Poor Son-in-law

5

The driveway leading up to the Carter estate was a long stretch of cobblestone surrounded by towering oaks. The winter air was crisp, and the faint gray clouds above hinted at an oncoming storm. Marcus slowed the car as the grand, Victorian-style mansion came into view. It had been years since he’d last set foot here, and yet the sight of it still stirred something in him—nostalgia? Bitterness? He wasn’t sure.

He parked near the front steps, taking a moment to steady himself. The past few months had been nothing short of chaos, and now, standing here again, he felt like a man teetering on the edge of two worlds. One was his past—the ghost of the man he used to be, broken and humiliated. The other was his future, the man he was becoming: calculated, focused, and unrelenting.

As he stepped out of the car, the front door opened. Richard Carter, his uncle, stood tall in the doorway, his sharp features softened slightly by a welcoming smile.

“Marcus,” Richard greeted, his voice firm but warm. “You’re finally home.”

Marcus nodded, offering a faint smile of his own. “Paman.”

Richard descended the steps, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored coat. “You look… different. Stronger.”

“I had to be,” Marcus replied simply.

Richard studied him for a moment, then gestured toward the door. “Come inside. It’s freezing out here.”

The inside of the Carter mansion was just as grand as Marcus remembered. High ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and walls adorned with family portraits that seemed to stare down at him with judgmental eyes. A maid appeared, taking his coat and offering him a polite bow before disappearing into another room.

“Still keeping the house running like a palace, I see,” Marcus remarked, his tone light but with an edge of sarcasm.

Richard chuckled. “Some things never change. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

Marcus’s expression turned serious. “No. It’s not.”

Richard led him into the study, a room filled with leather-bound books, a large oak desk, and a roaring fireplace that cast flickering shadows on the walls. Marcus took a seat in one of the armchairs, while Richard poured them both a glass of whiskey.

“I heard about… everything,” Richard began, handing Marcus a glass. “Evelyn. The company. That scumbag Daniel Prescott.”

Marcus’s grip tightened slightly around the glass. “I’m sure everyone has.”

Richard sat across from him, leaning forward slightly. “They humiliated you, Marcus. But you’re a Carter. And Carters don’t stay down for long.”

Marcus met his uncle’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “What are you getting at, Paman?”

Richard smirked. “I know that look in your eyes. You’re planning something. And I want in.”

For a moment, Marcus said nothing, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he considered his uncle’s words. He had always respected Richard—not just as a family member but as a man who understood power and how to wield it. If anyone could be an ally in what he was about to do, it was him.

“You’re right,” Marcus finally said, his voice low but steady. “I am planning something.”

Richard leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I knew it. So, what’s the angle?”

Marcus took a slow sip of his whiskey before speaking. “Evelyn and Daniel think they’ve won. They think I’m out of the picture for good. But what they don’t realize is that I’m not the same man they pushed aside. I’ve changed. And I’m going to take back everything they stole from me—my dignity, my life, my power.”

Richard nodded approvingly. “Good. But revenge is a messy business, Marcus. You need to be smart about this.”

“I intend to be,” Marcus said firmly. “That’s why I’m here. I need your help, Paman. I want to learn the family business. Everything about it. If I’m going to rebuild myself, I need a foundation.”

Richard studied him for a moment, then raised his glass. “Then welcome to Carter Enterprises, Marcus. Let’s show them what a real Carter is made of.”

They clinked their glasses, the sound echoing softly in the room. But for Marcus, it wasn’t just a toast—it was a declaration. He was no longer the man Evelyn and Daniel had destroyed. He was something else entirely.

Later that evening, Marcus stood on the balcony outside his old bedroom, staring out at the sprawling estate. The cold wind bit at his face, but he didn’t care. His mind was racing, piecing together the fragments of his plan.

He thought of Evelyn—her ambitious smile, her calculated charm. Once, he had loved her with everything he had. And yet, she had discarded him like he was nothing. And Daniel… the snake who had slithered into his life and stolen what wasn’t his to take.

A part of him still felt the sting of betrayal, the ache of loss. But that part was growing smaller with each passing day, replaced by something else—something darker. He wasn’t just going to get even. He was going to make them regret ever underestimating him.

“Marcus?”

He turned to see his uncle standing in the doorway, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you sure about this?” Richard asked, stepping out onto the balcony. “Once you start down this path, there’s no turning back.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened. “I’m sure.”

Richard nodded slowly. “Then I’ll support you. But remember, Marcus—this isn’t just about revenge. It’s about reclaiming your place in the world. Don’t lose sight of that.”

“I won’t,” Marcus promised. “But they need to understand that I won’t be walked over again. Not by anyone.”

The following morning, Marcus sat in the study with Richard, poring over documents and blueprints of Carter Enterprises. The company was a powerhouse in the world of business, but it had been years since Marcus had been involved. Now, he was diving back in headfirst.

“What’s the first step?” Richard asked, leaning over the desk.

Marcus tapped a finger against the blueprint in front of him. “Evelyn’s company. Prescott Industries. They’ve been expanding aggressively, but their growth is unsustainable. If I can get back inside, I’ll find the cracks in their foundation.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Richard asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marcus smirked. “By becoming someone they can’t ignore. Someone they’ll want to bring back.”

Richard chuckled. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But be careful, Marcus. Evelyn and Daniel aren’t stupid.”

“I know,” Marcus said. “But neither am I.”

That night, Marcus sat alone in his room, a notebook in hand. He scribbled notes furiously, his mind racing with ideas and strategies. He could feel the pieces falling into place, the beginnings of a plan that would not only bring him back into Evelyn’s world but also tear it apart from the inside.

As he closed the notebook, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. The man staring back at him was unrecognizable from the one he had been just months ago. This man was sharper, harder, and ready for whatever came next.

Marcus leaned back in his chair, a small, bitter smile playing on his lips. “This is just the beginning,” he muttered to himself.

And as the storm outside began to rage, Marcus made a silent vow: he would reclaim everything that was taken from him. And when he did, he would make sure Evelyn and Daniel felt every ounce of the pain they had inflicted on him.