The expensive suit Brian wore didn't fit. It was a secondhand tux Jason had tossed him—something from years ago that had been forgotten in the closet. The sleeves were too short, the collar too tight. But Brian said nothing. He stood still as Lisa eyed him with a mixture of disgust and irritation.
"You better not embarrass me tonight," Lisa said sharply, adjusting her diamond necklace in the mirror. "If anyone asks, you're just a distant relative. Or a driver. Understand?"
Brian nodded. His throat was dry. He hadn't eaten since morning.
The event was held at The Imperial Hall, one of the most luxurious places in the city. Red carpets. Golden chandeliers. Expensive perfumes and colognes filled the air. Lisa walked in first, her head held high like a queen, and Brian followed three steps behind like a servant.
People turned to look. But not at her. At him.
"Isn't that the Walker family's son-in-law?" someone whispered. "Why's he dressed like that?"
"I heard he still eats leftovers and sleeps in the servants' quarters," another voice added, laughing.
Brian lowered his gaze, but he heard every word. The murmurs, the sneers, the laughter—they stabbed deeper than any knife.
"Lisa! Over here!" Jason waved from a golden table near the stage.
As Lisa walked over gracefully, Jason spotted Brian following and smirked. "Did you bring your shadow?"
Lisa giggled, kissing Jason's cheek. "He insisted on coming. Let him watch how real men behave."
Jason reached for a glass of red wine and leaned toward Brian. "You must be thirsty. Here—drink."
Before Brian could respond, Jason's hand "slipped," and the entire glass spilled across Brian's chest.
The red liquid soaked his cheap suit, staining it instantly.
"Oh, my bad!" Jason grinned. "Guess I'm just too clumsy."
People laughed.
Lisa didn't help. She didn't even look concerned.
Brian took a napkin and began wiping his shirt, his jaw clenched.
Jason snapped his fingers. "No, no, no. Not like that." He shoved a cloth into Brian's hands. "Clean it properly. On your knees. Show some manners."
Brian looked at the cloth. Then at Jason. Then at Lisa.
Her eyes said it all: Do it. Or else.
So Brian knelt.
The marble floor was cold. His fingers trembled. But he wiped the mess—slowly, silently.
"Perfect," Jason said. "You're born for this kind of job."
People applauded. One man tossed a few coins at Brian's feet. "Here. Buy yourself some pride."
A woman took out her phone. "This is going viral. Poor little servant son-in-law!"
Lisa didn't say a word.
Brian stood once he was done. His shirt stuck to his body. His eyes burned—but he didn't cry. He would never give them that.
He sat in a corner behind Lisa while the others drank champagne and talked business. No one brought him a drink. No one offered him food. He didn't belong there—but he stayed, because she was still his wife.
A voice interrupted the laughter. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."
The room went silent.
A man in a black suit stepped onto the stage—tall, confident, powerful.
"Tonight, we're honored to announce a new investment. The Horizon Group will be entering a partnership with one of the local companies."
Lisa's eyes widened. "Did he say Horizon Group? That's huge!"
Jason leaned in. "If we get in, your family's reputation will double."
The man on stage continued, "We've decided to work with… the Langston Family."
Gasps.
Lisa's face fell.
Jason cursed under his breath. "Langston? That old fool beat us to it."
Lisa turned to Brian, frustrated. "Why are you even here? You're a walking curse!"
Before he could answer, a slap landed on his cheek.
Cecilia Walker had arrived.
Elegant. Ruthless. Dressed in blood-red.
"You filthy thing!" she spat. "We invited you to stay under our roof out of pity, and this is how you repay us? By ruining Lisa's night?"
Everyone turned again.
"Mother—" Lisa started, but Cecilia raised a hand.
"I warned you about marrying trash! Look at him! He kneels like a dog, dresses like a beggar, and stains our name like dirt."
The slap echoed louder than any microphone.
Brian didn't speak. He just stood there, frozen, staring at the marble floor.
"I want him out of our lives," Cecilia said, her voice cold. "Tonight."
Lisa hesitated. But she didn't defend him.
Jason added with a smirk, "Maybe he can sleep in the parking lot with the security guards."
Brian slowly turned and walked out of the hall.
No one stopped him. No one called his name.
Outside, the rain had begun.
He walked in the dark, the wine on his shirt mixing with water. He didn't know where to go. He had no car. No money. Not even a phone.
But still, he walked.
Because something in him had snapped.
---
He found an old bench near a bus stop and sat, shaking from the cold.
A drunk man stumbled past him. "You look worse than me, brother," he said and laughed.
Brian looked at his reflection in the rain puddle.
Who was he?
Just a son-in-law.
Just a joke.
Just a tool they used.
But not for long.
Brian clenched his fists slowly.
No more kneeling.
No more silence.
No more pain.
They had seen the dog.
But they hadn't met the wolf.
Not yet.