The Return Of The Heir: Jef Arbuzar's Redemption

"Wash my feet properly!!!"

In the large marble-floored room, Jef sat at the feet of his wife, Syarla Devaki, holding a basin of warm water. His rough, tired hands began to gently wipe Syarla's feet, following the instructions he had memorised. His wife, meanwhile, sat in the makeup chair with her mobile phone in hand, scrolling through social media while occasionally laughing softly.

Several other servants were busy doing Syarla's hair and make-up, making the room feel even more lively.

"Bring me a comb!"

"Bring nail art, please!"

"Be careful not to tangle Miss Syarla's hair."

Even so, in the midst of the crowd, Jef felt an eerie silence, as if he was isolated in a place that was supposed to be his home.

"Ouch, Jef! What are you doing? The water's too hot!" Syarla's loud voice broke the silence.

Jef was startled, immediately pulling back his hand that was washing Syarla's feet.

"I've told you many times that the water should be warm, not hot! What's so hard about listening?" complained Syarla.

The servants dressing Syarla chuckled, exchanging glances with mocking smiles. One of them, a woman with her hair in pigtails, shook her head as she said, "You poor servant. Given an easy job and still making mistakes."

Jef bowed his head. His hands trembled slightly as he touched the water in the basin again, trying to compose himself. "Sorry, the water may have been heated too long," he said quietly, trying his best not to show the emotions raging inside him.

Syarla sighed loudly, then shot him a glare. "You are so unreliable. Do I have to take care of every little thing? If it wasn't for this marriage contract, I wouldn't have bothered with you."

Another servant, who had been polishing Syarla's toenails, added scornfully, "That's right, Miss Syarla. Who would want a poor bloke like him? It's a good thing Miss Syarla is kind."

Jef bit his lip, feeling every word of derision like a needle piercing his heart. He knew full well his position here, as an unwanted contract husband. Yet, every insult he received still hurt, reminding him of how inferior he was in the eyes of these people.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you how to heat water properly?" Syarla's voice snapped Jef out of his thoughts.

Jef fell silent. His wife's words seemed to insult him that Jef had been living alone without parental love.

"Oops, sorry! I forgot, you've been relying on your grandfather and the orphanage where you were born," said Syarla.

Jef swallowed, trying to hold back the tears that were about to spill over. He raised his head slightly, looking at Syarla with tired eyes. "I'm sorry, Syarla. I'll be more careful next time."

Syarla raised her eyebrows and chuckled, then refocused on her mobile phone, as if nothing Jef said mattered. "Well, I hope so. I'm tired of taking care of things that you should be able to do yourself."

Jef continued his task, now with a noticeably heavier hand. Every word and laugh he heard made him feel smaller, as if he was a nobody in this world. In his heart, he could only pray that this day would pass soon, even though he knew tomorrow would probably be the same.

This routine full of insults and ridicule seemed to be an integral part of her life. However, for the sake of his ailing grandfather, Jef knew he had to persevere, trying to stay strong despite his broken heart.

After washing Syarla's feet, Jef stood up slowly. He carried a basin of warm water into the kitchen, poured it out, and placed the basin in the corner of the kitchen with an upset heart.

However, when his eyes fell on the wall clock that showed seven in the morning, he immediately remembered that he had to go to work immediately. Quickly, Jef ran to his room to change his clothes.

Just as he was putting on his work uniform, he heard the voice of his father-in-law, David Devaki, calling him from the living room.

"Jef! Don't forget your hat!" The voice was full of disdain.

Jef stopped his steps, turned around, and headed to the living room quickly. David stood there, watching with a cold stare. Jef picked up the hat with the logo of David's culinary company, which lay on the table.

David glanced at the hat sarcastically. "Ah, really no talent. You never understood how to work properly. That hat is very important for the restaurant's image."

Jef tried to hold back his embarrassment, then put on the hat. "Sorry for my negligence, sir."

David came closer and looked Jef up and down. "You know, Jef, don't ever think that I would consider you as a legitimate son-in-law. You're just a waiter at the restaurant, nothing more than that."

Jef bit his lip, feeling the pain in his heart. "I understand, sir."

David smiled wryly. "Of course you understand. We all know that this marriage is just a contractual arrangement. Syarla married you to avoid an arranged marriage scandal. If not for that, who would marry a poor man like you?"

Jef bowed his head, trying to compose himself.

David raised his eyebrows. "Hope you don't get your hopes up too much, Jef. You're probably just a waiter in our restaurant, and that's your place. Nothing more, nothing less. Don't you dream!"

David continued to watch Jef with a mocking gaze. "You better hurry up and get to the restaurant. Don't let our reputation be tainted just because of you. Remember, you're just a waiter, and your job is to look after yourself so that no mistakes are made."

Jef nodded, holding back his anger. "I'll be going now."

As Jef turned to leave the house, David called out to him once again. "Jef!"

Jef stopped and turned around. "Yes, sir?"

David grinned. "Don't expect much. You'll never reach the level we have. Always remember your position, waiter. It's the most appropriate place for someone like you."

Jef swallowed, then stepped out of the house feeling annoyed. Every word David said felt like a stab in his heart. However, he had to stay focused on his goal-working hard at the restaurant to earn money for his grandfather's treatment.

Despite the insults and humiliation, Jef knew that he had to endure for now, trying his best while hoping that there would be a day when everything would change.

At the restaurant where Jef worked, the place was filled with important guests. Jef was carrying a tray of freshly squeezed juices, trying his best to serve them. However, in the middle of the crowd, his hand slipped and the juice spilled onto the coat of an important guest, Vigi.

Vigi was a 29-year-old man, an investor who had been invited by David Devaki. He shouted angrily as soon as his shirt was hit by the juice. "Hey! What are you doing? It's a designer suit, it's very expensive!"

Jef was shocked and immediately panicked. "I'm sorry, sir! I didn't do it on purpose. I'll clean it up immediately."

Vigi glared angrily. "Sorry? Do you know how much this suit cost? And you think your apology can replace my suit?"

One of the other waiters stood beside Jef with a worried look on his face.

Vigi ignored them and continued to stare at Jef with a look full of contempt. His eyes glanced at the small nameplate "Jef Nicholas, which was attached to the left side of the waiter's shirt. Look at you. You're just a poor servant who knows nothing about etiquette and manners. You think you're worthy of serving important people like us?"

Jef bowed his head, his face flushed. "I'm really sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Vigi didn't show the slightest sympathy. "You know, everyone here knows how low status employees are. You don't deserve to be here."

The other guests began to glance and whisper, making Jef feel even more depressed.

Jef was embarrassed and devastated, knowing that everyone around him looked down on him. "Once again, sir, I am very sorry for this incident. I will clean your suit immediately."

Vigi ignored Jef's apology and simply said in a sarcastic tone, "Don't let this happen again. You're just a waiter. And don't ever think that you can be more than that."

Jef felt his heart breaking. He bowed his head as he picked up the bucket and began to mop the floor that was dirty from the spilt juice.

This time he worked carefully, trying to complete the task as quickly as possible. As Jef was busy moving the bucket to reach the harder-to-reach areas, two men dressed all in black with black hats sat down near him.

"Don't worry, young master. We're with you." said one of them.

Inside the restaurant's eerily quiet kitchen, Jef stood in front of a pile of dishes that didn't seem to diminish. Soap suds clung to his hands that were already wrinkled with water.

He let out a long sigh, wiping away the sweat running down his forehead. Moving his hands, which were getting slower and slower due to fatigue, Jef tried to finish his work.

The last of the glasses and plates were washed, stacked neatly on the drying rack. His thoughts drifted home, remembering Syarla and David's inhumane treatment.

Suddenly, there was a noise from the dining room. Jef peeked through the kitchen door and saw his boss, speaking in high tones to the staff.

"Everyone come here! There's a big problem! One of our important guests' wallet is missing!" The HRD swept his gaze across the room, his eyes sharp like a hawk stalking prey.

"I'll check all of your bags,"

Jef had never been involved in anything like this, but the situation shocked him. He himself had never thought let alone imagined being a thief.

One by one, employees handed over their bags for inspection. When it was Jef's turn, the HRD looked at him with a suspicious look. "Jef, take out your bag," she ordered sternly.

Jef handed over his bag.

The men opened the bag and removed the contents. Among Jef's personal belongings, a brown leather wallet was found. "Here's the wallet!" the officer exclaimed as he held up the wallet.

All eyes were on Jef, who was surprised to see the wallet. "I... I don't know how it got there. I didn't steal it. Someone must have put the wallet in my bag," said Jef in a stammering voice.

Unfortunately, the owner of the wallet was Vigi. He approached Jef with a red face. "So this is how a waiter earns money? Stealing other people's stuff? You poor, ignorant bastard!"

The people around began to murmur, more and more voices cursing Jef.

Vigi continued, "You think by stealing my wallet you can improve your life? You're nothing more than trash!"

His words pierced Jef's heart, leaving him speechless in mingled shame and anger.

The situation escalated when several people including the waiters and kitchen staff, started pushing Jef. "Come on, get out of here, you thief!" a waiter shouted hatefully.

Jef tried to back away, trying to explain himself, but the voices grew louder and more derisive.

Suddenly, the two men who had called Jef 'young master' earlier approached him again. But, surprisingly, they joined in on the beating.

Jef fell down, his face bruised and his body aching. He couldn't understand why they had betrayed him.

In the midst of the commotion, the HRD finally broke it up, but in a sarcastic tone. "That's it, that's it, that's enough. Let her go. People like him don't deserve our attention."

Bruised and shattered, Jef walked out of the restaurant. He stopped by the roadside, trying to keep himself from collapsing. His vision began to blur, his body shaking with pain.

Suddenly, several men approached him.

"Who are you guys?" Jef tried to ask, his voice weak.

The men didn't answer, just exchanged glances and then lifted Jef's body.

Jef tried to fight back, but his strength was gone. "Let me go!" he shouted, but his voice was barely audible.

They forced him into a shiny black car. Jef could only watch the car door close before his consciousness completely disappeared.

*

When Jef woke up, he found himself on a very soft mattress. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to gather his senses.

The room around him was luxurious, with marble walls, crystal chandeliers, and classically designed furniture that looked very expensive. Beside the bed he was lying on, sat a man with a very dashing appearance.

He had a stern face, neatly combed shiny black hair, and wore an elegant black suit that conveyed authority and charisma. He looked at Jef with a calm gaze, as if he already knew everything.

Jef tried to get up, but his body still felt weak. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

The man smiled slightly, but didn't answer right away. He simply picked up a glass of water from the side table and handed it to Jef.

"Drink first," he said in a calm, authoritative voice.

Jef hesitated, but then accepted the glass and took a sip.

After a few seconds, the man continued, "You're safe here. No need to worry."

Jef was still confused and suspicious. "Who are you?" he asked in a slightly rude tone.

The man chuckled, then stood up and walked towards the large window that showed a view of the city. He stared out, as if thinking of something much bigger.

"I'm... someone who wants to help you, Jef," the man replied finally, still looking out. "There are many things you must know, and many things to explain. But for now, you must rest."

Jef felt even more confused "Why do you want to help me? I don't understand. And how do you know my name?"

The man turned around, looking at Jef. "I know more than you think. Trust me, everything will be revealed in due time. Rest first, you need the energy to face what's to come."

Jef felt that was not the answer to his question. He forced himself to get out of bed, despite his limp body.

"Mr Randy," called one of the bodyguards.

Sure enough the man turned round.

"Randy? Who the hell are you?" asked Jef with a slight snarl.

The dashing man sitting beside the bed, along with several bodyguards, moved closer. "You can't leave here," said the man in a stern tone.

The bodyguards also stood at attention, blocking Jef's steps.

Jef looked at them with determined eyes. "Who are you people? Who do you think I am? I'm not one of you. I have to go. My wife and in-laws are waiting." he said.

Jef knew that the real reason he wanted to go back was because Syarla and David were his running atm. Without them, he could not pay for his grandfather's treatment. However, Jef did not say it directly.

Randy, the dashing man, looked at Jef with a serious gaze. "You may be a nobody now, but you are the heir of the Arbuzar family," he said calmly but meaningfully.

Jef fell silent, even more confused after hearing that statement. He felt as if he was trapped in a strange dream.

"What do you mean, heir? I don't understand," Jef asked in a confused and sceptical tone.

Randy leaned closer, a serious look on his face. "You have a birthmark on your back, don't you? It's shaped like a crescent moon,"

Jef was surprised. The birthmark was very rare and only a few people had it. He had never told anyone about it. "How did you know?" he asked in a curious tone.

Randy smiled slightly. "We've investigated your background, Jef. We know you were raised in an orphanage as a child, and your date of birth matches my nephew who went missing years ago. We've also checked your blood sample, and it matches the Arbuzar family perfectly. We've been monitoring you for the past four years. This is no coincidence."

Randy continued his conversation calmly. "I'm Randy Arbuzar. I'm your uncle. I ordered my bodyguards to monitor you and bring you here. Because you are a descendant of the Arbuzar family, and we finally found you. The world is going to change for you, Jef."

"Is this a joke?" said Jef.

Everyone was silent at Jef's words.

"How could you fool me. And how can a man like me be your nephew. I'm just an ordinary guy, nothing more than that," Jef continued.

Randy pulled out Jef's DNA test file and birth certificate. Not only that, there was also Jef's childhood photo and birthmark.

Looking at the file, Jef's eyes did not blink.

"You still don't believe me?" asked Randy as he watched his nephew's reaction.

Jef was silent, trying to digest all the information he had just received. His mind was spinning, remembering his past and everything he had experienced. Did he really come from a rich family?

After hearing Randy's confession and reflecting on what had just unfolded, Jef realised that last night's events had been long and full of surprises. He looked out the window and saw that the sun was already rising, signalling that a new day had begun.

He decided to head back to his in-laws' house. There were tasks that still needed to be completed, and although his new identity as the heir to the Arbuzar family had just been revealed, his contractual agreement had not yet expired.

Randy, who had found his nephew, was relieved though also a little anxious. "I won't stop you," he said, making room for Jef to leave. "But know that I'll always be watching and looking out for you. You are free to do what you want, but remember who you are."

Jef nodded, understanding what his uncle meant. He felt cared for, though he still felt strange about all this.

With his wounds still sore, his hands bandaged, and his forehead still bruised, Jef left the place and headed for his in-laws' house.

Once he arrived at the front of his in-laws' house, he was greeted in an inhumane manner. Syarla, his wife, stood at the door with an angry face. Without warning, she threw a bag of dirty clothes at Jef. "Where have you been? Just coming home now?" she exclaimed in an angry tone.

But before Jef could answer, David showed up with an angry face.

"I know what you did, Jef," David said in an accusatory tone. "You're a thief! You don't belong in this house."

Syarla looked confused and asked her father for an explanation. "What does he mean? A thief?"

David snorted, then explained, "Jef stole Vigi's wallet last night. You know what that means? He must be planning to use that money for inappropriate things. Seeking pleasure in perverse ways." Her voice was full of contempt and hatred.

As usual Jef just looked down, silent in defeat, while thinking about what to do next.

Syarla, still angry and upset, looked at Jef with a hateful gaze. "Wash your clothes now!" she ordered in an equally harsh tone.

Jef simply nodded, walking towards the bathroom with heavy steps. He knew that for now, the only option he had was to wait for the right time to reveal the truth.

"Heir to a wealthy family, but a maid in the in-laws' house."

As he washed the dirty clothes, his mind kept spinning to find a way out of this situation. Despite feeling cornered and unfairly treated, Jef decided to stay calm and complete his task, while preparing himself for whatever was to come.

After doing the laundry and preparing Syarla's clothes that would not be worn for today's performance, Jef found an envelope from the hospital where his grandfather was admitted.

"An envelope from the hospital," Jef said.

He felt the need to open it, as anything related to his grandfather's health was a priority. When the envelope was opened, Jef read the contents quickly and his face contorted. As it turned out, the letter contained a notice that the payment for his grandfather's treatment was late, and as a result, his grandfather's condition had deteriorated due to late medical treatment.

Full of burning emotion, Jef immediately went in search of Syarla. He found her in the living room, sitting casually playing with her mobile phone. "Why is my grandfather's medical payment so late?" he asked in a serious tone.

Syarla looked at him for a moment, then replied nonchalantly, "Late or not, it won't prolong your grandfather's life. We all know that."

Jef felt his blood boil, but he refrained from letting his emotions out. He clenched his fists and took deep breaths, trying to contain his emotions.

Meanwhile, Syarla was guiltlessly lost in her own world, as if what she had just said was not important.

Not satisfied with Syarla's answer, Jef walked quickly to the terrace, where he found David sitting casually reading the newspaper.

Jef threw the envelope of the hospital letter at David.

David glanced at what Jef was doing and put the newspaper down.

"Why is my grandfather's payment so late? What did I do wrong to make you treat me like this?" Jef demanded an explanation from his father-in-law.

David stood up as he folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. "Who are you, Jef? And who is your grandfather? This marriage is just about a contract, nothing more than that. If you want to earn your own money, go ahead. It will reduce the burden I have to bear while you live here."

Jef was transfixed by these words. A sense of disappointment and anger overcame him.

David continued in a dismissive tone, "Your grandfather won't recover, especially with a contract marriage like this. You think you can save him? It's a waste."

Jef glanced at the man sarcastically. Until finally Jef turned around and left David without another word. At a crucial time like this they still had time to insult him.

"They're not human. They're beasts that always eat my heart."

After leaving the house, Jef felt a sense of urgency. He walked with the aim of seeking a loan for his grandfather's medical expenses.

Until he forgot that his identity was that of an heir, not a poor man as people thought.

Pressured by the gravity of the situation, Jef walked out of the gate of his in-laws' house. However, as he exited, he noticed something unusual. A man who looked like a beggar was sitting by the roadside. Jef takes a closer look and realises that the man is wearing the same necklace worn by his uncle Randy's bodyguard.

Noticing something strange, Jef approached the man. "What are you doing here?" he asked curiously.

The man looked around carefully, then replied, "We're here to keep an eye on you, Young Master. Our job is to ensure your safety."

"Uncle Randy ordered you here?"

The bodyguard nodded and explained, "We're just carrying out orders from Mr Randy. He wants to make sure you are safe. If there's anything you need, you just need to tell us."

It just so happened that Jef needed help from his uncle. He then said, "I need money for my grandfather's treatment. Can you guys arrange a meeting with my uncle? I need to talk to him."

The bodyguard immediately nodded his head. They arranged a meeting at a place that Randy and his men often used.

When Jef arrived at the location, he was greeted by Randy and a few others.

"Jef, what's going on? You said you needed money, is that right?" Randy asked, looking confused.

Jef sighed and explained, "That's right. My grandfather is sick and needs treatment. I entered into a contract marriage to pay for his treatment. But now, the fees are overdue."

Randy frowned. "What did you say, Grandpa? Which Grandpa?"

Jef was silent for a moment, then answered, "The grandfather who took care of me when I was a child. He adopted me from the orphanage and always supported me even though he didn't have much money."

Randy shook his head. "Jef, the grandfather you are referring to is not your biological grandfather."

Jef opened his eyes wide. "But he's been with me since I was little. He loved me very much. How can you say that he's not my real grandfather?"

"But that's the truth. He's not your biological grandfather," Randy said. He also couldn't understand how his nephew could fight for someone who was not related to the Arbuzar family.

Jef was devastated, realizing that the person he had thought of as his grandfather all along was not his biological grandfather. "So, who is my real grandfather?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Randy looked at Jef with sympathetic eyes. "Your real grandfather is alive, but he's in danger. He's being held captive by enemies who are trying to take over our family fortune," Randy said.

"WHAT!" Jef was shocked.

"Yes Jef, your grandfather is alive. His name is Arbuzar," Randy explained.

"Who would kidnap my grandfather. What enemy would dare to do such a lowly thing!"

"Jef, we don't have time to be angry. Now is the time to act," said Randy while holding Jef's shoulder.

Jef nodded his head.

Randy added, "Don't worry about your fake grandfather's medication. I'll take care of it. Focus on our mission to find your real grandfather."

"I promise uncle! I'll save grandpa," said Jef confidently.