Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The Sterling mansion felt like a sinking ship. I watched from a distance as the news broadcast flickered across their enormous television screen, announcing to all of Veridia City what had transpired between me and the Ashworth family.

"Breaking news: Liam Knight, previously unknown in Veridia City's elite circles, has been personally selected by Michael Ashworth for a special collaboration with the Ashworth family. Sources report that prominent businessman Gideon Blackwood was publicly passed over during yesterday's meeting, marking a significant shift in the city's power dynamics."

Beatrice Sterling's face contorted in horror as she clutched her husband's arm. "This can't be happening! That... that nobody! How could he possibly—"

"Be quiet and listen!" Simon Sterling snapped, his knuckles white as he gripped the remote control.

The reporter continued, her perfectly made-up face failing to hide her excitement at such juicy news. "Michael Ashworth himself was unavailable for comment, but witnesses describe the meeting as 'revolutionary.' The Ashworth family's decision has sent shockwaves through Veridia City's business community. Gideon Blackwood, who was widely expected to secure this coveted position, left the Ashworth estate visibly distressed."

The broadcast cut to footage of Gideon stumbling out of the Ashworth mansion, his face ashen and tie askew. I couldn't help but smile at the poetic justice of seeing the man who had tormented me for years now humiliated on national television.

"Turn it off," William Sterling muttered from his armchair in the corner. Unlike his wife and son, he seemed resigned rather than shocked. "We've seen enough."

Simon ignored his father, turning up the volume instead. "I want to hear every word."

The reporter was now interviewing a business analyst. "This unprecedented move by the Ashworths suggests they're looking beyond traditional power structures. Liam Knight's emergence raises questions about what qualities the Ashworths are valuing in their new associates."

"Qualities?" Beatrice nearly shrieked. "What qualities could that man possibly possess? He was our daughter's charity case!"

William Sterling looked up wearily. "Clearly, the Ashworths saw something we didn't."

"Or he tricked them," Simon insisted. "He must have lied, manipulated them somehow."

William shook his head. "Michael Ashworth isn't a man easily fooled. If he chose Liam, he had his reasons."

"You're not actually defending him?" Beatrice turned on her father-in-law. "After everything that's happened?"

"I'm simply stating facts," William replied. "We underestimated him, and now we're paying the price."

The room fell into a tense silence as the news moved on to other topics. Simon finally turned off the television, throwing the remote onto the couch.

"What do we do now?" he asked, pacing the room. "Knight will destroy us. After how we treated him—"

"We treated him exactly as he deserved!" Beatrice insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.

William stood up slowly, joints creaking with age. "No, we didn't. And deep down, you both know that."

"Father!" Simon protested.

"We humiliated that boy for three years," William continued. "Made him sleep in servants' quarters, eat leftovers, work like a dog. For what? Because we thought he wasn't good enough for our Seraphina? Because he didn't come from money?"

Beatrice's lips thinned. "He wasn't good enough. He still isn't."

"The Ashworths clearly disagree," William replied dryly. "And their opinion carries more weight than ours ever will."

Simon collapsed onto the couch, running his hands through his hair. "He'll ruin us. One word from him to Michael Ashworth about how we treated him—"

"Perhaps we should approach him," Beatrice suggested suddenly. "Appeal to whatever decency he might have."

William laughed bitterly. "Decency? You mean the same decency you stomped on for three years? The same decency you accused him of lacking when you threw him out?"

"We have to try something!" Beatrice insisted. "What other choice do we have? To sit here and wait for him to destroy everything we've built?"

"We reap what we sow," William said quietly. "I'm going to my study. I suggest you both prepare for difficult times ahead."

As William left the room, Beatrice turned to her husband. "We can't just give up! You have to do something, Simon."

Simon looked defeated. "What can I possibly do? Liam holds all the cards now."

"Then I'll go myself," Beatrice declared, standing up. "I'll find him and make him understand that destroying us serves no purpose."

"Mother, don't—"

"Someone has to try!" she snapped. "I won't let everything we've worked for crumble because of that man."

---

Meanwhile, at Isabelle Ashworth's villa, I stood on the balcony of my luxurious suite, still trying to process the dramatic shift in my circumstances. Just days ago, I was sleeping in a servant's room, enduring daily humiliation. Now I was a guest in one of the most prestigious homes in Veridia City, with servants waiting on my every need.

The jade pendant warmed against my skin, a constant reminder of the power flowing through me. I touched it gently, grateful for the inheritance that had changed my life in ways I never imagined possible.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, turning from the balcony.

Isabelle Ashworth entered, elegant as always in a simple blouse and tailored pants. Her beauty still took my breath away, but there was something more between us now—a connection that went beyond mere attraction.

"Mr. Knight," she said with a small smile. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"You could never disturb me," I replied honestly. "And please, call me Liam."

She nodded, stepping further into the room. "Liam, then. I wanted to check on you after yesterday's events. Things moved rather quickly."

I laughed softly. "That's an understatement. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all."

"You handled it remarkably well," she said, moving to stand beside me on the balcony. "Not many could have maintained such composure in the face of such a dramatic change in fortune."

The gentle breeze carried her scent—something floral and delicate that made my heart race. I turned to face her directly.

"Miss Ashworth—"

"Isabelle," she corrected.

"Isabelle," I continued, enjoying the feel of her name on my lips. "Why did your grandfather choose me? Of all people?"

Her eyes met mine, unflinching. "Because he saw what I see—a man of extraordinary potential who was never given the chance to prove his worth."

"And what exactly do you see?" I asked, suddenly needing to know.

She studied me for a moment. "I see strength. Not just the kind that comes from your newfound abilities, but the kind that sustained you through years of mistreatment without breaking your spirit."

Her words warmed me more than I could express. Before I could respond, she continued, her tone turning more serious.

"But I must warn you, Liam. Your association with my family has thrust you into the spotlight. People who never knew your name yesterday are talking about you today. Some with curiosity, others with envy."

"I'm not afraid," I told her.

"Perhaps you should be, just a little," she countered. "The world I inhabit—the world you're now entering—is full of sharks who will see you as competition. Men like Gideon Blackwood won't take their public humiliation lightly."

I stepped closer to her. "Let them come. I'm not the same man I was before."

"No," she agreed, something like admiration flashing in her eyes. "You're certainly not."

"Does that concern you?" I asked, suddenly worried that my newfound confidence might seem arrogant.

To my relief, she smiled. "On the contrary. It's... refreshing. But be careful not to make unnecessary enemies. Power requires not just strength, but wisdom in how it's wielded."

I nodded, taking her advice seriously. "I'll remember that."

A comfortable silence fell between us as we looked out over the sprawling gardens of her estate. The question that had been burning in my heart since our first meeting demanded to be asked. I could no longer contain it, no longer pretend that what I felt for her was simple gratitude or admiration.

"Isabelle," I said, gathering every ounce of courage I possessed. My heart pounded so loudly I was certain she must hear it. "There's something I need to ask you."

She turned to me, her expression open and curious. "Yes?"

"I know this might seem sudden, or presumptuous given our different backgrounds, but..." I took a deep breath. "Miss Ashworth, can I be with you?"

The words hung in the air between us, raw and honest and terrifying in their vulnerability. I held my breath, waiting for her answer, aware that this moment could change everything.