The Rise of the Humiliated Son-in-Law

Successfully Rescued Her

Willson prepares to call for his guard, his mind filled with panic. In his desperate state, he doesn't realize a mysterious figure is watching his every move.

Gaston, the masked man, knows exactly where Willson's weak point is. With quick and agile movements, like the wind blowing, Gaston approaches. In an instant, he strikes Willson at the precise point, causing Willson to collapse to the floor, unconscious. The sound of his body hitting the ground breaks the suffocating silence.

Vivian, standing in the corner of the basement, is still confused and scared. She trembles as she gazes at the masked man. "Who are you?" she asks, her voice shaking. However, Gaston doesn't respond, as if he is a shadow that doesn’t wish to be revealed.

Swiftly, Gaston pulls Vivian away, leading her out of Willson's luxurious basement. His steps are quick and purposeful, while Vivian feels caught between fear and an odd sense of comfort. Though this man is a stranger, there’s something about him that makes Vivian feel safe, as if she has known him for a long time.

They walk through the dark corridors, and Gaston finds a relatively safe exit. The atmosphere outside the mansion contrasts sharply with the tension they left behind. It’s a calm night, with stars shining in the sky as if they are witnessing their escape.

After walking for a while, they finally stop in a safe place. Vivian breathes heavily, her heart racing. She looks at Gaston with curiosity and a hint of fear. "Who are you?" she asks again, her voice calmer, though still tinged with tremors. "Why did you help me?"

Gaston does not answer, his eyes focused on Vivian.

Gaston gently pats Vivian's shoulder, trying to reassure her. He thinks that in this place, far from Willson's home, they are safe enough. "I have to go," he says quietly, trying not to add to Vivian's worries.

But Vivian immediately urges Gaston to stop. "Wait!" Her voice is tense. Gaston halts, turning to her with a worried expression. Vivian steps closer, her movements cautious, as if approaching something very fragile.

Gaston feels nervous; there’s a tension between them that cannot be ignored. Vivian approaches and gently takes Gaston's hand, feeling the warmth and strength radiating from the masked man. "Who are you really?" she asks again, her voice softer, filled with hope. 

With careful movements, Vivian touches the mask on Gaston's face. However, Gaston holds her hand back, his eyes showing tension. He shakes his head, trying to convey that he cannot reveal his identity. Vivian senses there is something deep behind Gaston's demeanor, and she wants to understand.

“I won’t take off your mask,” Vivian promises, her eyes burning with the desire to know. Yet, Gaston remains silent, offering no response. Vivian sighs, feeling frustration beginning to creep in. “Alright,” she finally says. “I’ll call you Hero.”

Hearing that, Gaston nods in agreement, as if the name gives him new meaning. Vivian smiles, feeling a little more relieved, even though her curiosity still burns. “Hero, can you talk or not?” she asks, hoping for an answer.

Gaston shrugs, indicating that he’s unsure.

Vivian chuckles softly, feeling an odd warmth between them. “It seems like you’re more of a listener than a talker,” she says with a smile, easing some of the tension between them.

Finally, Vivian gives up trying to force Gaston to speak. She realizes there must be a strong reason behind this man’s silence. “Once again, thank you,” she says sincerely, looking into Gaston’s eyes with gratitude. Gaston nods, appreciating her expression of thanks.

They gaze at each other in a silence filled with meaning. Vivian feels she can understand something from behind Gaston’s mask. There’s a sense of pain, courage, and determination reflected in his eyes. Vivian knows that, despite how strange and frightening this situation is, she is not alone.

She also knows that Gaston must be wondering how she ended up in Willson’s basement. Gaston nods slowly, as if answering an unspoken question. Vivian takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. “This isn’t how I wanted to be alone with Willson,” she says, her voice full of regret. She feels trapped in a situation she doesn’t want. “I can only be with you because my husband is detained by Willson's guards and Jonas. They didn’t give me a choice.”

My life is a mess, Vivian laments inwardly. On one hand, she feels obligated to honor her mother, who always wanted the best for her. But on the other hand, she feels sympathy for Gaston, the man standing before her, looking at her with hope.

Gaston gently holds Vivian's shoulders, as if apologizing for everything that has happened. There’s a deep pain in his heart—made even harder by the fact that he has to hide behind a mask in front of his wife.

Vivian sees the expression on Gaston’s face and feels conflicted. “Gaston is my foolish husband,” she says, joking lightly even though her heart is heavy. “But I married him because of my father’s wishes, not for love.”

For these three years, despite the many difficulties, Gaston has been very kind to her. She remembers the little moments when Gaston helped prepare meals, changed light bulbs, and was always there for her when she felt lonely. “Even someone who takes care of a stray dog can eventually learn to love it. Especially a good husband like him,” Vivian continues, her voice starting to soften. 

Gaston gazes deeply at Vivian, feeling a longing to share everything that’s in his heart.

Gaston falls silent, his mind drifting far away. Honestly, he always thought Vivian was enduring her situation just to defy her mother, not because of any deep feelings. He feels confused and a bit guilty, unsure how to express everything he feels.

“Why are you lost in thought?” Vivian asks, breaking the silence between them. Gaston shakes his head, unable to find the right words to respond.

Vivian looks at him with hope. “Can we meet again?” Her voice is soft, but there’s a deep yearning in it. Gaston doesn’t answer, but his faint smile seems to offer a glimmer of hope.

“I hope to see you again, Hero,” Vivian continues, adding a touch of sweetness to the tense atmosphere. Seeing the smile on Gaston’s face lightens her heart.

Finally, Vivian musters the courage to ask for permission. “Can I hug you?” She looks at Gaston with hopeful eyes. Gaston hesitates, wrestling with his feelings. Deep down, he wants to offer support and warmth, but he’s still trapped in uncertainty.

After a few long seconds, Gaston gives in. Vivian quickly steps forward and hugs him tightly. As her body touches his, she feels as if all the burdens she has carried vanish in an instant. She admits, “I’ve always been the one taking care of the men in my life. But tonight, I’m so happy to feel protected by such a strong man.”

Gaston silently feels guilty. He wants to be the one who can fully protect Vivian, yet he knows he holds many secrets. Each heartbeat seems to remind him of the responsibility he must bear.

In his heart, Gaston promises to keep Vivian safe, no matter how difficult the circumstances they face may be.

They release their embrace, and Vivian feels the warmth of Gaston fade as they pull apart. “I have to go now,” she says, her voice firm even though her heart feels heavy. “My husband is probably waiting to be rescued.”

Vivian turns and walks away quickly.

Gaston also leaves, heading to another place.

Vivian feels a strong wind at her back. When she turns around, the figure of Hero, who had given her comfort and safety, has vanished. A wave of sadness washes over her, but she knows there are more important things to do.

Meanwhile, Gaston returns to the spot he was in earlier. He quickly puts away his mask.

Then, he deliberately punches his own face until it bruises, ensuring Vivian believes he has truly been attacked.

After that, Gaston crouches in a dark corner and begins to cry softly.

Suddenly, a familiar voice breaks the silence. “Gaston!” Vivian appears like a light in the darkness, her eyes filled with concern.

“Vivi!” he cries, springing up and running to embrace her. He weeps in pain, feeling the warmth and protection that only his wife can provide.

“Who hit you?” Vivian asks, her voice full of care.

“Jonas’s men,” Gaston replies, his tone like that of a child caught doing something wrong. He feels so vulnerable in front of Vivian.

Vivian gently pats Gaston’s shoulder, urging him to calm down. “Shh, I’ll take care of you at home,” she says, trying to soothe her husband. After a moment in that warm embrace, they finally let go. 

Vivian holds Gaston's face. “This must really hurt,” she says, her eyes filled with empathy. Gaston simply nods, letting out a quiet sob.

“Let’s go home!” Vivian urges him.

Gaston can only follow. They both get into the car, with Vivian taking the driver’s seat, her hands steady on the wheel.

When they arrive home, Vivian rushes inside, pulling Gaston along with her. “Come on, sit here!” she commands, pointing to a spot on the comfortable sofa. Gaston complies, feeling a bit relieved to be in a more familiar setting.

Vivian immediately searches for a first aid kit to treat his wounds. She opens the cabinet and quickly pulls out bandages, antiseptic, and cotton balls. Suddenly, her phone rings. Hesitantly, she glances at the screen and sees her mother’s name.

When Vivian answers, her mother’s angry voice hits her like a ton of bricks. “What have you done to Willson?” she snaps, full of rage.

Vivian doesn’t want to argue in this state. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Mom,” she replies curtly.

“Vivian!” Rosaline shouts, her voice rising. Vivian doesn’t want to get caught in a prolonged argument, so she quickly hangs up.

She brings the first aid kit and sits in front of Gaston, trying to calm herself. “I’m sorry,” she says, gazing at Gaston’s battered face. Carefully, she begins to treat his wounds, cleaning the bruise on his cheek with antiseptic. “This must really hurt,” she says softly, trying to give her full attention to her husband.

Gaston nods, feeling the gentle touch of Vivian’s hands. “Thank you, Vivi.”

Vivian takes a deep breath, attempting to steady her racing thoughts. “Tomorrow we’re going to face a big problem.”