THE SON IN LAW WANTS HIS REVENGE

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."

James tried to process the shock as he faced Victor in the grand, opulent office.

"So... you're telling me my father, the man who couldn't afford hospital bills, was secretly a billionaire?" James's voice was thick with disbelief.

Victor nodded, his gaze steady. "Not just a billionaire, James. He built Maple Group, one of the largest conglomerates in the country. And as of today, it's all yours."

James laughed bitterly. "This feels like some kind of joke. Why would he keep this hidden from us?"

Victor's expression softened. "David was a man of many secrets, but he wanted you to inherit everything once you were ready. Today is that day."

James shook his head, struggling to understand. "So... my sister? Her medical expenses?"

Victor leaned forward. "Taken care of. A private team is with her as we speak."

James exhaled slowly, relief flooding him. "Thank you... I mean, thank you for everything. But I just... I don't understand why my father would let us live like that."

Victor studied him for a moment. "Maybe he wanted you to grow strong without relying on wealth. Whatever the reason, he trusted you with this."

James blinked, still trying to absorb the news. "And the money... you said there was an account?"

Victor handed him a sleek tablet. "Check it yourself."

James entered his details, his breath catching as the balance popped up. "$160 million..."

"Consider it a start," Victor said calmly.

"A start?" James's voice was barely a whisper. He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. "Thank you, Victor. I mean it. This changes... everything."

Victor gave a slight smile. "It's your legacy, James. Make the most of it."

At the hospital, James sat beside Emily's bed, watching her as she lay asleep, a peaceful contrast to the pain that had haunted her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more before," he murmured, gently squeezing her hand. "But from now on, everything will be different. I'll protect you, Emily. I swear."

He thought back to the accident, his chest tightening with anger. He now knew who was behind it-Tom Mason, the wealthy playboy who'd walked away scot-free.

James clenched his fists. "I won't let him get away with it," he muttered. "He's going to pay for what he did to you."

The memory of Victor's words echoed in his mind: Tom Mason might be powerful, but he's not invincible.

"Not anymore," James vowed under his breath. He knew what he had to do.

Just then, his phone buzzed. He frowned, surprised to see a voice message from Pamela.

"Hey... I transferred fifty thousand to your account. Don't ask why. Just... use it for whatever you need," she said, her tone unexpectedly gentle.

James couldn't help but smile. Pamela, who always seemed distant, had gone out of her way to help. Maybe there was still some kindness in her after all.

An idea formed. "Time to show some appreciation."

He found himself at the city's most luxurious jewelry store, eyes fixed on a dazzling necklace in the display case.

The sales assistant beamed. "This is 'Eternal Love.' One of a kind. $800,000."

Without a second thought, James nodded. "I'll take it."

As he arrived home, a black Mercedes parked out front caught his eye. His stomach twisted when he recognized it.

"Tom," he muttered, a surge of anger rising within him.

Taking a steadying breath, he clenched his fists. It's time to settle things, once and for all.

James paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. Tom sat on the leather couch, laughing and talking with his in-laws, a glass of expensive wine in hand and a smug grin plastered on his face. James's jaw tightened.

Helen glanced up, her eyes narrowing. "Look who finally decided to join us," she sneered. "James, maybe take some notes from Tom here on how to be a real provider."

George chuckled. "Maybe if you learned to be a man, we wouldn't have to entertain better options for Pamela."

James ignored them, his gaze fixed on Tom. "Interesting choice of company, Tom."

Tom raised his glass, feigning surprise. "James! Always a pleasure."

"Is it?" James replied, his tone ice-cold. His eyes flicked to the lavish gifts spread across the table: vintage wine, a designer handbag, and a diamond necklace.

Helen clapped her hands. "Oh, look at what Tom brought! Real gifts, not the cheap things you get for Pamela."

Tom leaned toward Pamela, placing the necklace in her lap. "This would look stunning on you, Pamela. Only the best for the best." He winked, his hand lingering just a bit too long on her shoulder.

Pamela shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. "Tom, I... I don't think-"

"Oh, don't be shy, darling," Helen interrupted, patting her hand. "After all, Tom is a real catch. Wouldn't hurt to give him a chance."

James gritted his teeth, but his voice was steady. "You know, Tom, you're quite generous for someone who can't seem to own up to his mistakes."

Tom's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly, chuckling. "Mistakes? Sounds like someone's desperate."

Helen sneered. "James, stop embarrassing yourself. Tom's obviously leagues above you."

George nodded, sipping his wine. "If you cared about Pamela, you'd step aside and let her be with someone worthy of her."

James ignored their taunts, keeping his gaze locked on Tom. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Tom. The hit-and-run."

Tom's smirk faded. "Accusing me now? Pathetic."

James pulled out his phone. "Pathetic? Let's take a look." He pressed play, and the screen displayed footage of a black Mercedes S600, speeding down the street and hitting his sister, then driving off.

Helen scoffed. "That could be anyone's car, James. Honestly, you're reaching."

Tom forced a laugh, but his face had paled slightly. "See, even Helen understands. There are hundreds of black Mercedes S600s. You're just trying to slander me."

James raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Oh, I thought you might say that." He swiped through the photos on his phone, enlarging a close-up still from the video, showing Tom's face clearly through the windshield at the moment of impact.

Pamela gasped, eyes wide. "Tom... that's you..."

Tom stammered, looking from James to the screen. "This is a setup! This is blackmail!"

George jumped to Tom's defense, his tone furious. "Enough of your nonsense, James. This is just an attempt to cover your own failures!"

James kept his voice steady, addressing Pamela directly. "Pamela, I know things have been tense between us, but you need to know the truth. I won't stand by and let the man who nearly killed Emily walk free."

Pamela glanced between James and Tom, her expression conflicted. "James, I... I didn't think you were capable of making up lies like this, but..." She stared at Tom. "Tom, what's going on?"

Tom cleared his throat, managing a feeble smile. "Pamela, don't tell me you believe him. He's just grasping at straws. Besides, you know what people say about James-he's been down on his luck for years. He's just trying to blame someone for it."

James took a step forward, his voice firm. "This isn't about luck, Tom. It's about justice for Emily. You left her there, in pain, and now you're here, acting like a hero? You can't talk your way out of this."

Tom's gaze flickered, his confidence cracking. He looked away, avoiding the eyes now fixed on him.

Pamela's voice was quiet but laced with steel. "I never knew you were capable of something like this, Tom. Emily could have died."

Helen sputtered, her confidence faltering. "Pamela, darling, don't be dramatic. Tom made a mistake, but James is just blowing it out of proportion."

Pamela straightened, her eyes filled with a newfound resolve. "No, Mother. James is standing up for Emily. And maybe... maybe I need to start standing up for him."

A silence fell over the room, each person processing the weight of what had just unfolded.