Chapter 1
Ashburn, Royal Oak Inn. “Sir, your takeout has arrived.” Edward Stone, dressed in his delivery uniform, knocked on the hotel room door. “Coming!” The door swung open, and Edward was instantly taken aback by the scene inside—an intimate moment shared by a couple. The man who answered the door was a stranger. But the woman behind him, wrapped in a bathrobe with an alluring figure, was none other than his wife, Isabella King. Thud. The takeout slipped from Edward's grasp, crashing to the floor. Just moments before, he had been curious about who would order takeout at a five-star hotel, as most guests generally resorted to room service. Yet here he was, delivering directly to a room, only to find his wife with another man. The stranger’s anger flared as he saw the food scattered at his feet. He opened his mouth to berate Edward but stopped short as Isabella called out from inside, her voice a mixture of surprise and concern. “Darling, what... what are you doing here?” The man’s brows knitted in confusion as he appraised Edward up and down. Edward, average height but decent-looking in his bright yellow delivery uniform, stood frozen. The stranger laughed derisively. “Isabella, I had no idea your husband was just some loser delivering food. Ha! Should've known better than to order takeout myself.” He carried on, seemingly unfazed, having casually slept with someone else's wife, confident in his status and wealth. Edward glared at Isabella, trying to keep his composure. “Isabella King, I’ve lived in your family’s house as a son-in-law for three years, taking care of your family, cooking meals, and walking the dog. I thought you had principles, yet here you are, cozying up with another guy. Why are you doing this?” Isabella, her beauty striking even in disbelief, soon regained her composure and stepped boldly to the door, her arrogance radiating. “Why? Take a good look in the mirror. You’re in a delivery uniform. You’re just a delivery guy.” “Do you even know who he is? He’s Victor Lane, scion of the Ashburn elite, worth nearly a billion,” she continued, dismissively. Edward scoffed. “So it’s all about the money, huh? Just because I’m not as rich…” Victor pierced in, smugly. “You got that right. Money talks, buddy. It can do whatever the hell it wants.” He glanced down at the takeout that lay in shambles at his feet and smirked. “I should make a fuss about this. But hey, since you’re Isabella’s husband, just kneel and apologize, and I’ll give you a five-star rating. How about that?” Victor chuckled and pulled Isabella closer to him. Edward expected her to stop him, to defend her marriage, but instead, she encouraged the man’s audacity. “Just apologize to Victor. Trust me, you don’t want to mess with him.” Fury blazed in Edward’s chest. These two were colluding against him, acting as if he were the one in the wrong simply for catching them in the act—just because they had money. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to strike this smug bastard. But the moment he took a step forward, Victor recoiled, retreating three paces. Isabella stepped in front of him, her voice a sharp reprimand. “Edward, look at yourself. A lucky day for you is coming into a five-star hotel room. Just leave, or I’ll call security.” He stared at Isabella, his fingers relaxing reluctantly. “Isabella, I hope one day you won’t regret this.” With that, he turned to leave. “Do you know what I regret the most? Marrying a pathetic loser like you!” Isabella called after him, her tone both melodic and cutting. Her voice echoed down the hotel corridor, ringing in Edward’s ears like a chime, but growing heavier in his heart. Once outside, he climbed onto the delivery motorcycle provided by the company. Just as he revved the engine, his phone buzzed. “Hello, this is Perfect Deliveries,” he answered smoothly, slipping back into his professional demeanor. A gravelly voice filled the line. “Young Master, your three years as a son-in-law in the King family are officially over.” “Your next assignment will be a business trial; your father has acquired Hawthorn Corporation, and you’ve been appointed as its chairman.” “Got it,” Edward replied calmly. Most would be ecstatic about such a sudden leap from delivery driver to chairman. However, the news washed over him with an eerie calmness. The voice continued, “Your father wants to know how things are with the Young Lady. Should we formally allow her into the Stone family as an heir?” Edward let out a cold laugh. “Let Isabella King inherit my family’s ten billion? Not a chance. She isn’t worthy.” He hung up, gripping the throttle tighter as he sped into the bustling streets, leaving the Royal Oak Inn and its betrayals behind him.
Chapter 2
Edward Stone tapped his Bluetooth earpiece, the familiar opening chords of 'The Early Morning Train' by Beyond swirling around him. He embraced the soaring melody, letting it transport him back to three years ago when he first met Isabella King. Born into one of the richest families in the world, Edward’s lineage was as hidden as it was opulent. Names like Child, Dupont, and Morgan were whispered in high society, but the Stone family—the wealthiest of them all—remained shrouded in mystery, their billions invisible in the glitzy world of Forbes lists. From a young age, Edward was molded for greatness. His grandfather firmly believed in a hands-on approach to parenting, enrolling him in martial arts, piano, and violin lessons as soon as he could walk. By the time Edward graduated high school, he breezed through four years of business studies in the States. To toughen him up, three years ago, Edward's grandfather arranged for him to marry into the King family, a second-tier clan from Ashbourne. It was a path less travelled; fellowship and humiliation awaited him in equal measure. Now, after three years of quiet endurance, Edward was finally ready to confront his wife. He imagined the look on Isabella’s face when she learned the truth about him. “What will you think, Isabella King, when the real me comes to light?” he mused, anticipation bubbling within. He returned home to his apartment on the ninth floor of a new-build in the New Bridge community shortly after eight, just after completing a delivery job. “You're back? You don’t have to cook tonight, I ordered takeout,” Isabella announced, her voice carrying a rare warmth as she set the table. Edward slipped off his shoes, barely meeting her gaze. “I’m just here to pack my things.” Their shared apartment had always felt more like two separate living spaces; in the three years since their wedding, they had never slept under the same roof. Isabella’s mood shifted instantly. She marched over, hands on her hips. “What? Are you really going to walk out over this? It’s not that big a deal!” Edward was already stuffing clothes into a suitcase, frustration boiling in his gut. “Not that big a deal? You think cheating is just a small mistake?” Isabella froze, her eyes darting away, avoiding his piercing gaze. “So what? Do you want me to apologize? You eat my food, sleep in my house, so what if I messed up a bit? You just have to deal with it!” With a fierce thud, Edward slammed the suitcase shut. “I’ve put up with your family for three years! I’ve been good to you, and in return, you’ve never even looked at me properly!” He unloaded everything that had been bottled up inside. “Your mother, Evelyn Swift, has humiliated and beaten me time and time again—I've never uttered a word in my defense! And your father, William King, treated me like a personal servant, assigning me the dirtiest tasks and leaving me injured more times than I can count—injuries I paid for with my own delivery earnings! And your uncle and his kids? Every day was a new level of torment!" “I’m done swallowing insults! Isabella King, let’s just get a divorce!” Isabella’s face paled, shock morphing into laughter that didn’t reach her eyes. “You think you can just suggest divorce? Don’t say I didn’t warn you—once we’re done, you won’t get to live in this sprawling apartment or drive your fancy Audi anymore!” Edward chuckled darkly, “An apartment? An Audi? I don’t need any of that.” Isabella responded with biting sarcasm, “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. You know, I often wonder what grandpa was thinking, letting me marry a loser like you. My family is practically high society in Ashbourne with assets worth billions—you're a nobody compared to us!” He zipped his suitcase without another glance, not wanting to engage with her petty insults. “Then let’s go to the Civic Council Hall tomorrow and finalize this.” Isabella refused outright. “Not happening! Tomorrow is my grandma’s eightieth birthday, and the whole family is gathering. Plus, I need to talk it out with my folks first.” Their marriage had been a family arrangement from the start, one she had never had the power to refuse. Breaking it off wouldn’t be hers to decide, either. “Just let your family know as soon as possible,” Edward said, stepping towards the door with his luggage in tow. “I’ll wait for your call.” “Jerk! Loser! You’ll regret this! In a few days, you'll be begging for me to take you back!” Isabella’s voice trailed after him, her insults echoing in the empty hallway as he ignored her ranting, his heart racing with newfound freedom. A billionaire, he thought, wouldn't come crawling back to a second-rate family like hers. Isabella King had seriously overestimated her worth.
Chapter 3
The following day, at ten in the morning, the luxurious Ashbourne Creek Estates buzzed with anticipation. Isabella King’s grandmother was celebrating her eightieth birthday, and the party was set to take place at the finest hotel in Ashbourne. But before the festivities kicked off, the matriarch had summoned her family to her sprawling villa. “Happy Birthday, Grandma!” Isabella said, coming forward with a bright smile. “Mom, may you have blessings as endless as the Southern mountains! Live to be two hundred!” chimed in Isabella's father, Henry. Inside the grand villa, a throng of family had gathered—Isabella's siblings and their children. It was a lively gathering, dominated by an unspoken competition for the old woman’s affections and, more recently, her legacy. The family’s wealth was staggering, counting in the billions, and all the power over the family company sat firmly in Grandma’s lap. Her two sons, William and Henry, were keenly aware of this, vying to win her favor for the sake of their future. Settled in an opulent mahogany chair worth a small fortune, Grandma King cradled a fluffy poodle in her lap. She watched her grandchildren from behind a gracious smile as they lavished her with gifts and compliments. Then, her eyes fell onto the floor, where the poodle had left a little mess. Her expression soured, and with a brittle tone, she called out, “Where’s that useless son-in-law? Get him over here to clean this up!” “Useless son-in-law” was, of course, Edward Stone. For the past three years, it fell to Edward to take care of the dog’s business. William King glanced around the room, slightly puzzled. “Hmm, where's Edward? Isn’t he supposed to be here today?” “Wait, what? It’s my eightieth birthday and he’s not here? Isabella, what’s going on?” Grandma’s anger was palpable. “He might be at work…” Isabella replied, her voice low and cautious. “Work? What, delivering takeout? Hilarious!” scoffed Amelia, William's daughter. Lucas shrugged, joining in on the mockery. “It’s embarrassing! The other day, I was driving my Maserati and almost ran into him. I couldn’t even tell my friends he’s family!” Grandma’s expression darkened, simmering with fury. “Get him here now! He clearly doesn’t know how to respect family!” Isabella could see her grandmother's face twist in anger and had no choice but to spit out the truth. “Grandma, he isn’t coming because... we’re getting a divorce.” “Divorce? Who gave you permission to walk away? You know your grandfather arranged your marriage!” her grandmother thundered. Isabella knelt, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Grandma, I respect Grandpa’s wishes, but Edward... he’s gone too far!” Seeing her granddaughter's sorrow, Grandma’s heart softened. She stepped closer, gently lifting Isabella’s chin. “Isabella, don’t cry. You are one of us. If he’s mistreating you, let me know. I’ll handle him.” Sniffling, Isabella wiped her tears. “He has someone else.” “What?” The revelation sent shockwaves through the room. The floor nearly gave beneath Grandma as William stepped in to steady her. “How dare he! We've given him a mansion, a luxury car, and he still goes out looking for other women?” Her voice trembled with rage. Isabella played her cards right, painting Edward as the villain and easily winning her grandmother’s trust. In the family dynamic, she was a masterful actress, having maintained a sweet and innocent facade for years. Her parents, misled by Isabella’s performance, joined the chorus of condemnation against Edward. But the mood in William’s camp was completely different. Amelia, with a sly grin, quipped, “Isabella, don’t you call yourself Ashbourne’s top beauty? You’ve got the looks and figure; how could he find someone better?” Amelia, a social media sensation famed for her sultry silhouette, had amassed millions of followers without ever showing her face. Yet, her envy of Isabella simmered beneath the surface. Lucas chimed in, “You know, Isabella, you have to take some of the blame too. You’ve been married for three years and never let him touch you. What’s a pretty fruit if it can’t be picked? He’s going to look elsewhere!” Isabella’s mother, Evelyn Swift, stepped in to defend her daughter. “Lucas, that’s out of line! Isabella is a gem, and Edward—he has no place to claim any of her!” Lucas snorted. “Please, couldn’t you see it? You just want to keep her a 'clean slate' so she can dump him and find someone rich!” “Enough with the insults!” Grandma interjected sharply. “Even if Isabella has played it coy, he’s got no right to betray! We treat him like family. Now, get that scoundrel here. I have some ‘family discipline’ waiting for him!”
Chapter 4
**The Weight of Family Honor** The Kings were a family steeped in tradition, and their rules were enforced with an iron fist. Breaking family law could mean anything from a week of physical punishment to severing a finger. Isabella King wasted no time and dialed Edward Stone's number. “What’s up?” Edward answered, his tone flat. “Grandma wants you to come over,” Isabella said, maintaining her composure. “Nope,” Edward replied, hanging up before she could protest. Taken aback by his swift refusal, Isabella placed the phone down and turned to her grandmother. “He’s not coming.” Evelyn Swift, feeling the tension, jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation. “Mom, today is your 80th birthday. Let’s focus on your celebration and forget about that loser.” But Evelyn was stubborn. “As long as it’s part of the King family, whether it’s a person or a pet, they’re obligated to come when I call.” With that, she turned to Lucas King. “Lucas, go fetch him.” “Sure thing,” Lucas said, cracking his knuckles. He relished the opportunity to rough Edward up a bit—after all, he had always enjoyed bullying him. Once Lucas left, Evelyn returned to her lavish mahogany chair, gently stroking her prized poodle to steady her nerves. After a moment, she addressed the gathered family. “I called you all here today because there’s something important we need to discuss.” William King, Henry King, and the others sat up straight, ready to hear what Evelyn had to say. “Just yesterday, Hawthorn Consortium brought in a new chairman,” she continued. “No one knows who he is or where he came from.” “We all know that Pinnacle Estates has ties with Hawthorn Consortium. Right now, we’re maneuvering a $70 million financing deal that’s not sealed yet. Building a good relationship with this new chairman is our top priority!” Pinnacle Estates was the family’s pride and joy, the very development where Isabella lived. But with a recent cash flow crisis, the $70 million investment was absolutely critical. As they processed Evelyn’s words, it was clear: The one who connected with the new Hawthorn chairman and secured the funding would earn Evelyn’s favor, potentially boosting their position in the family business and even impacting inheritance rights. “I’ll handle it, Mom. I’ll make sure I get in good with this new chairman!” Henry declared. “Why should it be you? I’ve handled financing before, and this is my territory!” William shot back, a grin of competitiveness spread across his face. Seeing the fire in both men, Evelyn smiled. “It’s my 80th birthday, and all of Ashbourne’s prominent figures will be here to celebrate. While you’re hosting, I want you to dig up any information about the new chairman. Whoever gathers the intel first will get the responsibility for this funding.” “Understood, Mom!” they replied in unison. … Lucas drove away from the estate, revving up his Maserati as he glided down the freshly paved, damp road. As he flicked ash from his cigarette, he called Edward’s number. “What’s up?” Edward’s voice came through the line. Lucas laughed. “Edward, Isabella just spilled the beans about you guys. Didn’t expect you to have the guts to blow her off.” “Isabella... told you everything?” Edward echoed, shocked. “Yep, she was crying her eyes out. Honestly, I think she’s got issues. What’s the big deal? Sure, she’s pretty, but she’s not even as hot as our sister Amelia. So what’s stopping you from just hooking up with her?” Edward sighed, believing Isabella’s tears were out of guilt. “Let the past stay in the past.” “Where are you?” Lucas suddenly asked. “At Greenwood Residences, delivering food.” “Hang tight; I’ll be there soon.” Moments later, Lucas sped to the entrance of Greenwood, spotting Edward coming out on his motorcycle. Lucas rolled down the passenger window. “Get in. Grandma wants to see you.” Assuming Evelyn wanted to plead for Isabella, Edward shook his head. “Even if she’s backing Isabella, it won’t change anything. I’m getting out of this marriage.” Lucas looked bewildered. “You think my grandma is begging you? She’s got plans for you, buddy.” The sun blared down, making Edward squint. “Plans? What do you mean?” Lucas’s expression darkened. “You really think you can cheat with someone while our family’s name is at stake?” “Sure, I’m glad to see Isabella got what’s coming to her, but she’s still a King. What you’ve done to her isn’t okay!” Edward was stunned. “Are you saying I cheated? Is that what Isabella told you?” He was floored. Could it be that Isabella was shifting the blame onto him? What a brazen—and utterly shameless—woman! There had to be a limit to such humiliation!
Chapter 5
“Enough with the small talk,” Lucas King snapped, irritation bubbling up in his voice. “Get in the damn car. First, we’re heading to the hotel to welcome the guests. After today’s Feast of Longevity, you’ll get your punishment, and we’ll sort out your divorce.” Edward Stone shot back, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “I told you, I’m not going!” Lucas’s temper flared. “You think you’re waiting to get hit, huh?” With that, he swung the car door open, stormed out, and unleashed a kick aimed straight at Edward, who was perched on his motorcycle. In a flash, Edward executed a spectacular maneuver, twisting his bike backward just in time to avoid Lucas’s attack. He hopped off the bike, and in a fluid motion, delivered a sharp kick to Lucas’s gut. Bam! Lucas, a notorious playboy known more for his string of girlfriends than fitness, stumbled back, utterly unprepared for the hit. “What the—? You little punk, you dared to strike back!” Lucas’s shock was palpable. For three years, he’d delighted in tormenting Edward, even before Isabella King's family. Edward had always cowered, never once retaliating. Yet today, the son-in-law had flipped the script, taking down the future heir of the King family. Rising unsteadily, Lucas rifled through the trunk of his Maserati, retrieving a fruit knife, his face contorted with rage. “I’ll make you pay for this—I'll kill you!” With a flurry of wild swings, Lucas made three desperate strikes, but they were no match for Edward’s training. Years spent training in martial arts since he was five had honed his reflexes, and he adeptly dodged each attempt. With lightning speed, Edward seized the moment. A swift jab to Lucas's wrist sent the fruit knife clattering to the asphalt. Before Lucas could even reach down for his weapon, Edward unleashed a barrage of punches, his form impeccable. Pow! Pow! Pow! Lucas crumpled to the ground, dazed and unable to fight back any longer. Edward loomed over him, eyes steady. “You go back to your family and tell them—I'm no longer their dog, summoned at will. I’ll go where I choose, and don’t expect me to take orders from any of you!” Without another word, Edward hopped back on his bike, off to deliver his next order, leaving Lucas battered and bruised. Lucas leaned against his car, nursing his injuries. His face, already swollen and bruised, served as the perfect bait for sympathy from his grandmother. He was not about to waste this opportunity. He drove back to Creekside Villa, where his grandmother and the rest of the family were just exiting the house, ready to greet the arriving guests. “Look who’s back!” Amelia King exclaimed, spotting the familiar gleaming yellow Maserati approaching. “Lucas is efficient as always!” Grandma King responded with a hint of pride in her tone, unaware of the truth. But as Lucas stepped out alone, badly beaten, concern flickered across Grandma’s face. He was the only male heir left in the King family, and if something happened to him... “What on earth happened to you, my dear? Who did this?” her voice broke with worry. Lucas wasted no time diving into his sob story. “Grandma, it was Isabella's useless husband! He just attacked me!” “What?” William King exploded, pointing an accusatory finger at Henry King’s direction. “Your worthless son-in-law had the nerve to hurt Lucas? You’d better give me an explanation!” Panic erupted within Henry King and Evelyn Swift. They knew Edward was their family’s son-in-law, and trouble would inevitably roll downhill to them. “That loser is nothing but a headache. If I see him, I’m going to flatten his face!” Evelyn spat angrily. “Should we call the cops, Grandma?” Lucas asked, looking hopeful. “No, this is a family matter. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he gets what's coming to him!” Grandma assured him, her resolve hardening. She turned to William now. “William, I know you have connections. Make sure that scoundrel feels a real beating for this. Bring him back to me!” “Absolutely!” William's blood boiled at the sight of his son’s injuries. He reached for his phone, eager to dial up a few “friends” from his past. Half an hour later, outside a modest apartment building... Edward had just wrapped up his last delivery, ready to head down the stairs when two towering figures blocked his path. Each one stood over six feet tall and weighed at least 200 pounds, tattoos snaking up their arms. “Edward Stone, right? You’re coming with us,” one of them, Liam Ink, growled. Edward cast a quick glance at the thugs, discerning they were sent by the Kings. “Not a chance. One last delivery, and I’m done. I’m not going anywhere,” Edward replied, his voice steady. He was committed to completing his job. Class or status didn't matter; he was going to end this chapter of his life on his own terms. “Not in the mood for a little chat,” the other muscle said, shaking his head. Without warning, they lunged forward, ready to enforce their orders.
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