Max Carter stands in the kitchen, a sponge in his hand, scrubbing the greasy skillet until his knuckles ache. His fingers, raw and pruned, move in circles, wearing down the grime that clings to the pan like his pride clings to the last shred of his dignity. The sound of dishes clattering fills the room, a dull echo in the hollow space where his dreams used to be. His clothes hang off him, too loose, worn from years of use. The skin beneath them is pale, a reflection of the man he’s become—small, invisible, a shadow of the person he once was.
Behind him, the door swings open. Emma Carter, his wife, steps in, heels clicking against the tiled floor. She glances at him, barely acknowledging his presence before her attention shifts to the kitchen counter. “Max, why haven’t you cleaned this up yet? I told you this morning, didn’t I?” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. Max flinches but doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry, Emma. I’ll get to it right now.” Emma doesn’t respond, her silence more suffocating than her words. She turns away, the scent of her expensive perfume lingering in the air, mixing with the smell of dish soap and sweat. The door swings shut behind her, leaving Max alone with the half-washed dishes. He sighs, feeling the familiar weight on his chest. He’s used to it by now—this life, this routine. Four years of marriage have taught him to accept his place, to swallow his pride and do what he’s told. In this house, he’s not a husband but a servant, a man who exists to fulfill the demands of his wife and her family. Richard and Fiona Hawthorn, Emma’s parents, never miss an opportunity to remind him of his worth—or rather, his lack of it. They see him as a failure, a leech feeding off their wealth, a man with no prospects and no backbone. To them, he’s nothing more than a persistent loser who somehow wormed his way into their daughter’s life. Max knows what they think of him. He hears it in their words, sees it in their eyes every time they look at him. But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t fight back. He simply nods, agrees, and does what he’s told. Because what else can he do? This is his life now. He finishes the dishes, drying his hands on a threadbare towel. As he turns to leave the kitchen, his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s an old model, scratched and cracked, a relic from a time when he could afford to buy new things. He pulls it out, glancing at the screen. A text message. He frowns, squinting at the unfamiliar number. Who could be texting him? Nobody ever texts him, except for Emma when she’s giving him orders. He unlocks the phone and opens the message. Master Carter, your presence is requested by the Silver Crescent Clan. Max stares at the screen, the words blurring in front of his eyes. ‘Master Carter?’ That can’t be right. There must be some mistake. He’s not a master of anything, least of all some mysterious clan. He’s just Max Carter, the nobody who lives in his in-laws’ house, the man who cleans up after everyone and doesn’t even get a thank you in return. But the message is clear. The Silver Crescent Clan—a name he’s only heard whispered in hushed tones, a name associated with power, wealth, and influence—wants to see him. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of fear and curiosity swirling inside him. What could they possibly want with him? How did they even get his number? He glances around the empty kitchen, half expecting someone to jump out and tell him it’s all a joke. But there’s no one there. Just the silence, the dishes, and the faint hum of the refrigerator. He reads the message again, then checks the number. It’s real, or at least it seems real. And it’s addressed to him, specifically. Max swallows hard, his mind racing. Should he ignore it? Should he show it to Emma? No, she’d only laugh or get angry, accusing him of wasting time on nonsense. He pockets the phone, deciding to think about it later. There’s still work to do, chores to finish before anyone notices he’s slacking off. But as he moves through the house, dusting the furniture and sweeping the floors, the message stays with him, a small flicker of something he hasn’t felt in a long time—hope, maybe, or the possibility of something more. Later that evening, as he stands outside in the backyard, his breath misting in the cool night air, he pulls out his phone again. The message is still there, as strange and confusing as it was the first time he read it. Master Carter, your presence is requested by the Silver Crescent Clan. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what any of this means. But he can’t ignore the pull, the urge to find out more. This could be the break he’s been waiting for, the chance to change his life, to prove that he’s more than just the failure everyone thinks he is. He glances back at the house, the lights glowing warmly through the windows. Inside, Emma is probably sitting with her parents, discussing something he’s not a part of, something important that he’ll never understand. They don’t need him. They don’t even want him. But someone out there does. Someone who called him ‘Master.’ He makes up his mind. He’s going to find out what this is all about, even if it’s just a mistake, even if it leads nowhere. Because at this point, he has nothing left to lose. With a deep breath, he taps out a reply. ‘Who are you? Why do you want to see me?’ He hesitates for a moment, then hits send. The message flies off into the night, disappearing into the void. He waits, staring at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. Seconds tick by, stretching into minutes. Nothing. No reply. Max sighs, lowering the phone. Maybe it was just a prank. Maybe he was foolish to think it could be anything else. But just as he’s about to put the phone away, it buzzes in his hand. A new message. ‘You will understand everything soon. A car will be sent to pick you up tomorrow at noon. Be ready, Master Carter.’ Max’s breath catches in his throat. Tomorrow at noon? A car? This is getting stranger by the minute. But he’s made his decision. He’s going to see this through, whatever it is. For once in his life, he’s going to take a chance, even if it scares him. He slips the phone back into his pocket and heads inside, his mind racing with possibilities. Tomorrow could be the day everything changes—or the day he makes the biggest mistake of his life. Either way, he’ll be ready.Max stood outside the grand entrance of the meeting place, his heart pounding in his chest. The tall, steel gates loomed before him, a silent guardian to the unknown world inside. A sleek black car had picked him up and delivered him to this place, deep within the city’s elite district. Now, here he was, standing alone, feeling out of place in his worn-out clothes. His phone buzzed again.“Enter,” the message read.Max swallowed hard and pushed the gate open. The gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked up the long driveway. The mansion ahead was nothing like his in-laws’ place. It was cold, modern, with towering windows that seemed to judge him with every step he took.He was greeted at the door by a butler dressed in a sharp black suit. The man’s expression was unreadable, his demeanor professional. “Mr. Carter, please follow me.”Max nodded, too nervous to speak. He was led through a series of corridors, each more lavish than the last, until they reached a large study. Dark woo
“I have to do this…”Max stood in the doorway, clutching the jewelry box tightly. The cold night air bit at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill in his heart. He had seen Emma with that man, laughing, her eyes sparkling in a way they hadn’t for him in years. He swallowed hard and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him.Emma was still in the gazebo, her laughter carrying on the wind. Max approached slowly, each step heavy with the weight of what he knew was coming. When he reached the edge of the garden, he stopped, watching her. She looked so happy, so free. He wanted to remember her like this, just for a moment, before everything shattered.Taking a deep breath, he walked toward the gazebo. Emma noticed him first, her smile fading as she saw him approach. James Caldwell, the man she had invited into their home, turned and eyed Max with disdain.“Max,” Emma said, her voice sharp, “what are you doing here?”“I came to see you,” Max replied, his voice steady des
Max stepped through the grand entrance of the hotel, the click of his shoes lost in the vast, high-ceilinged lobby. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting soft light on the sleek marble floors. He paused for a moment, taking it all in. The kind of luxury that once would’ve felt normal, but now made him feel like an outsider.He ran his thumb over the edges of the black card in his pocket. The card was a relic from another life—one he barely knows. Every step felt heavy.The reception desk gleamed ahead. He approached, keeping his shoulders back, trying to exude a confidence he no longer felt. The woman behind the desk glanced up, her smile professional but distant.“Good evening,” Max said, sliding the card across the counter. “One room, for the night.”The receptionist took the card without looking at him and began typing. Max let out a breath, feeling the weight on his chest begin to lift. Just one night. Just a place to rest, to forget about everything outside these walls.
“Kneel, Max,” he had said. “Beg for my mercy, and this can all go away.”The glint in James's eyes was unmistakable. He stood there, towering over Max with that smug smirk on his face, his words still hanging in the air like a foul stench.Max’s breath caught in his chest, a tightness squeezing his ribs. He had kept his composure since the moment James walked into the hotel. He’d bitten his tongue through every insult, every sneer. But now, standing face-to-face with this man who had ruined his life, the calm he’d maintained began to slip.“Kneel?” Max repeated, his voice low but seething with anger. “You think I’d kneel to you?”James’s grin widened, a cruel glint in his eyes. “It’s your choice. Kneel, and I’ll make all this disappear. Or don’t, and see what happens.”The room around them seemed to close in, the luxurious chandeliers and soft music fading into the background. Max could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His hands clenched into fists, his body trembling with rage.H
Max's wrists chafed against the cold metal of the cuffs, tension thick in the air. Across the lobby, James stood tall, arms crossed, a smug smile on his face. The receptionist hovered nearby, her loyalty to James keeping her rooted in place, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.Max clenched his fists, a storm brewing inside him. He fought hard, but no one was listening. They had made up their minds, and the walls felt like they were closing in.“Let me go,” he demanded, his voice steady despite the chaos. “If you take me down to the station, you’ll regret it. My clan won’t stand for this.”Laughter erupted from James, a cruel sound that echoed in the silence. “Your clan?” he sneered, disbelief dripping from his words. “You really think anyone cares about you or your ‘clan’? Look at you—no one in this city even knows your name.”The police officers exchanged glances, unsure. James pressed on, mocking Max’s background. “You can only dream of being connected to the biggest empire in this
James blinked, frozen for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “What the hell—”James’s smug grin faltered. A tall man strode in, his presence commanding the room. He wore a sharp suit, his eyes scanning the scene with authority.“What’s happening in my hotel?” he demanded, voice steady and firm.The receptionist jumped at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Smithson,” she stammered, “this man—Max—he stole a credit card and tried to book a room.” She tried to explain, walking hurriedly from her desk.“Stole?” Max shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. “That card is mine! This is bullying!”Benson Smithson, the hotel’s owner, turned his piercing gaze on the receptionist. “Show me the evidence,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.The receptionist hesitated but nodded, rummaging through her desk. Max’s heart raced. The weight of the situation pressed down on him. He was fighting against more than just accusations; he was fighting for his dignity.James seized
The next day, Max stood at the entrance of the Silver Crescent Clan estate, again but this time it looked different from the last time he was bought here. The mansion loomed before him, a blend of stone and glass shining in the morning sun. He took a deep breath, feeling both excitement and anxiety twist in his stomach. This was his family.A familiar butler that was known as the person that he meant the first time he was bought here, so he opened the door. “Welcome, Master Max. Please follow me. Sir.”Max nodded and stepped inside. The foyer was grand, filled with portraits of stern ancestors. Some seemed to watch him, judging him.“Here we are,” the butler said, leading him into a large hall. Family members gathered, their chatter fading as they turned to face him.A few faces showed curiosity, but many were cold. Max felt their eyes assessing him, their whispers sharp.“Is that him?” a woman whispered.“Looks like a nobody,” a man muttered.Max squared his shoulders, pushing back t
Max’s phone buzzed against the silent office. He almost ignored it, buried in work, but something made him look. The caller ID showed a hospital number, and his brows furrowed.“This is Max Carter,” he answered.“Mr. Carter, this is Nurse Stevens at Memorial Hospital,” a calm voice spoke. “Emma Hawthorn’s been in an accident. You’re listed as her emergency contact. We need you here to sign off on her surgery. She’s in critical condition.”Emma Carter. Or, Emma Hawthorn now, as she’d chosen to be called since the divorce. The name hit him like a punch. His ex-wife, the woman who’d once been his everything and then left him shattered, needed him now. She’d put him down, belittled him, and tossed him aside, yet here he was—her only lifeline.Max felt a strange blend of sympathy and bitterness rise in his chest. But he didn’t hesitate. He shoved his work aside, grabbed his keys, and headed out of the office, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. Memories of their marriage surfaced