The Price of Obedience

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules.

On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver.

She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship.

For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation.

For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city.

My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day.

"Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!"

"Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!"

Even then, I never gave up.

Until the final day.

I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery."

I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain.

Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less."

I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed.

My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant.

I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift.

Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime.

It seemed there was no need.

"Kian Reid, our family may not be an elite legacy, but in this city, we still carry some weight.

"My daughter Olivia is the one I cherish most. I’m not about to let her marry some spoiled, soft-handed boy."

At The Gilded Room, the most exclusive lounge in downtown, Diane Grant lifted spoonful after spoonful of truffle-infused cream soup. Her eyes were full of greed, yet she forced an air of restraint, carefully skimming the surface with her spoon without even bothering to look up.

She clearly didn’t belong in a place like this, yet she held her chin high, her tone dripping with pride and a sense of authority that left no room for argument.

Sitting across from her, I frowned slightly, the smile at the corner of my lips turning stiff.

Olivia and I had been college classmates. We’d been in a steady and serious relationship for four years.

After graduation, meeting the parents had been the natural next step. Marriage was already on the table.

I had assumed, given my background and everything I brought to the table, that this meeting would be