Rise Of The Forsaken Son In Law

Chapter 3

The night after meeting Marcus, Adam lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his dimly lit apartment. The thin, faded curtains did little to block out the streetlights outside, casting dull orange glows over the peeling paint on his walls. It felt so real everything he’d been offered, the new life he might finally have a chance to build.

He turned Marcus’s words over in his mind, letting them sink in.

.“Potential isn’t about what you have—it’s about what you’re willing to become and what you're willing to give up."

 No one had ever believed he was capable of becoming something great in the nearest future. Not Emily his wife, not her family. And truthfully, he’d stopped believing it himself a long time ago.

But here he was, with a folder full of business leads, investment options, and connection of wealth. All he had to do was take that first step, to make it believable.

Finally, just before dawn, Adam drifted off into an uneasy sleep, his mind restless with a strange new mix of fear and anticipation.

The next morning, Adam got up so early, slipping into his only decent suit—a dark gray one with frayed cuffs and a loose button he’d never gotten around to fixing. He brushed his hair fast, straightened his tie, and took one last look at himself in the mirror before making an exist to the outside world.

 This was finally it. No more excuses to give.

He opened the folder and picked one of the leads, deciding to start little by little. An old café on the edge of the business district had just gone up for sale. It wasn’t glamorous, but it had potential and it was in a perfect sale site. 

The café was near the new metro station, so it could become a hit with commuters, given the right sales.

He took a deep breath, grabbed the folder, and headed out the door, still with him thinking on how the day would be like.

He finally stepped out, reaching the cafe already.

The café was even shabbier than he’d expected of it to be, but it was easy to see that it had once been charming and beautiful.

With the faded blue paint flaked off the walls, the sign above the door hung up there, and a few letters were missing from the name: 

R sewood Café. 

But inside of it, he found worn leather chairs, small wooden tables, and a long counter that was somehow cozy despite its age. 

The current owner, a middle-aged man named Joe, greeted him with a smile on his face.

“You interested in buying the place?” Joe asked, his tone more skeptical than hopeful.

Adam nodded to him. 

“I’d like to hear more about the property, if you don’t mind.”

Joe snorted, scratching his head. 

“I don’t know what to say, really. Business has been rough for a while now. Too much competition with the fancy coffee chains. The regulars all disappeared once a new café opened down the block. Guess they got tired of the hard experience.”

Adam glanced around, taking in every detail the middle aged man had. The café had character, he just needed to figure out how to make that work in its favor. 

His mind flashed back to his days working as a barista in college. Those days had been harder for him, but he’d learned a thing or two about running a café, about the regulars who craved connection as much as coffee.

“You know,” he said, turning back to Joe, “this place has something those fancy chains can’t replicate. Personality. People miss that. They want a place that feels… genuine, and comfortable.”

Joe looked at him with surprise, his brows raised looking speckitcal. 

“You really think that could bring customers back here?”

Adam nodded, feeling a spark of excitement rise up within himself. 

“If you give them something the big chains can't offer, unique blends, community events, a personal touch. I think this place could be packed again.”

Joe’s skeptical expression softened, and for a moment, Adam saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

“I think that lot of work, you know. Running a café isn’t easy.”

Adam smiled, despite the anxiety gnawing at him. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

After a long pause, Joe nodded, extending his hand. “Alright. You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll even stick around for a couple of weeks, show you the ropes.”

They shook hands, and just like that, Adam had taken his first step into success.

****

The next few days passed in a blur of cleaning, repairs, and brainstorming sessions with Joe. Adam poured every ounce of energy into making the café feel fresh and inviting. He painted the walls a soft teal, replaced the half destroyed sign, and even invested in a new espresso machine to give customers a richer experience. Joe introduced him to a handful of remaining regulars, and slowly, word began to spread about the changes.

On the day of the re-opening, Adam arrived early, his nerves taut as he set up the chalkboard outside with the day’s specials. He straightened the tables, checked the coffee supply, and adjusted the fresh flowers he’d placed on each table. By the time the doors opened, he was practically vibrating with anticipation.

For the first hour, only a few customers trickled in—mostly curious passersby. Adam did his best to welcome them with a warm smile and engage in casual conversation. Slowly but surely, people began to linger, chatting over their coffees and complimenting the new ambiance. 

By noon, the café was buzzing with energy. A group of office workers came in on their lunch break, curious about the new menu that one of their colleagues had mentioned. Adam moved between tables, taking orders, refilling cups, and chatting with customers about the café’s history, which Joe had happily filled him in on.

When a couple lingered at the counter, debating whether to try the blueberry scones, Adam jumped in, sharing a story Joe had told him about a regular who’d once declared them “the best in the city.” The couple laughed and ordered a pair, clearly charmed by the personal touch.

By the end of the day, the café had made more than it had in weeks. Joe clapped Adam on the shoulder as they closed up, his face filled with pride.

“You did good, kid,” Joe said, his voice warm and welcoming. “Feels like the old days again. People actually seem happy to be here.”

Adam felt a swell of pride, something he hadn’t felt in years. He’d done it. He’d taken the first step, proven to himself that he could turn something forgotten into something valuable.

But his success didn’t go unnoticed. Just as he locked the door and turned to head home, he spotted a familiar figure leaning against a sleek black car parked across the street. Marcus Caldwell stood with his arms crossed, watching him with a faint, knowing smile.

Adam’s heart raced as he approached.

 “Marcus… What are you doing here?”

Marcus inclined his head, his gaze intense. “I wanted to see if you had what it takes to do this. I have to say, you’ve surprised me more than I thought."

Adam swallowed, unsure if this was praise or another test. “So… what now?”

Marcus’s smile widened. “Now, you keep moving forward. Today was impressive, but it’s only the beginning. There’s a long road ahead, Adam, and it won’t be easy as you think.”

Adam nodded, a strange excitement bubbling in his chest despite the warning. “I understand.”

Marcus stepped closer, lowering his voice. 

“Good. Because from now on, you’re not just running a café. You’re building something much bigger. And if you succeed… let’s just say the Taylors will regret ever dismissing you after from there life.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with promise. Adam’s heart thudded in his chest as he processed the meaning behind them.

He wasn’t just on a journey to success. He was on the path to reclaiming his dignity, his pride, and his future. And with Marcus’s help, he was ready to show the Taylors exactly who they had underestimated.

He was about to rise to the peak. And make them regret all there actions.