Chapter 1 Hurt

James clenched his fists, his gaze fixed on the floor. "You took every penny," he whispered, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. "That money was for my sister's medical bills, Helen."

Helen Shaw scoffed, folding her arms with a look of complete disdain. "That money was wasted on a useless fool like you. My son deserves a proper wedding, and you don't deserve to be part of this family. You're pathetic."

James swallowed hard, his mind spinning with the weight of her words. For three years, I've tried to make this work, to be what they expect, but no matter what I do, it's never enough. He fought the urge to retaliate, knowing it would only worsen things.

Pamela stood silently behind her mother, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "Mom... maybe he just... Maybe James needs a break."

"Pamela, don't defend him," Helen snapped, her voice icy. "He's failed you. Failed everyone. I've told him a hundred times to leave you. He's nothing but a leech."

James felt his chest tighten as he glanced at his wife. "Pamela, do you think that too?" he asked, almost pleading.

She looked away, saying nothing, and in that silence, James heard his answer.

"See?" Helen laughed, nudging Pamela. "Even your own wife can't defend you. Why don't you just give up already? Divorce her, leave, and stop embarrassing us."

Defeated, James turned to George Shaw, who had been observing in stony silence. "George... surely, you understand. My sister's hurt-she needs help."

George's indifferent gaze remained unchanged. "If you can't handle your family's problems, you shouldn't be part of ours."

A mix of anger and helplessness welled up within him, but he forced it down. Why am I even trying to reason with them? To them, I'm just a means to clear their debts-a tool they're done with. He turned on his heel and left the house, his heart heavy with bitterness.

Later, at the construction site, James approached his foreman, Ray Walters, who was chatting and laughing with a few other workers. As James cleared his throat, Ray gave him a sneer.

"Ah, look who it is-the husband of the mighty Shaw family princess," Ray mocked, crossing his arms. "What do you want, Carter?"

"I'm here for my wages, Ray. You've been holding them back for weeks now," James said, trying to keep his tone steady.

Ray chuckled. "Your wages, huh? You've been slacking lately, Carter. Hardly worth what I've been paying."

James's patience was running thin. "I've worked every hour you asked for. You owe me."

Ray's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in with a sneer. "Maybe you should put that wife of yours to good use, huh? Wouldn't take long to make what you're begging for here."

A surge of fury coursed through James, and before he could think, he grabbed Ray by the collar. "Don't you dare bring her into this," he growled.

In a heartbeat, Ray shoved him back, and within moments, the other workers piled on. James felt punches, kicks, and the impact of the ground as he was beaten down, his pride crushed alongside his body. When they finally left him lying there, Ray spat on the ground near him. "Next time, know your place."

James struggled to sit up, his body throbbing with pain. How much more of this can I take? Everywhere I turn, it's nothing but mockery and betrayal. For years, I've been nothing but a pawn in someone else's game. His mind drifted to his sister in the hospital, clinging to life because he couldn't afford better care.

Maybe they're right. Maybe I am worthless.

The thought lingered, growing heavier as he considered his options. His savings had been drained, his family held him in contempt, and he'd been stripped of every shred of dignity. For a brief moment, an unsettling thought crossed his mind-a way to end it all and leave something behind for his sister.

Hours later, as the sun began to set, James found himself wandering back to the construction site. The steel beams towered above him, stark and cold against the darkening sky. He stood on the edge, peering over, his heart racing.

If this is the only way to provide for her... he thought, swallowing hard.

But just as he steadied himself, the rumble of a car engine pulled him back to reality. A sleek black Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop nearby, and a sharply dressed man stepped out, looking straight at him.

"Mr. Carter?" the man addressed him with a slight bow.

James blinked in confusion, stepping away from the edge. "Who... Who are you?"

The man smiled, his demeanor calm but commanding. "I'm here on behalf of your father, David Smith. There's something I believe you should know."

James stared at the man, a sense of disbelief washing over him. My father? But he... His heart thudded with a mix of hope and apprehension as he stepped forward.

"Please," the man continued, gesturing to the car. "I think it's time you learned the truth."