The Fallen Son-in-law: Rise To Power

chapter 14

Chapter 14

Mikhail had seen the report a few hours ago. The patient's symptoms at the time of death, the body's reaction—everything seemed unusual to him. His inner belief that he was not wrong was unwavering. But the doctors were reluctant to accept it.

Dr. Leonardo said in a cold voice,

"Dr. Mikhail, we have made it clear—this is a natural death. If you continue to argue like this, you will have to be charged."

Mikhail's eyes were slightly red. His voice was heavy, as if he was trying to stop the storm inside him.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just saying—the manner of death was completely unusual. The patient’s body couldn’t have stopped like this. The reaction to the injection was obvious.”

One of the doctors laughed in a contemptuous tone.

“Do you think you know more than us in just one day’s work? We’ve been working here for years. Do you think we don’t know how to read reports?”

Mikhail said again,

“The reports and the body’s reactions say different things. Please see—”

Dr. Leonardo came straight forward this time, his eyes full of laughter.

“What do you think you are? You are a guest here. We will not change our decision because of your words. The death of one patient does not mean you have to be a hero.”

Mikhail’s body stiffened. The muscles in his face tightened.

“I don’t want to be a hero. I just want to know the truth.”

Another doctor then said, annoyed,

“You are causing chaos in the hospital. The patient is dead. It is our job to inform the family now. Why are you suddenly coming to make these allegations?”

Mikhail took a deep breath. He said with a firm gaze—

“Because the patient was stable until the last moment. And it seems that the drugs you prescribed could not have prevented his condition. Your behavior is suspicious.”

The doctors looked at each other now. Their patience was running out. Dr. Leonardo roared—

“Enough. You leave the hospital now. You will not work here. You should seek medical attention yourself.”

These words were a clear insult.

At that moment, two security guards came forward and grabbed Mikhail’s arm. As the doctors gestured, they began to push Mikhail out. Mikhail did not resist—but no one could see the insult, the anger, the fire in his eyes at that moment.

He stood outside the hospital. The cold wind hit his face, but the heat inside his heart did not subside even a little. He looked at the door with narrowed eyes. This hospital, this night—there was a truth hidden in everything, which he would have to uncover.

Just then, the nurse who had taken care of the patient's last days came out of the door. Bag in hand, a strange, fearful haste on her face. She looked around cautiously.

Mikhail was watching him from a distance, very attentively.

A kind of unease arose in his mind—this nurse knew something.

The nurse quickly left the hospital and started walking down a narrow alley. The street lamps cast a soft light on the pavement. Mikhail kept his distance and followed her. His steps were quiet, but his eyes were fixed on the goal.

The nurse somehow sensed that someone was following her. Occasionally she looked back, then walked quickly. The line of fear in her gaze was gradually getting darker.

Finally, she stood in front of her house—a small flat, old walls, an open landing. She took out her key and opened the door. Mikhail waited a few seconds until the door closed. Then he quickly came forward and called in a low voice—

“Stop.”

The nurse looked back in surprise, her eyes widening.

“Dr-Dr. Mikhail? Are you here? Why—”

Mikhail said in a low voice,

“I have a word with you.”

The nurse stepped back in fear.

“Now? I… I’m so tired. Let’s talk tomorrow…”

Mikhail’s face darkened. He took the opportunity to enter. Before the nurse could resist, he closed the door. The room was half dark. Only the light was coming in through the window.

He took out the surgical knife from his pocket—which he had already put in his bag. The nurse’s eyes froze in fear.

“Why are you…?”—the nurse said tremblingly.

Mikhail stood an inch away. His voice was hard as fire.

“You’ll tell the truth. How did the patient die?”

The nurse’s lips were trembling, her throat was dry.

“Wh-what can I say? The doctors—”

Mikhail suddenly raised the knife.

“It’s not a lie. I know you did something. You were by the patient’s side at the last moment.”

The nurse couldn’t stop crying.

“I… I didn’t want to… I was told…”

Mikhail’s eyes narrowed quickly.

“Who told you?”

The nurse covered her face and started to tremble.

“R-Mary madam… she… she said that it would be a problem if she let that woman live. She told me… to give me an injection. I was afraid… I was forced…”

A sharp pain shook Mikhail’s chest. His voice became heavy, anger overshadowed disbelief in his eyes.

“Mary?… Mary did this?”

The nurse said dryly,

“I couldn’t tell anyone… I was threatened. If I told anyone, my job would be gone, my life would be gone… I was scared.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Mikhail stood there, silent—but a thousand fires were burning inside him. The tears in the nurse’s eyes, the tremor in her voice—all of them told the truth.

Mikhail slowly lowered his hand.

“I won’t do anything to you today,” he said in a low voice—“because you were just scared. But remember—I will return when the time comes.”

The nurse lowered her head and began to cry. She couldn’t say anything more. Mikhail silently turned around and opened the door and went out.

---

Mikhail turned the car around that night and headed towards the Dixon mansion. The city streets were quite empty, the streetlights were falling on the car and moving away again and again. His grip on the steering wheel was stiff, as if he was trying to hold not only the car in his hands, but also the anger inside him. The nurse's trembling face, that confession, and another name - Mary - flashed before his eyes again and again.

Only one feeling was working in his chest at that moment, a strange cold anger. He was usually calm in his words, but when he made a decision, very few things could stop him. It was the same today.

Whether anyone believed him or not was no longer important.

He knew that his target was now clear - the Dixon family.

The car slowly passed through the busy part of the city and entered the wealthy area. Familiar gates, familiar streets, familiar houses – yet today everything seemed so far away to him. Once upon a time, someone would stand on the porch of this house and wait for him, calling him with a smile, opening the gate for him. Today he knew that they were just his past, but the reckoning remained.

He stopped the car in front of the Dixon Mansion. The palace-like house was bathed in light, as if everything inside had splendor and security. The guards standing in front of the gate stopped for a moment when they saw the car. They knew this car, this man too. Once he had been the eldest son-in-law of this house, today he was an unknown guest.

Mikhail glanced at the guards as he got out of the car.

“I’m going inside,” was all he said.

No one said anything to the guards. It was clear from inside the house that the car had arrived and stopped. A woman peeked out from behind the glass of the large door – it was Monica.

Monica recognized her at a glance. Her chest felt heavy. The past, the insults, the quarrels, the separation – all of it brought back mixed feelings to her mind. Yet her first reaction was different.

“He’s back again…” Monica whispered, moving her lips.

She thought to herself – maybe he’s come to apologize. Maybe what happened in the hospital, the failures, the struggles in her new life – all of it had broken her, and she had returned to her old shelter. That soft, stubborn feeling inside her, which still held some traces of the old love, tried to awaken hope.

Monica wanted to quickly move towards the door.

“I’ll go first, I’ll talk,” she thought to herself.

But a cold hand stopped her on her shoulder.

"You don't have to go," the voice was Mary's.

Mary stood at the top of the stairs, looking down. There was a kind of light, contemptuous smile on her face. Her eyes held that old arrogance that had never been able to accept Mikhail as a proper human being.

Monica looked at him and whispered,

"Maybe he came to talk, to fix everything..."

Mary curled her lips and laughed.

"To fix everything?"

There was sarcasm in her voice.

"When this man left our family, he thought he could do everything alone. Now that all the doors are closed, he's come back. You don't have to go. I'll handle it."

Monica was hurt, but she couldn't find anything to say. Part of her wanted him to go and ask - "How are you?" Another part was afraid – to find out what the reason was for this return.

Mary had already started to descend the stairs. Each step she took was confident, as if she knew that all the power in the house was now in her hands. The light from the chandeliers in the hall made her even more stern.

When she reached the door, she opened it with a slightly prepared smile.

Mikhail was standing outside.

His eyes were dusty and tired, but his gaze was strangely steady.

He was looking at the house as if every wall, every brick in this house was trying to tell him something about himself.

Mary opened the door and said the first thing she said,

“You have to come back eventually, don’t you?”

Her voice was sweet with a touch of poison.

“You said you wouldn’t come back to this house again, you wouldn’t live at the mercy of the Dixon family. Now I see that you need it again.”

Mikhail watched him silently for a few seconds.

His expression showed no desire to argue back like before.

Today he hadn't come to talk, he had come to calculate.

Mary took a step forward and said,

"What happened, Doctor? Got a new job? No one is impressed by your talent anymore? When you finally understand, you have nowhere to go but this house?"

Monica, who was standing above, was watching the scene. Hearing Mary's words, her face tightened, she clenched her hands in discomfort. She could tell that Mary was deliberately adding fuel to the fire. But she couldn't say anything.

Mikhail took a breath.

The fire burning inside him was not clearly visible on his face, but there was a slight tremor in the way he spoke.

"You're right," he said in a calm voice.

"I'm back. But don't ask for shelter."

Mary raised her eyebrows.

"Oh? So what? You've come to play in front of us again?"

Up until this moment, the scene had been seen from outside. The guards stood a little distance away, the workers watched everything uneasily from inside.

Monica took a step down the stairs and stopped, standing near the door, but still said nothing.

Mikhail's eyes suddenly hardened.

He slowly put his hand inside his jacket.

This scene happened so quickly that everything changed before anyone realized it.

The next moment, a gun appeared in his hand, and the muzzle of that gun was pointed straight at Mary's chest.

The air seemed to thicken for an instant.

Monica stopped on the steps, an almost muffled scream escaping her mouth –

“Mikhail! What are you doing?”

The guards instinctively moved, but there was clear hesitation in their eyes.

After all, he was once a member of this house, and his gaze was so intense that no one dared to jump directly.

There was no scream on Mikhail's face.

His voice was unusually low, but the fire in that low voice was felt to be sharper than the weapon.

“I had a question for you,” he said, his eyes fixed directly on Mary.

“Why did you let an innocent woman die?”

Mary's face broke into a moment of stillness. Her eyes moved quickly. But in the next second, she controlled herself.

She put a crooked smile on her lips and said,

“Are you starting your drama again? I don't understand anything you're saying.”

Mikhail didn't move the gun an inch.

“You understand very well,” his voice became even colder.

“The hospital. That patient. The orders you sent.

The nurse said everything.”

Mary laughed now with a clear dramatic tone.

"Are you serious, someone like you came to our house with a gun, believing a nurse's words?

Did I kill someone?

Do you know how big of a slander this is?"

Mikhail's lips trembled a little, but his gaze did not change.

"I didn't come to think about who would believe me.

I just came to find out – why did you do it."

Mary spread her arms a little, as if to prove herself innocent.

"You really are sick, Mikhail.

Even after the breakup, I thought you at least had a sense of reason.

Now I see, you've lost that too.

You were discharged from the hospital, and now you're trying to find someone to blame and blame us all."

Monica got down and stood by the door.

She was trembling with fear, but she stepped forward and said,

“Mikhail, please put down the gun.

What happened can be fixed by talking.

Not like this… please…”

Mikhail looked at her for a second.

There was fatigue, pain, broken trust – everything in that look.

She knew that the truth she brought today might not be something anyone wanted to hear.

Yet that truth was mixed with the blood in her veins today.

“You don’t know, Monica,” she said slowly.

“What your family has done.

Maybe these are just rumors to you, just misunderstandings.

But today an innocent woman died because of your interests.”

Monica said with a trembling voice,

“I really don’t know anything…Mother, what is she saying?”

Mary looked at Monica with an annoyed look.

“You shut up, Monica.

He’s unstable now.

There’s no need to give him too much importance.”

Then he turned back to Mikhail and said,

“Where’s your proof?

What did you hear the nurse say?

What are you going to say in court?

‘A nurse cried and told me a story, so I called the Dixon family murderers?’”

Mikhail gave a light, bitter smile.

“I didn’t come to court today.

I came to warn you today.”

The air inside the house was strangely tense.

No one was speaking, but everyone’s eyes were filled with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and distrust.

The guards took a step forward and then stopped again, as if they wouldn’t move unless someone gave them an order.

Mikhail slowly lowered his gun.

But the decision in his eyes was more dangerous than the gun.

He said in a low, yet clear voice,

“From today I have made a decision.

You have destroyed my life, you have destroyed my honor, and now you are not even sparing innocent people.

And I have only tolerated it so far, kept quiet.

But not from today.”

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, then pronounced clearly,

“From today all my energy, all my days, all my efforts will go in one direction –

to destroy the Dixon family.

Your name, your power, your walls of protection –

I will break everything down one by one.”