"If our four families unite, can we really not take down one man?" Marcy Bun fumed. She couldn't stomach the idea that Evelyn Meyers, once a fallen socialite, had struck gold with a husband like Michael Thorn.
"It's not that simple," Tail's father, Joseph Watson, warned gravely. "Michael Thorne is low-key, but his reach is global. You don't pick a fight with a man who can buy a giant complex on a whim. Tanya, withdraw the lawsuit. Now."
Reluctantly, Tanya Banks contacted her lawyers to drop the charges against Evelyn. Meanwhile, the patriarchs of the four families gathered in a private conference room.
"That Thorn bastard's ambition is beyond our imagination," Juliet Steve's father noted, his voice low. "He's already established a firm grip on every sector of the Country, talk less of Arise City. If Evelyn is his wife, she is off-limits. Period."
Mr. Steve was the first to bail on the alliance. He knew a sinking ship when he saw one.
"If Tail and Tanya hadn't provoked her, we wouldn't be in this mess. I'm taking my daughter out of this."
"You're abandoning us?" Mr. Banks snapped, but Henshaw Steve didn't look back. He had seen Michael Thorn's methods of handling things years ago.
The Steve Household
SLAP!
A crisp sound echoed through the Mansion. Juliet Steve looked at her father in shock, clutching her burning cheek.
"Dad! Why?"
"From today on, if you so much as breathe the same air as Tanya Banks or Marcy Bun, you are out of this family!" Henshaw Steve roared. "Do you have any idea who Michael Thorn is? A few years ago in Port City, a man insulted him at a dinner party. In three days, that man's company was bankrupt. In fact, his entire family was destitute. If you had said one wrong word to Evelyn, our family company would be ash by tomorrow!"
Juliet trembled. She had never seen her father this terrified. "I... I understand, Dad. I won't go near them."
"Good. I'm you are leaving the city for a few months. Stay away from that girl of the Banks family."
The Thorn Villa
Evelyn was restless. After a few days of luxury, she was bored out of her mind. "I need a job," she muttered, staring at her drama school diploma. "The only thing I'm qualified for is acting or production. Should I apply to an entertainment firm?"
At 6:00 PM, Michael returned for dinner. Remembering the "milk incident" that led to a very long night, Evelyn decided to play it safe. She sent him a text from the living room while he was in his study.
Evelyn: Just so you know, I'm applying for a job at a film and television company tomorrow.
The reply was instantaneous.
Michael: No.
Evelyn's eyes widened. She marched toward the study.
Evelyn: Why not?!
Michael: It is not happening. You will report to Thorn International tomorrow morning. Go to Dominic. He will have your placement ready.
In the study, Michael gripped his phone, his eyes dark with a memory from years ago. Back then, a woman had told him she had a dream to chase on the silver screen. She had promised to come back once she realized it, but she had only drifted further away.
He wasn't going to let her out of his sight this time. If she wanted to work, she would do it within the walls of his empire.
A heavy shadow from the past seemed to loom over Michael as he sat in the dim light of his study. For a moment, he wasn't the invincible CEO of Thorn International; he was a man haunted by the memory of a woman who chose her dreams over him.
"I'll be back in a month," she had said. One month became three. Then came the excuses about directors and award ceremonies, followed by paparazzi photos of her with other leading men.
Michael snapped out of the memory and reached for a bottle of liquor, his patience worn thin, he should be focused on other important things.
When Evelyn pushed open the study door, she was hit by a wall of pungent cigar smoke and the sharp scent of alcohol. The room was dark, save for the glow of a single lamp.
Michael sat decadently on the sofa, nursing a glass. His eyes were bloodshot and cold, a sight that made Evelyn's heart ache.
"What are you doing, Michael?" she asked, her voice soft but firm. She moved to take the bottle from the table, but he blocked her, blowing a thick cloud of smoke into her face.
"Cough... Michael, stop it!"
He put out the cigarette and leaned back, closing his eyes. Evelyn tried to pull him toward the bathroom, but he was like a mountain. Finally, he reached out and pulled her into his lap, burying his face in her neck.
"Shh... don't talk. Just let me hold you."
Evelyn froze, then slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel his sadness, a weight he never spoke of. Is it because of that other woman? she wondered. In that moment, her resistance melted into a strange, budding dependency.
That night, Michael was uncharacteristically gentle. But for Evelyn, it felt like an illusion. She couldn't shake the feeling that, in his heart, he was holding someone else.
The First Day at Thorn International
Despite her reservations, Evelyn reported to Thorn International the next day. Dominic offered her several high-level openings, but she chose a surprising path: Assistant Manager in the Jewelry Development Department.
"It's interesting," she told herself, though she knew this was just a temporary stop. Once she cleared her father's name and finished her revenge, she intended to return to the world of film.
Her direct supervisor was a seasoned, 40 year old woman named Bailey Suk. Bailey was brilliant but carried a streak of professional arrogance. Because Evelyn had been brought in personally by Dominic, her younger colleagues treated her with a mix of awe and suspicion, while the seniors were politely distant.
Wanting to keep her marriage low-key, Evelyn didn't wait for Michael after her shift. She hopped on her scooter and drove home before he could even finish his meetings.
For the next few days, they barely saw each other. Michael was buried in work, and Evelyn spent her time submerged in Jewelry designs and formats.
One afternoon, a whisper rippled through the Design Department.
"Hey, did you hear? The President's mother is here today!" a colleague whispered to another.
"Really?"
"Yes! I saw her on the first floor. She looked very unhappy when she left."
Evelyn paused, her heart skipping a beat. The President's mother? That would be my mother-in-law.
That evening, a text from Michael appeared on her phone: We're having dinner together tonight. You're meeting Mom.
Evelyn panicked. She hadn't prepared for a formal introduction, let alone with a mother-in-law who was reportedly "unhappy." She quickly changed into a more sophisticated outfit and sneaked up to the executive floor.
Dominic greeted her with a bow. "The President is expecting you, Madam. Please, go right in."
Inside the office, Michael was finishing a report. When he closed his laptop, Evelyn spoke up nervously. "We... we should buy a gift first. It's the first time I'm meeting her."
"Fine," Michael agreed.
They stopped at a high-end mall where Evelyn carefully selected a pair of gold-inlaid earrings. They were elegant and the kind of gift that screamed "dutiful daughter-in-law."
As they walked back to the car, Evelyn looked at Michael's handsome profile. "Your mother must be very beautiful."
"She's your mother now, too," Michael said, his voice turning uncharacteristically serious. He gripped her hand tightly. "When you see her, try to be tolerant."
Evelyn frowned. Tolerant? She's my elder, shouldn't it be the other way around?
Within ten minutes of stepping through the front door, Evelyn realized exactly what Michael meant when he warned her to be "tolerant."
The atmosphere in the villa was suffocating. Mrs. May, the house keeper looked frazzled, and as they entered the living room, Evelyn saw the source of the tension. Seated on the sofa in the middle of the room was a woman who looked barely in her thirties, dressed in a high-fashioned white pantsuit and heels. Her beauty was undeniable, but her features were pinched with disdain.
"Mom," Michael said, his grip on Evelyn's hand tightening as if he were bracing for a physical blow.
"This is my wife, Evelyn. Call her Mom, Evelyn."
"Hello, Mom," Evelyn said, her voice small. It had been years since she'd used that word, and it felt heavy on her tongue.
"Don't call me Mom!" The lady snapped, her eyes raking over Evelyn with pure disdain. "Michael, why did you bring this thing back into our home?"
Thing? Me? Evelyn stood frozen, stunned by the sheer hostility.
"Mother, Evelyn is my wife. I expect you to respect her," Michael replied, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. Evelyn felt a surge of gratitude—having him stand up to his own mother for her was a shield she hadn't expected.
"I do not acknowledge her as a daughter-in-law of the Thorn family!" The woman stood up, her voice rising. "There is only one woman meant for this family, and it isn't this seductress! How could you abandon Erica after more than eight years for this?"
"Mom, Evelyn bought you a gift." Michael ignored her outburst and nudged Evelyn. She quickly pulled the gold earrings from her bag.
"Mom, I wasn't sure what you liked, so I picked these..."
The woman didn't even glance at the box. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she slapped the gift out of Evelyn's hand. It hit the floor with a hollow thud.
Evelyn's heart stung. She took a deep breath, but before she could speak, Michael growled, "This is unreasonable. We're going upstairs."
"Michael! You would walk away from your mother for a slut?"
He didn't answer. He led Evelyn up the stairs, but when they reached her usual bedroom, Evelyn gasped. Her clothes, her skincare, and her personal belongings had been tossed into the hallway in a disorganized, humiliating heap.
Erica. Evelyn remembered the name from Michael's Chat. Is that the 'rightful' daughter-in-law?
"Mrs. May," Michael called out, his voice echoing. But his mother followed them up, her face flushed with anger. "Move my wife's things into my master suite. Now."
"Michael! How can you let that woman live in Erica's room? You've cleared out everything Erica left here! You let me down!" The woman demanded, her hands shaking.
Michael stopped at the door, but didn't look back. "I am more disappointed in you."
He closed the door on his mother's protests. Outside, The woman screamed at Mrs. May to throw everything back out, but Michael was already making a move. He took Evelyn back out to the mall, ignored her pleas to move out to avoid a family rift, and systematically replaced every item his mother had trashed.
"Michael, stop. You're fighting with your mother over a business arrangement," Evelyn whispered as he pushed her into a fitting room with an armful of designer clothes.
"Try them on," was all he said.
By the time they finished, Dominic had been called to transport a mountain of new purchases back to the villa.
Back at the house, the woman tried to intercept the bags, ready to throw them out again. But Dominic stood his ground with professional poise. "Madam, the President says that the Miss Evelyn is his lawful wife. He also said that for every item you throw away, he will buy ten more.
The woman stared at him, then let out a bitter, cold laugh. "Fine. Let him play his games."
She retreated to her guest room and dialed a number.
"Auntie? Hello?" a soft, melodic voice answered.
"Erica, you need to get back here immediately!" She cried. "You silly child, you don't even know your man has been stolen."
In a distant dressing room, Erica froze, her makeup sponge mid-air. She remembered the strange Chat reply from weeks ago. "What happened, Auntie?"
"Michael... he went behind our backs and got a marriage certificate with a little slut! The family elders investigated his life recently, none of us knew until the certificates were found!"
CRACK. Erica's hand tightened on her vanity table. Her face, usually a mask of grace and flourish, twisted into something unrecognizable. A marriage certificate? After eight years of waiting, he married a nobody?