The Fallen Son-in-law: Rise To Power

chapter 15

Chapter 15

Mary woke up early that day. On normal days, she loved to enjoy the morning laziness, but today was different. She had to go to the airport, and not just go—with her only daughter, calculating everything, keeping all her postures in order, and standing in a way that would make their family look the most stable, reliable, and future-proof to Anthony Clark. Because this is the man who can bring them the biggest funding for their hospital.

The Milan airport in Italy has been busy since morning. The sky outside was hazy, the light was reflected on the airport's glass walls. The wings of large airplanes were glistening in the sunlight. Mary and Monica slowly walked towards the VIP lounge, where the atmosphere was even more stressful, although the crowd was smaller than usual. Everyone here had come for some important reason, but today Mary was thinking to herself—the most important thing in this lounge was hers.

Monica was getting annoyed standing next to her. She had little tolerance, especially for crowds or waiting. She said softly once,

“Mom, I don’t like standing here. If I stand like this, in the future, someone will think that the Dixon family’s daughters are waiting at the airport!”

Although Mary was annoyed inside, she didn’t want to lose her polite demeanor. She lowered her voice and said,

“How many times have I told you, today is not the day to complain. This is a very important moment. You will take over our hospital one day—for that, today’s waiting, this patience, this humility… everything is needed.”

Monica stood there, biting her lip, trying to control her anger. Her gaze kept wandering around the different people at the airport—some in business attire, some with their families, some just enjoying the trip. She liked to feel different among so many people, so she didn’t like standing in this ordinary environment.

But Mary was watching her every move today. She reminded her daughter herself—

“The way you look today, the way you walk, the way you talk… Anthony Clark will notice everything. If you make even the slightest mistake, he could lose interest in us.”

Monica took a deep breath, as if she was steadying herself.

“Okay, Mom. But I hope that man won’t be too late.”

Mary looked at her watch and said,

“His flight has landed. He’ll be out any minute.”

There were still all sorts of sounds around her—announcements, the grinding of wheels as people pushed trolleys, the beeping of security scanners—all of which were creating a sense of restlessness.

But Mary kept her attention fixed on the noise. Her eyes were fixed on the gate, as if she would start planning Anthony Clark’s reception and introductions as soon as he came out.

After a while, movement began in front of the gate. A few foreigners came out first. Mary was looking at everyone with great attention, because she recognized Anthony's face from the photo.

Finally, a tall, handsome man slowly emerged from the crowd. A neat navy-blue suit, a perfectly knotted tie, a briefcase in one hand, and a little girl's hand in the other.

Mary knew instantly—this was Anthony Clark. And the child standing next to him—was definitely Rebecca.

Mary didn't waste a moment. She stepped forward quickly and said with a bright, serious, respectful smile,

"Mr. Clark! Welcome to Italy. I'm Mary Dixon. It's really nice to see you."

Anthony gave a very tight, polite smile.

"Mrs. Dixon, I came to accept your hospitality. I hope your city won't disappoint me."

Despite the politeness of his voice, there was a note of caution, which is typical of business people. She was not easily influenced by anyone's words—she spoke from such a distance.

At this time, Mary introduced her daughter standing next to her,

“This is my daughter, Monica. She will handle a large part of the responsibility of our hospital in the future.”

Monica extended her hand in a beautiful, polite manner and said,

“It is good to see you, Mr. Clark. I have heard a lot about the success of your business.”

Anthony nodded gently.

“Thank you. I hope your family will not disappoint me too much.”

Then she looked at the little girl next to her, as if she were cut off from all the sounds of the world. Rebecca stood there, wearing a little coat and holding her father's hand tightly. There was fear, insecurity, and a kind of silent anxiety in her eyes—there were no words, but it was clear that she was feeling a lot.

Mary lowered her voice and said softly,

“Hi, Rebecca… how are you?”

Rebecca didn't answer. She just stared at Mary with wide eyes.

Monica whispered quickly,

“Mom, she doesn't talk. Why are you asking me that?”

Mary immediately gave her a stern look,

“Shut up now. Don't talk like that.”

Then she turned to Anthony and said in a deep, sympathetic tone,

“I know your daughter's situation is very difficult… mute from birth—it must have taken a lot out of you.”

Anthony's eyes suddenly became a little dull.

“Yes. We have been to many places, to many doctors… but so far there has been no improvement. We have tried everything, but nothing seems to be working.”

Mary now used her most powerful weapon—fake sympathy, presented as genuine.

“It must be very stressful for you. What you are doing as a father is very admirable.”

With these words, Anthony revealed a real human weakness for the first time. His voice softened a little.

Mary immediately went to the second step of her plan.

“I want to tell you something… our hospital has some of the best neurology teams in Europe. We have successfully managed some complex cases. I cannot promise you, but we will take Rebecca’s case very seriously.”

Monica also added,

“If you want, we can do a preliminary assessment in the next few days. The treatment may be a long process, but we can tell you in great detail where the problem is, what the chances are.”

Anthony listened to the two of them silently. In a very short time, hope, doubt, and disbelief were all forming in his eyes.

“Do you think my daughter’s condition is likely to improve?”

Mary nodded slowly.

“We’ll do everything we can. And you’re a responsible father—you deserve to know every possibility.”

That was the only thing that broke Anthony’s inner wall. He took a deep breath and said,

“Okay. I agree. When do you propose to meet?”

Mary quickly replied,

“If you have time tomorrow afternoon, we’ll have the entire medical board ready.”

Anthony nodded in agreement.

A small glimmer of triumph appeared in Mary’s eyes.

The man who was so hard to find—the man who was asking for their help today of his own free will.

“Thank you, Mr. Clark,” Mary said, her voice confident and controlled.

“We won’t let you down.”

Anthony looked at them one last time and said,

“I hope so, Mrs. Dixon. I’m giving you a chance. I hope you’ll prove yourself worthy.”

---

Elvira took a deep breath as the car stopped in front of the hospital. The place wasn’t new to her, but today, the feeling of entering this familiar building felt different.

As soon as she stepped through the glass door, the cold air of the air conditioner hit her, and she saw the long corridor, the white walls, the few patients, the nurses walking hurriedly—everything seemed a little too cramped, a little too heavy.

Elvira’s heels echoed softly throughout the corridor. She gripped the file in her hand tighter, even though the papers inside weren’t that important today. Her real purpose in coming was one thing—to talk to Mikhail face to face.

Asking the receptionist at the desk downstairs, she learned that Mikhail was in a room upstairs, almost curled up. The elevator doors were closed.

Before she did, she looked at her face in the mirror. Elvira, who was always confident and cool, was feeling a little anxious today, but she didn't want to show it to anyone.

She stopped in front of the designated room after getting off the elevator. Her chest felt a little heavy as she thought about the kind of face the man had on the other side of the door. She knocked on the door very lightly.

There was no answer from inside. She knocked again a little harder. After a while, a voice in a very tired voice said,

"Come in..."

Elvira slowly opened the door and entered.

The chamber wasn't very big. The window curtains were slightly drawn, the light was dim inside, some files were scattered haphazardly on the table... and behind that table was Mikhail. He was sitting leaning back in his chair, with a hint of sleepiness in his eyes, his hair a little disheveled, and even though he had a stethoscope around his neck, that professional air had disappeared. A combination of fatigue and suppressed anger was evident on his face.

Elvira closed the door and said softly,

“Hi, Mikhail…”

Mikhail looked up. For a moment, he seemed to be unable to understand who had come. Then, slowly, he understood and nodded very gently.

“Elvira… you?”

There was a strange mix of surprise and dullness in her voice.

Elvira walked over and sat down on the sofa and looked at him.

“Yes, it’s me. You’re wondering why I’m here in such a busy time, aren’t you?”

Mikhail lowered his gaze once more.

“You’re busy… there’s no need to waste time coming to these places.”

Elvira didn’t like that at all.

“Don’t talk like that, Mikhail. You know very well that I’m not a person like that. I want to know what happened to you. Why do you look like you’ve seen everything fall apart?”

Mikhail gave a small smile, but there was no warmth in that smile.

“What’s the point of knowing everything, Elvira? Would knowing everything change anything?”

Elvira sat silent, but her eyes didn’t move. She just stared, her gaze sharp, steady, questioning.

“Listen,” she said quietly, “you’d be wrong to think of me as just a business acquaintance. We’ve known each other for years. If something really bad has happened in your life, at least I’m a friend who knows.”

There was a firmness in her voice that was stronger than words.

Mikhail sat up a little straighter in his chair. He put his hands on the table, was silent for a few moments, as if he was trying to convince himself—say it or not.

Finally, he said slowly,

“You know, there was a person in my life who was like a grandmother… not a real grandmother, but someone who was there for me when there was no one in the world. Whose little care, sharing a little food, patting my head—everything reminded me that I wasn’t alone.”

His voice trailed off. The anger and sadness that had been gathering in the corners of his eyes gathered together.

“That man is no more,” he said in a low voice. “And he wasn’t just gone… he was taken. He was taken by that woman whose name you’ve heard so many times—Mary.”

The air in the room seemed to stop. Surprise and anger flared up in Elvira’s eyes.

“What do you mean? What did Mary do?”

Mikhail didn’t want to go into too much detail about the whole incident. His goal was to convey the weight of the statement, he didn’t have the strength to open up the details of the bloody memories right now.

So he just briefly told the main part of the incident—how Mary’s greed, power, and cold-blooded plan had led to the loss of that grandmother-like man; how Mary had used an innocent woman as a scapegoat to gain her own advantage; how she had suppressed everything with the power of the law, influence, and money.

The events on his face were more evident in the fire in his eyes than in his words. He spoke briefly, but each word was weighty. Elvira listened with alert eyes. She had heard Mary's name in many ways before—various kinds of intrigue, cunning, calculation.

With determination. But hearing the story of someone's death, like this, as a result of such a cold-blooded act, made her body tremble.

" She ended an old, helpless person… like this?” – the disbelief and anger in his voice were clear.

Mikhail pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Yes. Even if it wasn't in front of my eyes, he hit me at a point in my life where I couldn't do anything. She knows that I'm no longer in the same strong position as before. She knows that it's hard for me to stand up to her. And she's using this knowledge the most.”

For a few moments, complete silence fell inside the chamber. Only a few sounds could be heard from the corridor in the distance—someone walking, someone talking, the wheels of a trolley turning.

A fire was burning inside Elvira at that moment.

“I always knew that Mary wasn't a good person. But like this…!”

She didn't finish the sentence. She just took a deep breath and tried to control her inner anger.

Mikhail was still looking at the table.

“You came, you heard me—I don’t want more than that. You’re a busy person, you have a thousand things of your own to do. I don’t want to burden you with this dark part of my life.”

Elvira didn’t accept that in response.

“Do you think I’m here just to satisfy my curiosity? If I call you a friend, your pain becomes a part of me too. The more you think I’ll stay away, the more times you’ll be proven wrong.”

There was firmness in his voice, and clear anger in his eyes—not just towards Mary, but towards all the injustices that repeatedly crush people.

At this moment, his mobile phone suddenly rang. He picked up the phone with mild annoyance. His assistant’s name was flashing on the screen.

“Just a second,” he said and received the call.

“Yes, tell me.”

A worried, hurried voice came from the other side,

“Ma’am, I’m updating you—Mr. Anthony Clark has already arrived in the city.”

Elvira frowned slightly,

“I know that. He was supposed to come to our hospital this afternoon, right?”

The assistant said in one breath,

“Actually, the thing is, ma’am… he didn’t come here directly. He went to the Dixon family’s hospital first. I heard that he’s talking to them first about his daughter’s treatment—with Mary Dixon.”

The words seemed to hit him straight in the chest.

“What?”, Elvira said through clenched teeth. There was a suppressed surprise and anger in her voice.

“He was our guest. He came at our invitation. So why did she go to them first?”

The only response from the other side was,

“We don’t know anything for sure, ma’am. I just heard that their representatives went straight from the airport and received him.”

Elvira tightened her grip on the phone.

“Okay, I understand. You don’t do anything now. I’ll see for myself.”

She hung up and slowly put the phone down on the table. Her jaw had hardened, the lines on her face had become sharper. There was a clear fire in her eyes.

Mikhail noticed her changed face.

“What happened?” – she asked calmly, although the answer was predictable.

Elvira said coldly,

“Remember, I told you, Anthony Clark is our guest? We invited him a long time ago, to discuss his daughter’s treatment. We were supposed to come to the hospital this afternoon. Now I hear that he went straight to Dixon Hospital. Mary took the opportunity to go and pick him up from the airport in advance.”

She shook her head with a slight smile, annoyed.

"Great, isn't it? Our guests, our plans, and ultimately all the credit are going to them. And besides, the person who came at our invitation is leaning towards them first—it's not just a loss of business for me, it's also an insult."

Mikhail was listening intently. Wherever Mary's name came up, his own wounds, his own anger, were also rising. But his voice was steady.

“Mary would do that. She would never let anyone else have the respect, gratitude… anything she deserved. No matter what, she would put herself in the middle of everything—that's her nature.”

Elvira's eyes darkened a little.

“I understand."

Two kinds of feelings were fighting in his chest at that moment—on the one hand, feeling humiliated by Mary's dirty game, and on the other, the fear of losing an important tycoon like Anthony Clark. But beneath this fear, a different force was at work—he was not the kind of person to give up everything like that.

He stood up, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“I'm going to their hospital right now. At least I'll remind her who invited her in the first place. And I'll explain to Mary that I don't fall so easily.”

As he started to walk towards the door, Mikhail raised a hand to stop him. Elvira stopped and looked at him.

Mikhail's face had a kind of sharp, deep expression on it. He said slowly,

"Elvira... if you ever have a direct confrontation with Mary and Monica Dixon—don't forget me. Call me whenever you feel the need. I have enough reason to go against them. If you ever need me, I will be there."

Although the words were spoken in a very calm, controlled tone, there was a different kind of fire in his eyes. That fire was the fire of revenge—the intense desire to avenge long-standing injustice and loss.

Elvira stared into his eyes for a moment. She saw not only anger there, but a purpose for living—the purpose that keeps people going even in the midst of hardship, not allowing them to break down.

She thought that this fire might come in handy one day. The business world requires strategy, but sometimes the will to fight within a rebellious, indomitable person can also become a weapon.

He shook his head slowly.

“I’ll remember. You’re right, maybe one day I’ll really need you. The day I feel like I can’t fight alone, I’ll call you.”

A small, painful, but genuine smile played on Mikhail’s lips.

“I’ll wait for that phone call,” he said.