

"You're fired! Security! Escort this leech to the police station. Charge him with extortion, abuse of power, and accepting bribes!"

"Wait! Wait!" Crane's voice cracked like a teenage boy hitting puberty. "You can't do this to me! I have connections! The police chief—"

"The police chief made this order!" Alina said calmly. "He'll be very interested to hear about your... entrepreneurial activities."

Two security guards grabbed Crane under his arms, dragging him away.

"This isn't over! You'll all pay for this! I'll be back!"

"No," Hayes called after him, "you won't. Your medical license will be revoked permanently. Enjoy explaining that to your wife."

As Crane's protests faded down the hallway, Karvel turned to Alina, his mind reeling. Everything's happening so fast. His mother's going to be saved, but nothing makes sense.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly. "Really?"

Alina's stern expression softened as she looked at him. "Karvel, you were born into one of the most powerful families in the world."

"That's impossible. I'm nobody. I'm just—"

"You're not nobody." Her voice was gentle but firm. "When you were barely one year old, your family faced a catastrophe. Enemies struck in the night, trying to wipe them out completely. And your parents… died defending the clan."

Karvel's chest tightened. Parents? I had real parents?

"And you," Alina continued, "mysteriously disappeared. We searched for years, decades. Your grandfather never gave up hope."

"My grandfather is... alive?" The words felt strange on his tongue.

"More than alive. He single-handedly rebuilt your family empire from ashes. His wealth has grown beyond imagination, and the family’s influence reaches every corner of the globe. Even heads of state bow when your grandfather speaks."

Karvel stared at her, his mind struggling to process it all. This can't be real. Things like this don't happen to people like me.

"You were his only son's child," Alina said softly. "The sole heir to everything. And losing you... it's been the one wound that never healed."

"Who killed my parents?" The question escaped before he could stop it.

Alina's expression darkened. "Knowing that now would do you no good. When the time is right, when you're ready, all will be revealed."

Before Karvel could press further, his phone buzzed. His wife's name flashed on the screen, and his stomach dropped like a stone.

"Where the hell are you?" Elena's voice was sharp. "Today is Grandmother's birthday banquet. The entire family will be there, and you're nowhere to be found!"

"Elena, I —"

"I don't want excuses, I want you here. Our branch of the family is already treated like the runts of the litter. This is our chance to prove we're not completely worthless." Her tone was ice-cold.

"You have thirty minutes to get to the Grand Millennium Hotel. Don't make us look like fools again."

CHAPTER 5 She'll divorce you Karvel took a deep breath, stared down at his phone.

The woman who had likely betrayed him... was now reminding him not to embarrass her in public, as if nothing had happened.

Unbelievable.

“What were you doing earlier? Who were you with?”

He asked coldly, his voice dropped several degrees.

“Excuse me? Unlike you, I actually work. Sorry I wasn’t sitting around begging for charity or playing with stray dogs outside the hospital like you!”

His jaw tightened. “Too busy to answer the phone?”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale. “Are you really trying to pick a fight over that? Do it after the banquet. Right now, grow up and show up.”

Then she hung up.

Karvel stared at the screen, his fingers trembling—not from pain, but rage. He felt like he’d just swallowed poison.

He turned to Alina Hart, who stood nearby, watching quietly.

“I need a favor.”

“Anything, young master.” she said.

“I need you to investigate something. The call I made to my wife earlier—can you track where she was? And who was she with?”

Her eyes sharpened. “Of course. I’ll have it traced immediately.”

“I just need the truth. If she really did it… I’ll let her go. ”

Despite everything, he still felt something for her. She’d never ridiculed him like the rest of her family. Cold, yes. But not cruel.

But this time, things were different.

Alina nodded. “Understood.”

Karvel checked the time. “I’ll head to the banquet first. Can I… borrow your car?”

Alina raised a brow, amused. “Borrow? Those cars out front? They’re yours. Everything I arrived in—yours. You don’t borrow from yourself.”

She pulled a matte black key fob from her pocket and dropped it into his hand. “You’ll have to settle for the Aventador. No time to send the Maybach.”

Karvel blinked at her. “Settle…?”

“That one’s only worth about three million,” she added nonchalantly.

He stared at the key like it was made of dragon bone. Just how deep did this rabbit hole of wealth go?

Then she handed him something else: a solid black card with a golden edge.

“Your family has holdings in nearly every major industry,” Alina explained. “Including the hotel you're going to. This card gives you full access. No passwords. No limits.”

He clenched the card, swallowed. “No limits?”

Just minutes ago, he was on his knees begging for enough money to keep his mother alive. Now… the world had flipped.

Without wasting more time, he left the building and slid into the Lamborghini Aventador.

Minutes later, he arrived. But instead of pulling up to the hotel’s grand entrance, he parked several hundred meters away in a quiet alley.

He wasn’t here to show off.

Not yet.

Still dressed in his torn, bloodstained clothes, bruises fading but visible, he walked the last stretch on foot.

Karvel stood outside the revolving doors, watching guests flow in, draped in designer suits and diamond-dripping dresses. Even the bellboys here probably earned more respect than he did.

And right at the door of the banquet hall—he ran into his in-laws.

Patricia’s eyes sharpened as they landed on him, a slow, venomous smile spreading across her face.

“Well, well. Look who decided to slink in. You heard, didn’t you?” She tilted her head, feigning concern, but her eyes glittered like shards of glass. “Known where Elena is now? ”

Robert let out a harsh laugh, clapping his hands once. “Finally got the memo, huh, trash? Your little marriage charade’s over. Vincent’s taking our girl out of this gutter—and you’re getting tossed to the curb.”

“Definitely! Vincent is much better than this trash. Third floor, baby!” Patricia beamed. “We’re finally stepping above those second-floor peasants.”

The hotel has seven floors, with access tiered like a social ladder—only the rich could even breathe on the first.

This year’s banquet for Grandma Margaret’s birthday was being hosted on the third floor—for the first time ever.

All thanks to Vincent Langford.

Elena’s parents were practically floating with arrogance.

“Wait till Mother sees this,” Patricia added. “We’ll finally get some real recognition!“

Karvel’s jaw tightened, but he held his ground—years of their vitriol had forged a shield, thin but unyielding.

Patricia’s smile widened, her tone slicing like a knife. “Don’t look so glum, Karvel. ”

She reached up, adjusting the pearls around her neck with a flick of her wrist, as if the mere mention of divorce polished her social standing.

“Think of it as a favor. You’ll finally be free to crawl back to whatever hole you slithered out of. And we? We’ll be third-floor regulars, then fourth-floor，then top of the heap—all thanks to Vincent. No more scraps from Margaret, no more being laughed at. Just the life we deserve!”

“Dear,” Robert chimed in, grinning, “let’s not rub it in. The poor sap looks like he’s about to cry.”

“Cry? Good. He should.” Patricia leaned in, her voice dropping to a hissed whisper. “You thought she’d stay with you? A man who can’t even afford a taxi to a banquet? When she comes back, she’ll hand you those papers, and you’ll slink away. That’s all you’re good for.”

Karvel’s fingers curled into fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. The words weren’t new—their contempt had always been loud—but this time, they came laced with a sickening certainty.

She’s with him. She’s chosen him. This is real.

Patricia stepped back, preening, and nodded toward the curb. “Speak of the devil. Here comes our future.”

A sleek black Rolls-Royce glided to a stop, its engine purring like a contented beast.

Robert’s face lit up. “There they are! Our ticket out of here!”

CHAPTER 6 I want divorce The door opened, and Vincent stepped out, smirking as he held out a hand.

Then Elena emerged.

From the passenger seat.

She was actually with him...

Karvel’s chest constricted, as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

She looked flawless, of course—always had. But as she stepped out of that car next to Vincent, it wasn’t beauty Karvel saw. It was betrayal, a cold, hard slap in the face.

The last flicker of hope inside him, that tiny spark of belief in their marriage, died a swift and painful death.

Patricia’s laughter rang in his ears, sharp and triumphant.

“See? Told you,” she said, nudging Robert. “Now let’s go greet our real son-in-law. And you—” She shot Karvel a final, withering look. “—stay out of the way. Your chapter’s closed.”

Her parents rushed toward Vincent like bees to honey.

“Mr. Langford! You made it!” Patricia beamed, her hands clasped together in adoration.

“So honored!” Robert chimed in, grabbing Vincent’s hand with a sweaty grip. “You showing up brings glory to the entire family.”

Vincent adjusted his cufflinks like a show poodle waiting for applause. “Of course. Anything for Elena.” He smiled sideways at Elena.

“Elena,” Karvel called, his voice low but firm. It took every ounce of his strength to keep the tremor out of his voice. “Why were you with him?”

Elena turned, ignoring his question, eyes narrowing as they landed on his torn shirt and bruised face.

“What happened to you? You look like you got in a fight with a lawnmower.”

“Answer the question,” Karvel said, clenching his fists.

“I was working,” she snapped. “You think I have time to sit around and bark at the moon like you?”

“Working?” he repeated, voice cold. “At the hotel?”

Her eyes flicked away. “Don’t be a child. Do I have to report to you where I’m dealing with my business? I’ve got a dozen meetings a day. Sorry I don’t live in the back alley like you!”

Vincent sauntered over, slinging an arm around Elena’s shoulders. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away—a detail that skewered Karvel.

“Jealous, mutt? She’s got better things to do than nurse your ego.”Vincent chuckled.

Patricia cackled. “Face it, Karvel. She’s moving up. You’re just dead weight.”

Karvel stared at Elena, gave a bitter smile.

So this is what it’s come to. I’m a stray to them. A mutt chasing a master who never wanted him.

There was no need for him to hold on any longer. It was time to set them both free.

“I need to talk to you,” Taking a deep breath, he finally said to Elena.

She frowned. “Now? The banquet is starting.”

“It won’t take long.”

She followed him grudgingly to the side garden, heels clicking like a countdown. “Make it quick. Grandma doesn’t like latecomers, and neither do I.”

He let out a bitter laugh. In her eyes, he had never truly mattered—he had only ever been a waste of her precious time.

Throughout their years of marriage, though she had never shown him warmth, she had also never spoken to him with the cruelty her parents did. Sometimes, she even stepped in to defend him when they humiliated him.

He thought…

But now, it was clear—it had all been wishful thinking on his part.

Maybe to her, he was nothing more than a pitiful man clinging to scraps of affection she handed out from time to time. And he, foolishly, had cherished those scraps as if they were love.

How laughable.

Now, it was time to end it.

He turned to her, face calm despite the storm in his chest.

“I want a divorce.”His voice was hoarse.

Elena blinked.

“…What?”

“I said I want a divorce.”

CHAPTER 7 I've been the worst husband Elena stared at Karvel, eyes wide in disbelief.

“A divorce? Are you out of your mind?”

"I'm being practical," Karvel replied calmly, his voice restrained. "This marriage has been a cage for both of us. Now you can be free."

"Free?" Elena's voice rose an octave. "You think this is about freedom? You see me arrive with Vincent once and suddenly you're throwing a tantrum and asking for a divorce? What do you think our marriage is? A game?!"

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are!" Elena's eyes blazed.

"I already have enough stress on my plate! Do you have any idea what I'm dealing with right now?"

Karvel looked at her flushed face, confusion flickering in his eyes.

Why does she seem... upset? Shouldn't she be relieved?

"Isn't this what you want?" he asked quietly.

"To be with Vincent? I won't stand in your way anymore."

Elena's face turned crimson. “You… you think I slept with him?”

Her hand shot out before he could react.

SLAP!

The sound echoed through the hotel entrance. Several passing guests turned to stare.

Karvel stood stunned, a hot sting burning across his cheek.

Elena's lips trembled, but no words came.

She stood there for a moment, her chest rising and falling rapidly, then spun around and marched toward the banquet hall.

"We'll talk after the event," she said over her shoulder, her voice tight with emotion. "This isn't the time or place."

Karvel touched his stinging cheek, watching her disappear into the building. He didn't understand. He was giving her what she wanted. Why did she seem... hurt?

As he stood there puzzling over her reaction, his phone buzzed. Alina's name appeared on the screen.

"I have the results of the investigation," Alina's voice was calm and professional.

"Go ahead," Karvel said, bracing himself for confirmation of his worst fears.

"Your wife was indeed at the Grandview Hotel when you called her."

Karvel's heart sank. So it's true.

"However," Alina continued, "the situation isn't what you think. She entered a hotel room with Vincent Langford for less than three minutes before storming out."

"Three minutes?" Karvel frowned. "What happened in three minutes?"

"According to our surveillance analysis, she appeared to be arguing with him. She left the room clearly agitated. The reason your calls didn't reach her is because her phone had been programmed to forward all incoming calls to Vincent's device."

Vincent answered because her calls were being forwarded? Karvel felt his certainty beginning to crack.

"There's more," Alina said, her voice gentle. "We also discovered something else about your wife. Something you should know."

"What?"

"For the past three years, Elena has been secretly paying your foster mother's medical bills."

Karvel nearly dropped the phone. "What?"

"Every month, she's been transferring money to cover the treatments. The doctor you encountered today—Dr. Crane—he's been extorting both of you. He would demand payments from you, then turn around and demand more from her, claiming the bills weren't fully covered."

"That's impossible," Karvel whispered. "She never said anything..."

"She used her personal savings first, then company funds. She's now facing millions in penalties for unauthorized use of business accounts. She's been desperately trying to raise money to cover the debt and your mother's surgery."

Karvel felt the ground shifting beneath his feet. Elena has been... helping him? All this time?

"The reason she went to Vincent today," Alina continued, "was to borrow money for your mother's operation. She had exhausted every other option."

She was trying to save his mother. Guilt crashed over Karvel like a tidal wave. And he accused her of betraying him.

"Sir? Are you still there?"

"Yes," Karvel said hoarsely. "Yes, I'm here."

"There's one more thing. Today is your wedding anniversary, isn't it?"

Karvel closed his eyes.

Today was their third wedding anniversary. And he just asked for a divorce.

He swallowed hard, shame crawling up his throat like bile.

What a fool he’d been.

"Alina," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I need you to book the entire top floor of this hotel. Right now."

"Okay, no problem, Sir."

Karvel looked up at the towering hotel, his jaw set with resolve.

He’d been the worst husband in the world. But tonight, that would change.

"Three years ago today, I married the most incredible woman in the world, and I've been too blind to see it. Tonight, I'm going to throw her the grandest anniversary party this city has ever seen."

"Understood, sir. It will be done within the hour."

CHAPTER 8 But I'm married The banquet hall buzzed with elegant conversation and clinking champagne glasses.

Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over tables draped in silk, while waiters glided between guests like well-trained ballet dancers.

Elena's father, Robert, led their family in quietly.

"Keep your voices low," he whispered. "Don't draw any unnecessary attention."

But within seconds, a sharp voice cut through the air like a whip crack.

"Well, well! Look what the cat dragged in!"

Elena's uncle, Richard Howard, strutted over with his daughter Sarah, both wearing smug expressions that could curdle milk.

"Richard," Patricia forced a smile. "How lovely to see you."

"Is it, though?" Sarah snickered. "I'm surprised you had the nerve to show your faces here after Elena's little embezzlement scandal."

"That's not what happened—" Elena began, but Richard cut her off with a dismissive wave.

"Oh please, spare us the sob story, niece. You stole company funds to pay for that street mongrel's mommy's medical bills. What kind of pathetic lapdog betrays her own family for a trash bag?"

"She’s been brainwashed by her crafty husband," Sarah added with a cruel laugh. "What a stupid woman!!"

"Where is your precious husband anyway?" Richard looked around mockingly. "Too embarrassed to bring him? Smart choice—nobody wants to see a rabid stray at a civilized gathering."

Elena's cheeks burned, but she remained silent.

"Since you've contributed absolutely nothing to this family except shame, you can't sit with the actual guests. The workers' table is over there."Richard pointed toward a corner table near the kitHoward. "More appropriate for your... status."

Patricia's face went pale. "Richard, surely you don't mean—"

"I mean exactly what I said," Richard's voice turned cold. "Sit with the help, where you belong."

This is humiliating.

Robert clenched his teeth, but he had no choice. They needed to stay in the family's good graces.

Just as they began their walk of shame toward the corner table, a commanding voice rang out.

"What's all this commotion?"

Everyone turned. Elena's grandmother, Margaret Howard, approached with her regal bearing intact despite her seventy-plus years. Her steel-gray hair was perfectly coiffed, and her emerald dress sparkled with authority.

"Mother!" Patricia's voice cracked with desperation and hope.

"Mother," Richard bowed slightly, suddenly nervous. "I was just... seating everyone appropriately."

Margaret's sharp eyes surveyed the scene. "And you thought my granddaughter and her family belonged with the staff?"

"Well, given their recent... difficulties..."

"Nonsense," Margaret declared, her voice cutting through Richard's stammering. "Elena, dear, come sit at the main table. We need to have a proper family discussion."

This was unexpected, suspicious

Elena frowned. Grandmother never defended them.

Patricia practically bounced with excitement. "Oh, thank you, Mother! “

She turned to Elena, whispered with satisfaction. “This must be all thanks to Vincent's influence！"

As if summoned by his name, Vincent appeared at Elena's side, flashing his most charming smile.

"Mrs. Howard," he bowed elegantly. "You look radiant tonight. Thank you for allowing me to join this wonderful celebration."

Margaret's face lit up. "Vincent! My dear boy, the pleasure is all ours. Richard, apologize to my guests immediately."

Richard's jaw dropped. "But Mother—"

"NOW."

Richard mumbled an apology like a scolded child, while Sarah looked like she'd swallowed a particularly bitter lemon.

As they settled at the main table, Margaret beamed at Vincent. "I must say, Vincent, your ability to secure the entire third floor for tonight's celebration is truly impressive. Even families twice our size have never managed such a feat!"

Vincent waved modestly. "It's nothing, really. When Elena's happiness is at stake, I'd move mountains."

"Such devotion!" Margaret clasped her hands together. "And I hear you're willing to invest in our family business? One hundred million, was it?"

"A small matter," Vincent nodded. "I actually discussed this with Elena before the banquet, though she seemed... hesitant."

Margaret's expression shifted, her eyes turning to Elena with growing coldness. "Hesitant? About what, exactly?"

Elena’s face turned pale. "Grandmother, it's... complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," Margaret's voice turned sharp as a blade.

Elena glanced around the table, seeing all eyes on her. She couldn't say this in front of everyone.

"Vincent didn't just want to discuss business," she said quietly. "He wanted... other things."

"Other things?" Margaret raised an eyebrow.

"He wanted to sleep with me," Elena blurted out, her face burning red.

The table fell silent.

Margaret stared at Elena for a long moment, then burst into incredulous laughter.

"And you refused? Do you realize what a blessing this is?"

Elena's mouth fell open. "Grandmother?"

"Vincent is offering you his affection AND helping our family! Most women would kill for such an opportunity!"

"But I'm married!" Elena protested.

"To a worthless street rat!" Margaret snapped. "Vincent is a real man—successful, powerful, generous!"

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! You're being selfish and holier-than-thou, cousin. Put the family first for once!"

"It's disgusting how she puts her own prudish morals above everyone else's welfare," Richard added mockingly.

Elena looked around the table in horror. "Are you all insane? You want me to cheat on my husband?"

Margaret's eyes turned ice-cold. "If you don't agree to Vincent's proposal, you'll repay every cent you embezzled—today. All of it. Or I'll have you arrested for theft."

Elena felt the blood drain from her face.

That money was actually a dividend the company had long owed her, but her grandmother kept delaying the payment under various excuses.

When Karvel’s mother fell critically ill and urgently needed funds, Elena had no choice but to temporarily use that money.

She had planned to repay it as soon as she got through this difficult period—but she never expected her grandmother would use it as leverage to threaten her.

"Choose wisely, dear," Margaret sneered coldly. "Vincent's bed, or a prison cell. What's it going to be?"

CHAPTER 9 What kind of person? The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife when suddenly, a calm voice broke through the chaos.

"I'll repay the money on Elena's behalf."

Every head turned. Karvel stood in the doorway, his torn clothes and bruised face making him look like a warrior returning from battle.

The table erupted in laughter so loud it could wake the dead.

"Oh my God!" Sarah wheezed, clutching her stomach. "Did that trash just say he'd pay millions?"

"What's he going to use, bottle caps?" Richard cackled. "Or maybe he'll bark at the bank until they give him a loan!"

Patricia shot to her feet, her face red with rage. "Karvel! What are you doing here? You're embarrassing us even more than usual!"

"Sit down and stop making a fool of yourself," Robert hissed. "Haven't you caused enough trouble for one day?"

Even Elena looked mortified. "Karvel, please don't—"

"I'm serious," Karvel said quietly, his eyes focused only on his wife. "I'll handle the money. But right now, I'm here for something more important."

Margaret laughed sharply. "More important? What could possibly be more important than millions of dollars, you delusional flea?"

"Today is our wedding anniversary," Karvel announced, stepping closer to Elena.

"Since she's not welcome here, I'll be taking my wife somewhere she'll be treated with respect."

"Where?" Vincent sneered.

"To a soup kitHoward? That's about all your budget can handle, street rat!"

"I've reserved the top-floor restaurant," Karvel said calmly.

"We'll be celebrating there."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then the laughter exploded like a dam bursting.

"THE TOP FLOOR?" Sarah shrieked, tears streaming down her face.

"He thinks he can access the penthouse level!"

"Someone call animal control!" Richard howled. "This rabid dog has completely lost touch with reality!"

"The top floor costs more per night than you'll make in ten lifetimes, you pathetic worm!" Margaret spat.

Vincent shook his head in mock sympathy.

"Even my family's wealth couldn't secure the penthouse level. And you think a broke janitor like you could manage it?"

Elena's face burned with shame. "Karvel, please stop. You're just making things worse."

"He's so delusional!" Patricia snarled. "Completely detached from reality!"

"I'm telling the truth," Karvel insisted, his voice steady despite the ridicule raining down on him.

SLAP!

Patricia's hand cracked across his face like a whip. "Get out! Get out before you humiliate us any further! "

Karvel's cheek stung, but he didn't move, for Elena's sake.

"I know it sounds impossible," he said quietly, "but I'm not lying."

"Impossible?" Richard laughed so hard he started choking.

"It's not impossible, it's insane! You have a better chance of growing wings and flying!"

Just as the mockery reached its crescendo, rapid footsteps echoed from the hallway.

A man in an expensive suit burst through the doors, his face flushed and panicked.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the hotel manager announced breathlessly, "I sincerely apologize for the interruption, but we need to relocate this event to the second floor immediately."

The laughter died instantly.

"Excuse me?" Margaret's voice was dangerously low.

"A VIP guest has arrived," the manager explained, wringing his hands

. "The entire upper portion of the building needs to be cleared for their use."

Vincent stood up aggressively.

"Do you know who I am? My family has a significant influence in this city! You can't just—"

"Sir, with all due respect, this is non-negotiable," the manager cut him off firmly. "Please gather your belongings. Security will escort you to your new location."

"This is outrageous!" Richard bellowed. "We paid for the third floor!"

"And you'll receive a full refund plus compensation," the manager replied. "But you must move. Now."

As bewildered guests began filing out, Elena's family noticed something extraordinary happening around them.

Men in thousand-dollar suits were descending from the upper floors, their faces grim but compliant.

"Is that... is that Senator Williams?" Patricia whispered, pointing at a distinguished older man being escorted down.

"And the Morrison family heir, the first-tier family in the city," Robert gasped.

"I heard he never leaves his penthouse suite without a security detail!"

"Look at them all," Sarah breathed in amazement.

"These are people who usually snap their fingers and make problems disappear. But they're all just... leaving?"

Margaret watched in stunned silence as some of the most powerful people in the city quietly evacuated the upper floors like obedient sheep.

"What kind of person," she whispered, "could make all of them move without a single complaint?"

CHAPTER 10 You can't be serious As they settled into their new seats on the second floor, Margaret's eyes gleamed with curiosity and greed.

"Did anyone hear what the manager said?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"The mysterious VIP is throwing a celebration for some woman. A private party on the top floor!"

"Imagine being that lucky," Patricia sighed dreamily.

"To have someone so powerful throwing you a party!"

"It must be someone incredibly important," Robert added.

"Maybe a senator's daughter or a foreign dignitary?"

Sarah's eyes lit up with malicious glee as she spotted Elena sitting quietly in the corner.

"Oh! Oh! I know who it must be!" She pointed dramatically at Elena, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's obviously for our dear cousin Elena! The mysterious billionaire must have fallen head over heels for our little embezzler!"

The table erupted in hysterical laughter.

"Elena and a billionaire?" Richard wheezed.

"Maybe he has a fetish for women who steal from their own families!" Vincent added with a cruel smirk.

Elena's face burned with humiliation, but before she could respond, Karvel's calm voice cut through the mockery.

"Actually, you're right. The celebration is for Elena."

The laughter died instantly, then exploded even louder than before.

"OH MY GOD!" Sarah shrieked, clutching her sides.

"He's actually doubling down on this delusion!"

“Someone call a vet,” Richard howled.

“This mutt’s finally gone rabid!”

"What's next?"

"Are you going to tell us you're actually a secret prince in disguise?"

"This is the funniest thing I've heard all year!"

Vincent suddenly straightened, a calculating look crossing his face.

"You know what? This could actually work out perfectly."

All eyes turned to him.

"My father has extensive connections throughout the city," Vincent continued smoothly.

"It's possible he knows this VIP personally. Elena, if you divorce this delusional fleabag and marry me instead, I might be able to arrange an introduction."

Margaret's eyes lit up immediately.

"Vincent! You brilliant boy! This is the opportunity of a lifetime!"

"Elena," Margaret's voice turned deadly serious.

"I'm giving you one final choice. Divorce this pathetic trash right now and marry Vincent, or I'm calling the police to arrest both of you for theft."

"Grandmother, you can't be serious—" Elena began.

"Dead serious!" Margaret slammed her hand on the table.

“He has dragged you down long enough! It's time to cut the leash!"

"Think about it logically, Elena," Richard chimed in.

"Divorce him, you may get connections with the most powerful people in the country!"

Elena looked around the table, her face pale.

Her entire family was staring at her expectantly, their faces cold and calculating.

"I... I can't just—" Elena's voice cracked.

"Yes, you can!" Margaret's voice was ice-cold.

"Choose now, or spend the next decade in prison with your worthless husband!"

"Don't worry," Karvel said quietly, his hand gently touching Elena's shoulder. "Everything will be fine."

Elena looked at him desperately.

How could he be so calm? Didn’t he understand how serious it was?

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the restaurant's sound system.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are honored to announce the arrival of Mr. Sebastian Morrison, owner of the Morrison Hotel Chain and Morrison Industries!"

The entire room fell silent as if someone had sucked all the air out of it.

Margaret's fork clattered to her plate.

"Sebastian... Morrison?"

"The Sebastian Morrison?" Patricia whispered.

"The one who's been featured on the cover of Forbes three times?"

"The same Sebastian Morrison who had dinner with the President last month?" Robert's voice was barely audible.

The grand doors of the banquet hall swung open, and Sebastian Morrison entered with the presence of a king.

Tall, distinguished, with silver hair and a perfectly tailored suit, he commanded attention without saying a word.

Margaret practically leaped from her chair, smoothing her dress frantically.

"Mr. Morrison! What an incredible honor! You must be here because of Vincent! What a wonderful surprise!”

At the same time, Vincent smiled smugly and stood up, striding confidently toward Sebastian Morrison.

He knew it—Morrison must have heard he was here and came specifically to see him.Those security guards who had the nerve to kick him off the third floor earlier?He’d make sure Morrison fired every last one of them later!

"Mr. Morrison, sir! I'm Vincent Langford. My father’s —"

Everyone turned toward Vincent expectantly.

This was it—his moment.

But Morrison didn’t even look at him.

He walked straight past Vincent… as if he were invisible.

Vincent’s outstretched hand hung awkwardly in the air. His confident smirk faltered.

Then Morrison stopped.

In front of Karvel.

And bowed.

"Sir," he said with profound respect, "I sincerely apologize for the delay. Please do me the honor by allowing me to escort you and your wife to the top floor."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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“Running to Elena, you trash?”

Karvel froze mid-step, his mother-in-law’s voice slicing through the hallway like a rusted blade. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, gold bracelet jangling as she flicked a manicured nail at his threadbare sleeve. “Newsflash: She’s at the Plaza with Vincent—you know, the real man who doesn’t reek of dish soap and desperation.”

Vincent Langford? The entitled heir who’d been chasing his wife for months. Karvel’s jaw tightened. “That’s not true. Elena would never—”

“Oh, please.” She patted his cheek, her ring digging into his skin. “Just face it. Vincent’s much better. Better than your roach-infested childhood home, better than your mother’s hospital bills, better than you.”

His phone buzzed. A notification from the hospital: Final Notice: Outstanding payment due. Discharge ordered.

Then another call came in—Vincent’s voice on the line, lazy and cruel. “Aw, touchy. Face it, fleabag. She’s done. Three years of playing house with a loser? Even Elena’s got limits. Enjoy the funeral, if you could afford one.”

The line went dead.

Karvel stared at the screen, the world tilting. He dialed again. No answer. Panic clawed up his throat. There was no time for heartbreak now. He had to save his mother.

He took off running toward the hospital, lungs burning, sweat soaking through his shirt. When he skidded to a halt at the desk, he dropped to his knees. “Please, just a few more days. I’ll get the money—anything!”

The receptionist didn’t look up. “If you can’t pay, she’s out. This isn’t a charity kennel.”

Before he could plead further, screams echoed down the corridor.

“Someone jumped! From the fourth floor!”

A chill ran down his spine. He scrambled forward, shoving past doctors and nurses—only to find her crumpled on the marble tiles, blood pooling beneath her like spilled ink.

“No!” Karvel dropped beside her, voice raw. “Mom! Mom, please—!”

Her lips moved faintly. “I didn’t want to be a burden anymore…”

And then footsteps clicked behind him—Dr. Crane, smirking. “Tsk. The puppy still has tears left. Touching.”

Two security guards stepped forward. “If she dies without payment,” Crane said, “her body becomes property of the hospital. We’ll start with her kidneys.”

Karvel lunged, fists flying—but was beaten back, ribs cracking, vision blurring. As he collapsed beside his mother’s bed, the doctor leaned down. “Learn when to roll over and die.”

Just as the guards reached for her body, the blare of engines shook the walls.

Black SUVs screeched outside. Uniformed men stormed in, moving in perfect sync. At their front—a woman in white slacks and silver heels.

She walked straight to Karvel, bowed deeply, and whispered: “Young master… forgive me. I’m late.”

Everyone gasped.

Now, bruised and broken, Karvel faced a decision: trust this stranger who called him master—or fight alone against a system determined to bury him and his mother forever.