Novel & Cerita I Am Not A Poor Son In Law

It was quite interesting. She stared at Petunia with the ghost of a smile and sarcastically said, “Mdm. Mason, I think you already know what the truth is. In the future, you shouldn’t directly say that other people’s things are fake when there is a difference. It’s intolerable when the person who is wrong makes the complaint first. “As I’ve said, when choosing a son-in-law, we have to choose the one with excellent character. “Tom is quite good. He is an honest person, and he never lies to us, unlike your son-in-law. He earns several hundred thousand dollars every month, yet he appeases you with a bottle of alcoholic apple cider that costs $15 in the end.

"I didn't know you worked... Here--I-I didn't k-know you worked here." I laugh again because this is not an unusual observation. My family is very well off but that doesn't make me very well off. My parents are rich, not me. "You don't have to cover it up. I know you weren't expecting a Henderson to be wearing an apron." "That's not it."

This makes the couple's love last forever. *** Why is the title of this story The Bad Son-in-Law? Because the men in this story are not good sons-in-law, they are bad. They marry women without the permission of their parents or family, and they do not involve the role of the woman's family in this married life. This story begins with a mistake that ends happily. So that makes women blind with a demonic figure behind the bodies of the men they love.

“You guys know damn well that every single penny of the eight million I had used to buy the shares was earned by myself, they were never part of the family fortune!” “All these years I’ve been treated like I’m less than a mutt for being a live-in son-in-law, did any of our family come to help!?” “If it wasn’t for the lack of funds, you guys would have forgotten about me!” Darryl clenched his fists, expressing himself word by word.

He said, not believing what I said. I smirked. Screw it. Screw the rich people. I had enough of this world and for people like him who think highly of themselves. Rich people think the world is about money. They think they can always get what they want. They are too driven by greed. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. I’m tired of this damn system. “Everything can be bought with money! I can even buy your whole life! Just stay away from my son!” I clicked my tongue, now smirking. “Tsk, you’re just getting desperate now knowing your son only listens to me,” I said. “I feel pity for you.”

“Okay, it was nice meeting you are. Wish you a quick recovery, sweetheart. Good evening, everyone.” “Have a good evening, son.” “Mother!” I yelled. “What, he’s going to be my son in law.” Jake who was about to close the door behind him, winked at me before leaving. “That was embarrassing,” I complained. “How could you say that? He’s probably going to think you’re desperate to have a rich son in law?” “Which is good because I’m getting desperate for an actual son in law. I don’t care if he’s poor or rich. You and your sister seem not to want to settle down, running around like a pair of teens when you’re grown women.”

My thoughts were all over the place, one bitter truth after another choking me. My husband always thought that I was worthless. Poor. A burden he couldn’t wait to shake off. But the irony was, I wasn’t at all. I was the daughter of the Calloway family—a name that carried weight, power, and more money than Quinn could ever dream of. I’d hidden that part of myself for him. For us. I didn’t want my name, my family’s fortune, to hang over his head. I didn’t want him to feel small or inferior.

I no longer go out on calls, but the site still works, bringing me passive income. And what a scandal there was with my father when he found out how his son was making money! Never in my life had I seen such furious desire in a parent’s eyes to finally whip my ass with a belt! I’m a difficult person, with my own quirks, and I don’t like dancing to someone else’s tune. That’s probably why I’m still not married. Not that I really want to, of course… “Alright,” I give in. “You really did work off your part of the deal.”

"The cardiac transplant, the post-op, the 24-hour care. We can’t carry the debt anymore." Elena’s reflection in the glass looked like a ghost. At twenty-five, she should have been worrying about career ladders or bad dates. Instead, she was calculating the price of a life. Her father had walked out when she was five, leaving behind nothing but a mountain of bills and a daughter who learned too early that love didn’t put food on the table. When her friend, Sarah, called with the "opportunity," Elena hadn't even hesitated. "He’s old, Elena. And he’s... complicated. But he’s lonely. One night. That’s all he wants. He’ll pay enough to clear your mother’s ledger twice over."