The Fallen Son-in-law: Rise To Power

chapter 17

Chapter 17

Mikhail stood there in silence even then. The atmosphere seemed to have frozen for a few seconds—Anthony stood before him, having already made his proposal and was now waiting for his decision.

Everyone was preoccupied with Rebecca's condition, but Mikhail could clearly sense the tense excitement quietly running through the situation. He always put others' well-being before his own, but today's circumstances seemed to confront him with a different kind of feeling.

Anthony said slowly,

"Mikhail, are you in? No one but you can save Rebecca."

Mikhail looked up. Though there was fatigue in his eyes, he had that same confident resolve Anthony had seen in him long ago. He took a breath, then said in a very calm voice,

"I'm in."

That one line sent a suppressed sound rippling through the room. Elvira let out a sigh of relief, and Anthony's eyes flashed a clear glimmer of gratitude. But Mary—her face seemed to blaze. Mikhail had agreed, and there was no hint of self-interest in his decision—that fact was unbearable to her.

Mary sneered,

"Of course he would! Another chance to act the part, to play the angel all over again!"

Before Mikhail could say anything, Elvira stepped forward. Her voice was controlled and firm, and her eyes held a sharpness Mary had rarely seen before.

"Enough, Mary. Mikhail isn't being dramatic. And you might want to think before you casually toss around comments about Rebecca's life."

There was such impatient determination in Elvira's voice that Mary paused for a few seconds. Even the people nearby could tell—once Elvira got angry, she wasn't easy to stop.

Anthony stepped forward and looked at Mikhail.

"I'll do whatever it takes for you. Tell me—what do you want? How much can I give you in exchange for the treatment?"

Anyone who knew Mikhail beforehand was certain he wouldn't ask for money. This was especially true for Monica, who was worried he would give everything away again, as he had in the past—her concerned expression made that clear.

Mikhail closed his eyes for a moment, searching within himself. In that instant, he pictured the small hospital run by Elvira's family—one that struggled daily to stay afloat. Mikhail had witnessed firsthand how much Elvira had fought to save her own family. Few people in his life had ever seen him as a real person, not just a familyless individual—Elvira was one of them.

In a softer tone, Mikhail said,

"I don't want any personal money. But… if you really want to do something… then fund the small hospital Elvira's family runs. They need that help."

The room fell silent. Anthony stared at Mikhail for a few seconds, and Mary's face held the look of someone whose voice had been taken away.

Monica stared at Mikhail, her eyes wide. She had thought he wouldn't ask for anything for himself, just like before, and she was right. But what he said surpassed even her expectations. Mikhail didn't speak for himself, but for Elvira's family—a family outsider who was trying to understand them.

Anthony laughed, surprised. This request from Mikhail felt like a strange honor.

"Done. I'll send the funds to them tonight. And if necessary, I'll take over the hospital's future as well."

The moment those words were spoken, Mary was shaking with rage. Her face had turned an unnatural shade of red. She screamed,

"What? You're going to give them money for a hospital? A public hospital? Elvira's family? Are you out of your mind, Anthony?"

Anthony didn't answer. A shadow of deep respect for Mikhail lingered in his eyes, and everyone could see that Anthony had made up his mind.

Mary turned back to Mikhail and hissed,

"You think you're so smart? You're going to divert the funds like this and send them to Elvira's house?"

Elvira couldn't take it anymore. She stood directly in front of Mary.

"Mary, can't you at least try to understand? Rebecca is a member of your family, and Mikhail is treating her. Can't you think of anything other than insults here?"

Mary rolled her eyes.

"Did someone tell you to speak?"

Elvira didn't laugh or get angry; she was so calm that Mary grew even more agitated.

"I'm speaking because you're crossing the line. Your baseless animosity toward Mikhail needs to stop today."

The moment she finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room grew even heavier. A burning resentment flickered in Mary's eyes, but the firm stance of Elvira, standing before her, silenced her.

Just as Anthony cleared his throat to speak, Mikhail said calmly,

"Anthony sir, we'll be leaving. I need to get to Rebecca."

Hearing this, everyone understood it was best not to prolong the debate. Anthony nodded in agreement.

"Yes, of course."

Mary was still not quiet. But this time, no one turned to her. Her words no longer mattered to anyone—as if she had suddenly vanished into a corner of the room.

Mikhail looked at Elvira, nodded once, and said,

"Let's go."

Elvira, without a word, started walking alongside him. Neither of them wore any extra expression on their faces—but their strides were firm, calm, and filled with a beautiful confidence. Anthony walked behind them, and in that moment, a shared feeling ran through the three of them—saving a child's life was the most important thing now.

Mary shouted from behind,

"You think walking away like this will end it? It's not that simple!"

But no one stopped. No one turned to answer. As if the words dissolved into the air, meaningless.

Elvira glanced back, but all she saw was Anthony's grim face, not Mary's. There was a quiet internal struggle in the way the three of them walked—they all knew today's decision was not just for Rebecca, but for their own self-respect as well.

Walking down the long hospital corridor, Mikhail felt—he hadn't wanted proof, nor any reward. He had only wanted to help where help was truly needed. And that very decision was what had caused so much unease in a person like Mary.

Elvira walked beside him, but for a moment, she was silent. Looking at Mikhail's face, she thought—the man was truly tired, but the determination in the depths of his eyes was something very few people possessed.

Anthony saw the two of them and said,

"Mikhail, I respect your decision. If you can save Rebecca, I will be forever grateful to you."

Mikhail stopped and looked at him.

"I'm doing my duty, sir. Fixing Rebecca is my job. I promise you this."

Anthony nodded and gave a small smile, as if he had finally regained his complete trust in a real person after a long time.

They stopped at the door to the room. Inside, Rebecca wasn't moving, but the doctors' hurried movements and the sound of their equipment indicated that preparations for treatment were underway.

Mikhail took a deep breath and went inside. Elvira stood behind him. Anthony stood a little ways away, watching with worried eyes for his child.

At that moment, Mikhail needed no other words. The man simply wanted to stand by Rebecca with his heart, his skill, and his sense of duty. Not for any reward, not for any pride—but simply out of a compulsion to do the right thing when it was needed.

And standing right there, it was proven—Mikhail had never thought of himself, but with every decision, he had earned the respect of the people.

Mary's commotion, insults, and malice were all fading into the background, and the three of them walked as if a new path were opening up before them.

---

A week had passed. The dawn in Kingsley felt different that day. Sunlight shimmered on the glass buildings, and one news story echoed across the city—Kingsley Hospital had reopened. A crowd of people had been gathering in front of the hospital since morning. Some came out of curiosity, some to see the new medical services, and some came to see the man who had revived an institution lost to patients—Dr. Mikhail Giordano.

The hospital gates were fully decorated. Blue and white balloons, new banners, and busy cameras outside—the whole atmosphere was festive. The city's news channels were broadcasting live. The banner bore the name in large letters—

"Kingsley Hospital – Reopening Ceremony"

Underneath it was clearly stated—

"Head of Hospital: Dr. Mikhail Giordano."

Those who knew Mikhail were stunned—the boy who was once seen only in the shadow of the Dixon family was now standing in his own name, taking on a massive responsibility. And those who knew Mikhail personally

They didn't know him; they too, hearing his name on the TV screen, wondered how such a big change had come about.

Mikhail stood in front of the hospital that morning wearing a white coat. His face was calm, but there was a glint of fulfillment in his eyes—small, yet genuine. After so long, he felt a touch of satisfaction. All the insults, failures, and misunderstandings that had touched him in life only seemed to make this moment all the more solid.

Elvira stood beside him—neat and confident, but with a slight thrill inside at today's occasion. She knew how hard Mikhail had fought to reach this point. Elvira had witnessed firsthand all the excitement, frustration, and anxiety of the past few weeks, and that was precisely why Mikhail's success brought her a special kind of joy today.

When the emcee introduced Mikhail, the audience applauded. Mikhail took the microphone and, in a very calm, measured voice, said,

"Kingsley Hospital holds many memories for the people of this city. Today, those doors are open again. I will strive to ensure that every person who comes here receives genuine medical care and compassion."

After hearing these few simple words, the crowd nodded in agreement. Mikhail never spoke in flowery language. His simplicity was unforgettable.

After the ceremony, reporters surrounded Mikhail. Microphones, cameras, and lights were all suddenly pointed at him.

A reporter asked,

"Dr. Mikhail, as the new head of Kingsley Hospital, you're the talk of the town. How does it feel?"

Mikhail said calmly,

"It's a responsibility. My work is just beginning now."

Another one immediately added,

"The people of the city believe you saved Kingsley. Especially since the Dixon family failed to secure the funds—what do you have to say about that?"

Mikhail sighed lightly and said,

"I don't want any comparisons. My job is to move the hospital forward."

Just as he was giving his restrained reply, a few reporters suddenly glanced at Elvira and smirked. They turned to Mikhail and lobbed a provocative question—

"Dr. Mikhail, many in town are saying you and Elvira make a great team, and more than that. Is it true?"

Elvira's eyes widened for a moment. She looked visibly uncomfortable.

Mikhail didn't flinch or get angry. Instead, he said very calmly,

"Elvira is my friend. Our relationship is based on professional and personal respect. Nothing more."

But it was impossible to stop the reporters then.

"You're always seen together. During last week's events, Elvira was by your side the entire time…"

Mikhail replied,

"It's not unusual to be by a friend's side."

Elvira looked at Mikhail. She could tell—Mikhail was handling the situation very maturely. His every word was carving out a respectful space for her.

Just then, a sharp voice suddenly drifted in from the street ahead.

"Mikhail!"

People turned. Reporters shifted their cameras. Moments later, the owner of that voice appeared—

Monica.

Her eyes were red, her face etched with exhaustion, yet her gaze was terrifyingly steady. Her hair was disheveled, and a palpable anger radiated from her. She strode straight over and stood in front of Mikhail.

A murmur went through the crowd—

"There's his ex-wife!"

"The Dixon family's daughter has arrived!"

The reporters were ecstatic. They surged forward, thrusting microphones in Monica's face.

Monica looked at Mikhail and said in a piercing voice,

"You have always deceived me, Mikhail!"

The entire place fell silent. The laughter, applause, and cheers that had been there just seconds before gave way to a cold, chilling fear.

Elvira froze. Mikhail's eyes narrowed slightly.

Monica screamed,

"Everyone listen! He cheated on me. He was with Elvira the whole time! He pretended to be a good husband in front of me, and behind my back, with this girl—"

Elvira took a step forward, but Mikhail raised his hand to stop her. His face showed not fear or shame—but deep surprise and shock.

Reporters thrust microphones toward Monica.

"Do you have proof?"

"Have Elvira and Mikhail been together since their wedding?"

"Is this the reason for your divorce?"

Monica pointed at Mikhail and said,

"You always said — 'family first.' Yet you kept me in the dark and got so close to Elvira!"

Elvira couldn't stay standing anymore. She moved to stand beside Mikhail, but said nothing. Her face was a clear picture of insult and hurt.

Mikhail fixed his gaze on Monica for the first time and said, "Monica, what you're saying isn't true." But Monica wasn't listening. "You've made a fool of me, Mikhail! Elvira was always by your side! In the name of that hospital, you two spent day and night together!"

The crowd grew even more crowded in an instant.

Someone pulled out a phone to record, while others watched the drama with curious eyes.

Reporters were firing questions like crazy—

"Dr. Mikhail, did you cheat?"

"Elvira, were you in a relationship with Mikhail?"

"Monica, will you press charges against Mikhail?"

Elvira looked at Mikhail's face—his eyes held the pain of insult, but no anger. Mikhail had always been like that, keeping a cool head even under unfair accusations.

But today was different—this wasn't a private conversation; it was a live telecast.

Monica tried to shout again,

"You betrayed my trust! You never kept Elvira away for a single day!"

The crowd was getting more rowdy. The situation was spiraling horribly out of control.

Security moved in, but they weren't sure what to do.

The reporters' shouts grew louder—

"Dr. Mikhail, what do you have to say?"

"Monica is lying?"

"What is the nature of your relationship with Elvira?"

Mikhail started to speak, then stopped. His head was slowly sinking into the receding lights, flashes, microphones, Monica's voice—everything. The moment was so unexpected, so ugly, happening in public—he couldn't find the words to stand up and explain himself.

Elvira stood, her hands clenched. She watched Mikhail—seeing how much this accusation was hurting him on the inside. This man had never raised his voice to defend his honor. And today, this very same man was being publicly humiliated.

Monica spoke again,

"Elvira—you tell them! How long has this been going on?"

Elvira slowly turned to look at Mikhail and took a step forward. Her face was trembling.

But before she could speak, someone from the crowd shouted,

"Monica is right! They're always seen together!"

The situation instantly became even more chaotic.

The TV cameras were broadcasting live—the entire city was watching the tumultuous scene.

Mikhail understood—this situation couldn't be stopped by words anymore.