Rise of The Abandoned Husband

The silence in the room was suffocating. Roman's dismissal of Sebastian Hawthorne hung in the air like an executioner's blade. I watched Sebastian's face cycle through shock, disbelief, and barely contained fury.

"Perhaps there's been a misunderstanding," Sebastian finally said, his voice tight with forced politeness. "I merely expressed interest in expediting our discussions. The Hawthorne family doesn't appreciate having our time wasted."

Roman smiled, completely unfazed. "There's no misunderstanding, Mr. Hawthorne." He turned to address the entire room, his voice clear and commanding. "Ladies and gentlemen, I know you've all been waiting to meet our Chinese medicine expert."

The crowd murmured with anticipation, heads turning as they scanned the room for a new arrival.

"The truth is," Roman continued, "he's been here all along."

My heart pounded as Roman's gaze settled on me. This was the moment of truth.

"Mr. Liam Knight," Roman announced, extending his hand toward me with a respectful bow, "is the old Chinese doctor everyone is waiting for."

The room erupted into murmurs, then stunned silence. Sebastian's eyes widened, and Seraphina gasped audibly from across the room. Gideon Blackwood's jaw literally dropped.

"This is preposterous!" Sebastian snapped, recovering first. "This man is a nobody—a failed son-in-law without even basic medical credentials!"

I stepped forward, my voice calm despite the chaos around me. "Mr. Greene," I said, turning to Eamon. "Would you please bring in what we prepared?"

Eamon nodded and disappeared through the entrance. The crowd's attention was fixed on me now, a mixture of disbelief, curiosity, and in some cases, undisguised contempt.

"Mr. Volkov," Sebastian hissed, "if this is some kind of joke—"

"It's no joke," Roman interrupted firmly. "Mr. Knight's credentials speak for themselves—through results, not paper certificates."

Eamon returned carrying a large cloth sack. He placed it on a nearby table and loosened the drawstring at my nod.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, my voice steady and confident, "these are genuine Soul Nourishment Pills."

Eamon upended the sack, and hundreds of small, gleaming black pills tumbled onto the table. They were perfectly formed, each one identical to the next, with a faint herbal aroma that immediately wafted through the room.

The businessmen and women edged closer, eyes wide with desire and disbelief.

"This is absurd," Sebastian scoffed, though I noticed he was staring at the pills intently. "Anyone could gather some black pills and claim they're authentic. There's no proof that Knight had anything to do with creating these—if they're even real."

A voice rang out from the back of the crowd. "I can verify their authenticity!"

The crowd parted as an elderly man pushed his way forward. I recognized him immediately—Anthony Harding, the most respected practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine in Havenwood City. His opinion carried enormous weight.

"Mr. Harding," Sebastian said, clearly relieved. "Thank you for bringing some sanity to this farce. Please explain to everyone how these counterfeit pills—"

"May I?" Harding interrupted, reaching for one of the pills on the table. I nodded my permission.

The old doctor inspected the pill carefully, turning it over in his wrinkled hands. He sniffed it, then touched it to his tongue briefly. His eyes widened.

"The texture... the density... the balance of ingredients..." he muttered, almost to himself. Then he looked up, his face pale with shock. "These are not only genuine Soul Nourishment Pills—they're of superior quality to any I've ever examined."

A collective gasp swept through the room.

"That's impossible," Seraphina called out, her voice shrill. "Liam Knight knows nothing about medicine! He's a fraud!"

Anthony Harding ignored her, his eyes fixed on me with something like reverence. "The formulation is perfect—the balance of yin and yang energies, the subtlety of the binding agents... This is the work of a true master."

Then, to my astonishment, the elderly doctor lowered himself to his knees before me, right there in front of everyone.

"It would be my honor," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "to learn from you, Master Knight."

The room fell completely silent. Anthony Harding was nearly seventy years old, with decades of experience and a reputation that spanned the entire city. To see him kneel before me—a man half his age whom many had dismissed as worthless—sent shockwaves through the gathering.

I quickly stepped forward to help him up. "Please, Mr. Harding, there's no need for that. I respect your knowledge too much to see you kneel."

As I helped the old doctor to his feet, the floodgates broke. Suddenly, everyone was talking at once, pushing forward, trying to get closer to the table of pills.

"Mr. Knight, I'd like to place an order—"

"What's your asking price per pill?"

"My pharmaceutical company would be interested in distribution rights—"

"Would you consider taking on apprentices?"

The very businessmen who had mocked me minutes earlier were now falling over themselves to gain my favor. I caught sight of Jasper Monroe and Marcus Pierce at the edge of the crowd, their faces ashen with regret.

Sebastian Hawthorne stood frozen, his face contorted with rage and disbelief. Beside him, Gideon Blackwood looked like he might be sick.

"Mr. Knight," one voice rose above the others—a wealthy investor I recognized from business magazines. "Would you consider selling the formula? I'm prepared to offer ten million upfront."

Before I could answer, another voice called, "Fifteen million!"

"Twenty million, plus royalties!"

I held up my hand, and remarkably, the room fell silent.

"The Soul Nourishment Pill is not for sale," I said calmly. "Neither is the formula. My agreement is exclusively with Roman Volkov and his company."

Roman smiled beside me, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"However," I continued, "we are expanding production. These pills will be available through proper channels within the month."

As the crowd erupted again, I caught sight of Seraphina Sterling. She was standing apart from the throng, her face pale, lips pinched tight. Our eyes met across the room, and for the first time since I'd known her, I saw genuine fear in her expression.

I turned my attention back to the enthusiastic crowd. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian Hawthorne storming toward the exit, his face twisted with unbridled fury.

"Those who were kind to me in the past," I said clearly, "will find me generous in return."

The implication wasn't lost on anyone. Several faces in the crowd blanched as they recalled their previous treatment of me.

As the clamor continued around me, Roman leaned close to my ear. "You've made quite an impression today," he murmured. "Sebastian Hawthorne won't forget this humiliation."

I nodded slightly. "I'm counting on it."

The businessmen continued to press forward, desperate for my attention now. Those who had been eager to curry favor with the Hawthorne family just minutes ago were now filled with intense regret, realizing the opportunity they had missed.

But I wasn't focused on them anymore. My gaze drifted to the doorway where Sebastian had disappeared. This was just the beginning. The real battle was still to come.