The Njeri family villa sat in Karen, surrounded by manicured lawns and guarded gates. It was the kind of home that screamed old money—tasteful, but intimidating in its quiet luxury.
Lydia had grown up here.
But tonight, as she walked up the marble steps with Ethan by her side, she felt like an intruder.
She'd begged him not to come.
But Ethan had just looked at her with that same calm expression and said, "If they want to see me, I'll come."
---
The butler opened the door and stared at Ethan for a moment too long. His eyes flickered over the plain white shirt, the cheap shoes, the scuffed watch on Ethan's wrist.
Then the butler smirked faintly and stepped aside.
"This way," he said curtly.
---
Inside, the dining room glowed under a chandelier.
Miriam Njeri sat at the head of the long mahogany table, elegant as ever in a silk blouse. Patrick sat beside her, swirling a glass of red wine.
They both turned when Lydia and Ethan entered.
Miriam's eyes immediately narrowed.
---
"So," Miriam said coolly, setting down her wine glass. "This is the man you chose to marry."
Her gaze flicked over Ethan like he was a piece of cheap furniture.
"Plain. Unimpressive. Just as I expected."
---
Patrick leaned back in his chair, his expression dripping with disdain.
"I assumed you were joking when you sent us the marriage certificate," he said. "But here you are, proving just how foolish you've become."
He let his eyes linger on Ethan's worn-out shoes.
"You couldn't even find someone with decent clothes? Is this your idea of a husband, Lydia?"
---
Lydia's cheeks burned.
"Dad—" she began softly, but he raised his hand to silence her.
"No. Don't defend him. You humiliated this family in front of everyone. You were rejected at a wedding and then… you married this?"
His voice cut like a blade.
---
Miriam's lips curled in a faint smile.
"I should've known," she said, her tone mocking. "You always had a soft spot for stray dogs."
She tilted her head slightly, looking directly at Ethan.
"Tell me, son-in-law, what exactly do you do for a living? Or should I say—what don't you do?"
---
Ethan didn't flinch. He simply met her gaze, his calm eyes revealing nothing.
"I help people when I can," he said quietly.
Patrick barked a harsh laugh.
"Help people? What nonsense is that? So you're unemployed. A leech."
He turned to Lydia.
"See what you've brought into this house? A man who has nothing to offer you. No money. No name. No connections. Not even a future."
---
Lydia lowered her gaze, shame and frustration swirling inside her.
She wanted to defend Ethan. To say something. But she had nothing. She barely even knew him.
And yet… despite the insults, Ethan stood there, shoulders relaxed, expression steady.
He wasn't angry. He wasn't ashamed.
He just… was.
---
The butler brought dinner—imported steak, wine older than Lydia herself.
Miriam didn't even look at Ethan as she spoke.
"You can sit. But don't expect to eat much. Men like you should know your place."
---
Ethan quietly pulled out a chair for Lydia first. Then he sat beside her, unfazed.
Patrick poured himself another glass of wine and smirked.
"Tell me, Ethan… what do you think you can give my daughter? She grew up with wealth. Comfort. She's used to a certain lifestyle. Can you provide that with your… helping-people nonsense?"
---
Ethan placed his hands calmly on the table.
"She doesn't need to ask for anything," he said quietly.
Patrick's brows furrowed.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Ethan said evenly, "if she ever truly needs something, she'll have it."
---
Miriam laughed softly—a sharp, cold sound.
"Oh, how noble. How poetic. But let me guess—you'll give it to her with what? Kind words? You can't even buy her a decent dress, can you?"
She leaned back, her tone turning crueler.
"Do you even know what she likes? What she's used to? Or are you just her convenient rebound after Adrian dumped her?"
---
Lydia flinched at the words.
"Mom, stop—"
But Patrick slammed his hand on the table.
"No. Let him speak. Let this… nobody tell us why he thinks he deserves to be part of this family."
---
The room went quiet.
Everyone stared at Ethan.
And he just… smiled faintly.
"I didn't marry Lydia for your family," he said simply. "I married her for her."
---
Patrick burst out laughing.
Miriam shook her head.
"Pathetic. Truly pathetic," she muttered.
Patrick wiped the corner of his eyes from laughter.
"You know what, Miriam? Let's test him. Let's see if he can do one simple thing to prove he's not completely useless."
---
Miriam's eyes glinted.
"What are you thinking?"
Patrick smirked and looked at Ethan.
"My company is hosting a gala tomorrow. All the people who matter will be there. Business leaders, investors, politicians. You're invited, son-in-law."
He leaned forward, his smirk turning into a sneer.
"Bring Lydia something worthy to wear. Something that won't embarrass us. If you can even afford a dress that costs more than the waiter's shoes, I might believe you're not a complete failure."
---
Miriam smiled thinly.
"Yes. Let's see if you can provide even the bare minimum. Or if you're exactly what you look like—a man with nothing."
---
Lydia's heart pounded.
She wanted to tell them no, to tell them this wasn't fair.
But Ethan just nodded calmly.
"All right," he said.
---
Patrick smirked, satisfied.
"Good. We'll see you both tomorrow. Don't embarrass us further."
---
As they left the villa, Lydia kept her eyes on the ground.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "They… they shouldn't have treated you like that."
Ethan looked at her gently.
"They're only seeing what they want to see," he said.
He opened the car door for her.
"They'll learn eventually."
---
Far away, in a private luxury suite at the Fairmont, a man in a black suit handed a tablet to his superior.
"It's begun. Young Master Ethan was insulted at the Njeri villa tonight. They think he's poor."
The man in the leather chair looked out the window over the city skyline, his fingers steepled.
"Let them," he said calmly.
"When he decides to reveal who he truly is… they won't even be worthy to kneel."