Tom wiped the sweat from his brow as he swept the kitchen floor. Sunlight pierced through the window, casting a warm glow on the worn wood. He had grown used to these quiet mornings.
The door creaked open, and his mother-in-law walked in. She glanced at Tom with a look of disdain. "Still at it, I see," she said with her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I guess you missed a spot there. Typical." Tom didn't respond. He had learned that silence was often the best way to deal with her. He kept his head down, focusing on the task at hand.
She moved closer, peering over his shoulder. "You call this cleaning? I don't know why Malia even bothers with you. She must be out of her mind, letting herself be tied to someone like you. Out of pity, no less."
Tom's jaw tightened, but he kept his focus on the broom. "I'm doing my best, Mother-in-law."
"Your best?" She laughed, "Your best was never good enough. After 2 years, you're still in the same pathetic state. You have refused to elevate, you have refused to progress in life."
Tom straightened up and looked at her. "I'm here because I promised to take care of your daughter."
She snorted. "A promise? That's rich. We both know the only reason you're here is because of that business deal gone wrong. My husband thought he could fix everything by marrying our daughter to your family but it turned out that your family didn’t have the power to save us,”
“You can't even clean a floor properly, let alone manage a household or a business." She continued.
"I know I may not be the best son-in-law out there," Tom said quietly. "But I'm trying to be the best husband Malia needs right now."
Tom’s Mother-in-law waved her hand dismissively. "Trying isn't enough, Tom. It never has been. Malia deserved someone strong, someone capable, someone with power. Not someone who needed to be pitied. She only agreed to remain in this marriage because she felt sorry for you. We all did."
Tom's grip on the broom tightened, but he said nothing. He knew any retort would only make things worse.
She shook her head. "It's been two years, Tom. Two long years of watching you fumble around, trying to play the role of a husband. You think you're doing us a favor by being here?”
Tom took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. "I love Malia. That's all that matters to me."
"Love?" She spat, "You think love is enough? Love didn't save our business. Love didn't make you a competent man. Malia needed stability, not empty promises and half-hearted efforts."
Tom glanced around him, the place that had become a prison. "I'm doing everything I can to make this work."
She scoffed. "Your best isn't good enough, Tom. It never will be. My daughter deserves better than this, better than you."
She turned on her heel and started to leave, but then paused at the doorway. "Remember this, Tom. You're only here because of a promise, a deal. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't even be a footnote in our lives."
With that, she walked out, leaving Tom alone in the quiet space, with the broom still in his hands.
Footsteps echoed in the hall, and Paul, Malia’s brother, appeared, holding a glass of juice. Paul took a leisurely sip, his eyes locking onto Tom.
“Hey, Tom,” he said with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You know, it’s not that bad that you’re here. The maids get tired sometimes, and you’re just the right person for the job.”
Tom straightened as he met Paul’s gaze. “I’m just trying to help out.”
Paul chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Sure, sure. Helping out. But tell me, how much longer are you planning to keep spending my sister’s money? It’s been two years already, man. Don’t you think it’s time you contributed something?”
Tom’s grip tightened on the broom handle, “I do what I can, Paul.”
Paul snorted. “What can you do, huh? Clean floors? Pathetic.” He casually tilted his glass, letting the juice pour onto the floor. “Oops,” he said with fake innocence.
“Looks like you’ve got more work to do.”
Tom calmly watched as Paul stepped in the puddle, leaving sticky footprints as he walked downstairs.
Tom sighed, as he bent down to start cleaning the new mess, Aunt Margaret walked in with a sour expression. “Still scrubbing floors, Tom? It’s like you enjoy being on your knees.”
Tom took a deep breath. “Just doing my part, Aunt Margaret.”
She sniffed disdainfully. “Your part? Your part should be providing for my niece, getting her new bags and shoes, not acting like a housemaid. Malia deserves better than this.”
Tom’s hands shook with suppressed anger, but he kept his voice steady. “I’m trying my best.”
“Your best isn’t enough,” Aunt Margaret shot back.
“I’m not about to hear that same line over and over again today.” Tom mumbled as he continued scrubbing the floor.
“Huh!? What did you just say,” Aunt Margaret questioned.
Before Tom could respond, Malia’s junior sister, Riley, strolled in. She glanded around with a mocking grin. “Hey, Tom, how’s the cleaning going? Still pretending to be useful?”
Tom didn’t look up, he kept his focus on the task at hand. Riley moved over to the counter, where Tom had carefully arranged the dishes. She reached for the bread underneath the counter and took a bite.
“Uhm, that’s— my morning food,” Tom uttered.
“mmh, thank heavens you haven’t eaten off of it. It’s not contaminated by your trashiness yet,” Riley said.
“Looks like you missed a spot,” Riley said as she shook the bread in her hand, letting the bread crumbs scatter on the counter. Aunt Margaret passed by the large hallway facing the kitchen.
“Clean that up, would you?” She continued, laughing.
“Oh, Aunt Margaret, i thought you would be with uncle,” Riley noticed her and puts on a cute act,
“Well, I was on my way before I stumbled upon this trash of a Son-in-law,” Aunt Margaret said as she turned back to take a look at Tom.
She turned and made her way to the door, leaving Tom and Riley alone. Tom’s face was straight, with no sign of emotion.
Riley followed right after Aunt Margaret but stopped right in front of Tom.
“You’re a joke, Tom,” Riley said, stepping over the mess. “Everyone knows it. You’re just a charity case, here because of a promise. Don’t forget that.”
With that, Riley left the area. Tom remained on the floor.
“Take it easy, Tom,” He took a deep breath.
The silence in the room pressed in on him as he resumed cleaning. Tom straightened his back, determined to continue, even as the mistreatment and insults continued to erode his spirit.
Tom was on his knees, mopping the juice Paul had deliberately spilled. The sticky mess was proving stubborn.
The kitchen door swung open, and his Mother-in-law marched in, her eyes scanning the room critically. "What is this?" she snapped, her voice sharp. "You haven't even finished sweeping, and you're already mopping? Do you ever do anything right, Tom?"
“And why are there crumbs scattered on the counter? You were eating? when you haven’t finished cleaning!?” She continued
Tom looked up, with no emotion in his eyes, "Paul spilled his drink. I had to clean it up before it dried and got worse."
She shook her head with her expression full of contempt. "Excuses, always excuses. You can't even handle simple chores. How lazy can you be? Starting one job before finishing another. It’s always halfway with you."
Tom clenched his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check. "I’m just trying to keep up with everything, it’s not easy."
She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "Keep up? You can't even do that properly. You're a disgrace, Tom. My daughter deserves better than a man who can’t even finish sweeping."
“I don’t even know why you're still here, the only reason why my daughter married you was so she could claim her grandfather's wealth,” she smirked,
“But we were frogs in a well, who knew your family was just a drop in the ocean,” she laughed.
She took another step forward, and her foot landed on the wet patch of floor. In an instant, she slipped, her arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance. Tom reached out instinctively, but it was too late. She crashed to the ground with a thud, a gasp escaping her lips.
The sound of her screams alerted the mansion and everyone came out to see what was going on.
As they all walked into the hallway, Malia rushed out to see her mom on the floor. “Mom!” She screamed, running to her helpless mom.
“What happened mom?” Malia asked, her eyes filled with worry.
Tom’s Mother-in-law slowly raised her right arm, she stretched a finger and pointed at Tom.
“It was him,”
“He pushed me!” She screamed.
Tom’s Mother-in-law pointed a shaky finger at him. “You pushed me, Tom! I saw you!”Tom’s jaw dropped. “What? No, I didn’t! I wasn’t even near you!”His father-in-law stormed into the room, eyes blazing. “What’s this nonsense, Tom?” he roared. Without warning, he slapped Tom hard across the face.Malia, Tom’s wife, rushed in behind her father. “Dad, stop!” she cried, but then turned to Tom with tears in her eyes. “Tom, did you... did you really push her?”Tom looked at her, hurt and confused. “Malia, you know me! I’d never do that!”Paul, Malia’s brother, entered the room, glaring at Tom. “So now you’re calling our mother a liar?”A woman who seemed to be the head maid rushed out to help her up, “Are you okay Madame,” “I’m not calling anyone a liar. I’m just saying I didn’t push her,” Tom said as he waved his head trying to calm himself down.His eyes quickly caught the surveillance camera’s, “The camera’s, yes! Let’s check the cameras. They’ll show the truth.”Mrs. Evelyn cried out,
For two years, Zen had played the role of a dutiful husband, all while secretly working to change his brother’s biometrics to his own. The real Tom had died 2 years ago, and the current Tom is his twin brother, Zen Diel. Tom showed so much promise as the legitimate son but ended up amounting to nothing, his brother, Zen, was thrown to the battlefield at a young age and the only name he knew from then on was his status as God of War, the name that traumatized soldiers on the battlefield, “The Monarch of Death.”2 years ago, Zen was called back from the battlefield by his grandfather in order to save the name of their family by taking the place of his twin brother who was murdered on his way to visit the Diel manor.It was a long, risky game, but it had given him access to all the information he needed and the identity of Tom. He also saw 2 years of what his brother faced for so many years. Now, with the divorce finalized, Zen felt a sense of relief. He was free to start his real missi
Zen remained silent, his expression unchanged.Celeste turned her gaze to Keisha. “And you, Why would a security personnel be taking a beggar upstairs? Did the executives request to speak with the leaders of the beggars?,” Celeste laughed.Keisha didn't respond, simply pressing the button for their floor.As the elevator ascended, Celeste continued, “It’s a shame, really. You two look like you’re headed to a costume party. The theme must be 'downtrodden and desperate.'”“I don’t think it’s a good idea to attack these people who did nothing to you,” Anna said behind the big pile of files. “You! Shutup!,” Celeste roared.“How dare you talk back? Your on coffee duty for a week,” Celeste continued.The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Celeste strutted out, still smirking. “Good luck with your errands. Try not to embarrass yourselves too much.”As Celeste walked out, Anna slowed her pace right behind and turned with the pile of files , “I would bow right now but these files are t
The grand ballroom was alive with music and laughter. People danced under glittering chandeliers.Zen stood quietly in the party that Keisha convinced him to attend. He watched the scene with a calm expression. Nearby, a group of people were deep in discussion about recent changes in the city.“Have you heard?” a tall man with a beard leaned in, his voice excited. “The owner of mega has finally shown up in Mega.”A woman in a green dress raised her eyebrow. “I thought Willow was the owner.”“That’s not possible,” another man, younger and dressed in a sharp tuxedo, shook his head. “She never said she owned Mega. In fact, she’s always been clear that she’s just a spokesperson.”“In her words, the ‘CEO’ of mega” another voice added.A woman with red hair swirled her champagne. “Maybe she’s just the face. The real power might be someone we’ve never seen.”“Who could it be then?” the bearded man asked. “Who’s powerful enough to stay hidden all this time?”“I heard a rumor,” the younger ma
Zen woke up to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains of the elegant room. He stretched a bit as he got up."It was so dark last night I didn’t notice how nice this place was," he murmured to himself, running a hand over the plush bedding.“When was the last time I slept so comfortably?” He thought to himself.Just then, a soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Come in," Zen called, straightening up.Keisha stepped in, "Good morning, Zen. I hope you slept well."Zen nodded. "Better than I have in a while. This place is... different."Keisha smiled slightly, “it’s called luxury chief,” she said as she walked towards the table to take a sit.“Very funny,” Zen replied sarcastically as he dived into the bed more."I need to ask you something,” Keisha said.“Last night, at the party, why did you heal that man? It’s unlike you to step in like that."Zen shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. "I don’t know. I just felt like it."“Let’s
The woman didn’t respond immediately, but her eyes locked onto his with a calculating gaze. "Tom, I presume," she finally said, her voice smooth and deadly.Zen nodded. "And you are?""It’s not something you need to know when your on death’s door," she replied, drawing a knife from her belt. Zen sighed. "Why does it always have to be when I’m tired? Oh well, I was a bit bored anyway."The woman lunged at him, her movements were very precise and swift. Zen blocked her initial strike, countering with a quick jab to her wrist. The knife clattered to the ground, but she was unfazed, immediately launching a series of kicks aimed at his stomach.Zen blocked each one, his eyes never leaving hers. "You’re good," he said as he held her hand and twisted it.He cracked his neck and folded his arm in a boxing pose without moving an inch. “But I don’t have all day to play cat and dog,” He added.She grunted in pain but twisted free, spinning to face him again. "You’re not bad your—“Before she co
Cyrus and Zen arrived at Robert Leon’s house. The front door was opened by a lady.“Robert’s eldest daughter, Nia.” Cyrus informed Zen.“Mr. Cyrus, who’s this?” Nia asked, her eyes flicking over to Zen, who came with no briefcase or medical tools.“This is Tom, the practitioner I mentioned,” Cyrus replied, his tone respectful. “He’s the one who helped me with my issue.”Nia’s gaze softened slightly, but there was still a hint of skepticism. “Please come in. My father is in his room, but be warned, we have a team of doctors here who have been treating him.”As they entered, Cyrus led the way and they found Robert lying on a bed, looking pale and weary. Two doctors were scattered around the room, discussing treatment options.“Dr. Lee, Dr. Morris,” Cyrus greeted the doctors with a nod. “This is Tom. He’s here to see if he can help Robert.”Dr. Lee, a middle-aged man with a stern demeanor, raised an eyebrow as he noticed Zen pull an acupuncture kit out of his pocket. “I see we have a new
As Zen and Cyrus walked toward the door, the tension from the room lingered. Nia approached them suddenly.“Mr. Zen, wait,” Nia called out. “I want to apologize for Jane’s behavior. She was out of line. I’m grateful for what you did for my father.”“Can I get your contact, so I can call you to check on my dad once in a while?” Nia added.Zen paused, his expression still guarded. “Thank you, Nia. I understand the stress you’re under. However, I don’t think it’s wise for me to leave my contact information.”Nia looked taken aback. “Why not?”Zen glanced at Cyrus before responding. “I’d prefer not to be involved in situations where I’m met with hostility. Perhaps it’s best if we keep our interactions to a minimum.”Cyrus gave Nia a reassuring look. “I’m sorry for the trouble, Nia. I understand Tom’s point of view.”“Your keys,” Zen turned to Cyrus.Cyrus immediately puts his hands into his pockets, retrieving the key for Zen.With that, Zen walked out of the house, leaving Nia and Cyrus
The room hung in stunned silence, the air thick with disbelief. Yaya remained on his knees, his voice breaking as he groveled toward Zen. His head bowed so low it seemed he might sink into the marble floor. “Please, I’ll do anything!” Yaya’s words poured out like a flood, his hands trembling as they gripped the floor beneath him. “Just—just call them back. Restore my distribution channels. I can fix this! I’ll pay whatever you want!” Jun stared at his father, horror and confusion warring on his face. His voice came out sharp, cutting through the murmurs beginning to rise around the room. “Dad! What are you doing?” Jun took a step closer, grabbing Yaya by the arm. “Get up! Why are you kneeling to him?” Yaya barely turned, his eyes wild with desperation. “Let go of me, Jun! You don’t understand what’s happening here!” “I don’t understand?” Jun’s voice cracked as his confusion turned to anger. “You’re humiliating yourself! Him? He’s nothing! A useless son—” *SMACK!* Yaya’s ha
Zen's gaze remained steady as the man took another step closer, the condescension dripping from his tone. “Hey! Look!” Someone echoed. “That’s Mr. Yaya. Jun’s father. What’s he doing here?” Another voice echoed. “Do you even understand the weight of the people in this room, Tom?” Yaya’s voice was loud enough to draw more eyes to their corner. “Men who have built empires, shaped industries, and created legacies. And then there’s you—scraping by, pretending to fit into a world you clearly don’t belong to.” Rosalia, her frustration evident, stepped forward again. “Mr. Yaya, this is getting out of hand. You have no right—” “Stay out of it, Mrs. Rosalia,” Yaya snapped, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand the stakes here. This is about respect, and this boy has none.” Jun smirked as he pushed his uncle’s hands off himself, crossing his arms as he looked Zen up and down. “He doesn’t just lack respect, Father—he lacks everything. Power, influence, wealth. What does he have? A
Zen turned slowly, his eyes locking onto the man who had called out. His tone was sharp and mocking, cutting through the air like a whip. The man was tall, his stance brimming with arrogance as he squared his shoulders and stepped forward. Rosalia’s smile faltered, and she instinctively stood from her chair. “Jun, what are you doing?” Jun ignored her, his eyes focused entirely on Zen. “I’m asking what right he has to be sitting here with you.” Zen’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his gaze. He stayed calm, leaning slightly on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out for Rosalia. “And who are you to decide that?” Jun scoffed, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. “Who am I? That’s rich coming from someone like you. Do you even know where you are? Do you have any idea the kind of people in this room?” “I’m well aware,” Zen said evenly, his voice low but commanding. “Now, why don’t you explain why this concerns you?” Jun’s hand clenched i
Zen turned slightly, scanning the crowd. His eyes landed on Rosalia, who stood a few feet away, her soft smile aimed directly at him. She looked stunning, her emerald-green gown flowing gracefully as she approached him. "Tom," she said, her voice warm and teasing, "I thought I’d never get through that sea of people to find you." “Rosalia,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” She gave a small laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You could say that, though I don’t think ‘enjoying’ is the right word. Awkwardly surviving? Maybe.” Zen arched a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Awkward, huh? What’s awkward about mingling with a bunch of over-dressed people waiting to make power plays?” Rosalia rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “You’re forgetting the forced smiles, empty compliments, and the undercurrent of judgment in every conversation. It’s exhausting.” Zen chuckled softly, tilting his head
On the day of the gala, the Albrecht Estate was alive with energy. Cars lined up in a procession at the gates, with chauffeurs stepping out to open doors for the city’s elite. Inside the sprawling ballroom, the hum of conversation was only interrupted by the occasional clink of glasses or bursts of laughter. Waiters moved swiftly through the crowd, trays balanced, while the soft melody of a live quartet filled the air.Zen’s car pulled into the driveway, sleek and understated compared to the flashy limousines that preceded it. As he stepped out, two young attendants rushed forward. “Mr. Diel,” one said, bowing slightly. “Welcome to the gala. Let us guide you inside.” Zen adjusted his cuffs and gave a curt nod. “Lead the way.” The attendants escorted him through the grand entrance, where the doors opened to reveal the glittering scene inside. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood, every detail carefully curated to impress. Zen’s gaze scanned the room
Zen’s eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through the window. He turned his head and spotted Keisha, sitting across the room with her arms folded, watching him with a casual smile. Her presence caught him off guard.“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said with a smirk.Zen blinked, then let out a sigh, rolling onto his back. “I overslept,” he muttered, a bit annoyed with himself. “Not like me at all.”Keisha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Even the mighty Zen has his off days, it seems.”Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, then looked at her with suspicion. “How did you get in here? I lock my doors every night.”She held up a shiny key, dangling it between her fingers with a playful grin. “Spare key. Thought you’d remember I keep one.”Zen sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Of course you do.” He ran a hand through his hair, then fixed her with a curious stare. “Since you’re here, Keisha… explain your schedule to me.”Keisha blinked, clearly t
The night was cool and crisp as Zen stepped onto the deck of his yacht, taking in the gentle sway of the water beneath him. The lights from the city reflected off the waves, casting shimmering patterns on the boat. Just ahead, leaning against the railing with a glass in hand, Sinclair turned, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted Zen approaching. “Thought you’d never make it,” Sinclair teased, raising his glass in greeting. Zen smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.” He looked around, taking in the luxurious setup. “But tell me, when are you finally going to get your own yacht, Sinclair? This ‘borrowing’ act is getting old.” Sinclair laughed, an easy, carefree sound. “Who says I don’t have my own?” he replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “In fact, I have more yachts than a three-year-old can count. I just happen to like *this* one the best.” Zen raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “So, you’re telling
Zen’s gaze locked onto Silas, his expression calm but his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. “So, this is how you like to handle things? Thought you’d finally stand up to someone, Silas?”Silas sneered, but there was a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You think you’re something cause you managed to pull a fast on me with pure luck—”Zen’s smirk widened. “I think we both know luck had nothing to do with it.” He took a step closer, hands relaxed at his sides, his presence radiating an authority that made everyone in the room hold their breath.“Stay back,” Silas snapped, his voice wavering as he tried to maintain his composure.Zen chuckled softly. “Oh, now you’re worried?”Silas glared, but his posture had shifted, more defensive than before. He glanced around, seeking support, but the others kept their eyes on the floor, unwilling to meet Zen’s gaze.“I don’t have time to play with you, Silas,” Zen murmured, his tone almost bored. “But maybe a quick reminder wouldn’t hurt.”He mov
“Tom!” Nia called out, drawing his attention, her voice sounding urgent. She didn’t even glance at Rosalia, who was standing beside him, her eyes fixed solely on Zen.Zen looked up, surprised to see her approaching. “Nia?” he asked, standing as she reached their table. “What happened?”Nia huffed, folding her arms across her chest as she tilted her head, clearly savoring the moment to vent. “You won’t believe what just happened,” she began, her tone laced with annoyance as she jerked her thumb back toward a waiter who was lingering nervously by the kitchen entrance, clearly aware he was in trouble. “That waiter back there? He decided to make a judgment call on my financial status. Apparently, my card didn’t go through, and he assumed I couldn’t pay.” She paused, letting out a short, sarcastic laugh. “He even suggested I… ‘pay’ another way. Like I’d be desperate enough to trade favors for dinner.”Zen’s face shifted from mild surprise to something much darker, his jaw tightening as he