The Tycoon's Vendetta

A Forgotten Man

Michael stared at the ceiling, his eyes vacant and lifeless. Another day, another round of humiliation and abuse. He let out a deep sigh, his body sinking further into the worn couch that had become his constant companion.

"Michael! Get down here this instant!" The shrill voice of his mother-in-law, Beatrice, pierced through the stillness of the small apartment. He cringed, knowing what was to come.

Slowly, he dragged himself off the couch and made his way downstairs, his head hung low. As he entered the lavish living room, Beatrice's cold gaze burned into him.

"There you are, you useless lump. Your wife has been calling you for the past half-hour. What have you been doing up there, hmm? Sleeping the day away, I suppose."

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. Sarah, his wife, glared at him with a mixture of disdain and disgust.

"Mother's right, Michael. You're nothing but a burden on this household. When are you going to get a job and start pulling your weight around here?"

*A burden. That's all I am to them. Another mouth to feed, another source of disappointment. Why do I even bother trying?*

"I-I've been looking, Sarah. You know how hard it is out there." Michael's voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes downcast.

Beatrice scoffed, "Oh, please. Don't give us that tired excuse. You're simply too lazy and incompetent to hold down a job. It's a wonder Sarah even married you in the first place."

Michael flinched the words stinging like a slap to the face. He risked a glance at his wife, hoping to find some semblance of support, but her expression remained cold and unforgiving.

*Why do I even bother? They'll never see me as anything more than a failure. I'm trapped, powerless to change my situation.*

"I'm sorry, I'll try harder," Michael mumbled, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Beatrice let out an exasperated sigh. "Sorry isn't good enough, Michael. It's time you started pulling your weight around here. Sarah and I have had enough of your laziness and incompetence."

Sarah nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her chest. "Mother's right. If you can't find a job soon, I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to leave."

Michael's heart raced, panic rising in his chest. "Leave? But where will I go? This is my home too." His voice quivered, betraying his desperation.

Beatrice waved a dismissive hand. "This is our home, Michael. You're just a guest here, and one we're quickly growing tired of. Now, get out of our sight and do something productive for once."

Tears threatened to spill from Michael's eyes, but he blinked them back, unwilling to show his weakness in front of these relentless women. He trudged back upstairs, each step heavier than the last.

“I'm a failure. A disappointment to my wife and her family. Why do I even bother trying anymore? They'll never see me as anything more than a burden.”

As he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Beatrice's voice carry up from below.

"Really, Sarah, I don't know how you put up with him. You deserve so much better than this useless excuse of a man."

Sarah's response was laced with venom. "I know, Mother. I'm starting to wonder if I made the right choice in marrying him. Maybe it's time I start looking for a real man who can provide for me."

Michael's heart sank, the weight of their words crushing him. He slumped down on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

“A real man. Someone who can provide. That's not me. I'm nothing, a failure in their eyes. Why am I even still here?”

The sound of the front door slamming shut jarred him from his thoughts. Beatrice had left, leaving Sarah alone in the apartment with him. Michael knew he should brace himself for another round of abuse, but he no longer had the energy to fight back.

Sarah's footsteps echoed up the stairs, and Michael tensed, preparing for the onslaught. When she entered the room, her expression was a mixture of fury and disgust.

"Look at you, sitting there feeling sorry for yourself. When are you going to get your act together and start being a real husband?" She towered over him, her hands on her hips.

Michael didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the floor. He could feel the heat of her anger radiating off her.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why I even married you. You're pathetic, Michael. Absolutely pathetic." She paused, her lips curling into a sneer. "Maybe it's time I found someone who can actually provide for me."

Michael's head snapped up, his eyes wide with fear. "What are you saying, Sarah?"

She laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "I'm saying that if you can't get your life together, I'm going to leave you. And trust me, I won't be coming back this time."

Michael felt his world crumbling around him. The thought of losing Sarah, the only person he had left, was more than he could bear.

“No, not Sarah too. I can't lose her. She's all I have. I have to do something, anything to make her stay.”

"Please, Sarah, give me a little more time. I'll find a job, I promise. Just don't leave me." Michael reached out, his hand trembling.

Sarah recoiled, her expression hardening. "Time? You've had plenty of time, Michael. It's time for you to grow up and start being a real man." She turned and started to leave the room.

Michael jumped up, panic coursing through him. "Wait, please! I'll do anything, just don't leave me."

Sarah paused her hand on the doorknob. "Anything, huh? Well, there is one thing you could do to prove your worth."

Michael's heart raced, hope flickering in his chest. "Anything, Sarah. Just tell me what to do."

She turned to face him, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Get out. Pack your things and leave this house. I'm done with you and your uselessness."

Michael's hope turned to ashes, his heart sinking. "But where will I go? I have nowhere else to—"

"That's not my problem, Michael." Sarah cut him off, her voice laced with contempt. "Figure it out. Now get out of my sight."

She slammed the door behind her, leaving Michael alone, his dreams of redemption shattered. He sank back down onto the bed, his head in his hands, as the weight of his failure threatened to crush him.

“It's over. I've lost everything. Sarah, my home, my hope. I have nothing left. What am I going to do?”

The sound of the front door slamming shut once again jolted him from his thoughts. Beatrice had returned, and Michael knew he had to face her again.

Slowly, he made his way downstairs, his steps heavy with dread. As he entered the living room, Beatrice's piercing gaze locked onto him.

"Well, well, if it isn't the useless husband himself. I thought I told you to get out of my sight." Her voice dripped with venom.

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He felt like a cornered animal, trapped and helpless.

Beatrice's eyes narrowed, and she approached him, her movements predatory. "What's the matter, Michael? Cat got your tongue?"

Michael recoiled, his heart pounding in his chest. "I-I'm sorry, I was just—"

"Sorry? Sorry isn't good enough, you pathetic excuse of a man." Beatrice's voice rose, her anger palpable.

Michael shrunk back, his hands trembling. "Please, I'll try harder, I promise. Just give me another chance."

Beatrice let out a harsh laugh. "Another chance? You've had plenty of chances, and you've squandered every single one of them." She took a step closer, her face mere inches from his.

Michael could feel her hot breath on his face, and he fought the urge to turn away. "I-I'll do better, I swear. Just please, don't—"

"Don't what, Michael?" Beatrice sneered, her eyes filled with contempt. "Don't kick you out? Don't make your life a living hell. Well, too bad. You've had your chance, and you blew it."

Michael's heart sank, the weight of her words crushing him. He opened his mouth to plead for mercy, but the sound of the front door opening stopped him in his tracks.

Sarah stood in the entryway, her expression unreadable. "Mother, I think it's time we had a talk."

Beatrice turned to face her daughter, a triumphant smile on her face. "Ah, Sarah, perfect timing. I was just about to have a little chat with your dear husband here."

Sarah's gaze shifted to Michael, and for a moment, he dared to hope that she might come to his defense. But the look in her eyes told a different story.

"Mother, I think it's time we discussed Michael's future... or rather, his lack of one in this household."

Michael's heart plummeted, his last glimmer of hope extinguished. As Sarah and Beatrice began to discuss his fate, he knew that his world was about to come crashing down around him.