Chapter 4: The Smut Family's Plot

Words : 1924 Updated : Nov 6th, 2025

Margaret had never liked Jason. She had turned him down more times than she cared to count, yet he still refused to let go. What she couldn't understand was why, when she already loved someone else, her grandfather insisted on marrying her off to a man she didn't want. Did the older generation really have to drag their grudges into the future and make her pay with her happiness? Zander noticed her frown. "Margaret, do you regret running out of the engagement party with me?" She shook her head. "I don't. Getting engaged to Jason was never my choice. I'm just afraid Grandpa will be upset." "Your grandpa is so old-school. It's the 21st century! Who still forces an arranged marriage? Even if he and my grandpa were at odds back in the day, that's no reason to dump that baggage on us." He bristled, jaw clenched. "Don't worry," Zander said, "I already talked to my grandpa. He's all for us. He even said that once I marry you, whatever went on between him and your grandpa will be water under the bridge." Margaret murmured her agreement, polite and noncommittal. She knew her grandfather; nothing ended that easily. Zander picked up on how half-hearted she sounded and doubled down. "In a few days, I'll come over and ask your family for your hand. Even if your grandfather says no, I'm sure your dad and your mom will agree." She nodded, not arguing. Running out on the engagement had been impulsive, no matter how carefully she'd tried to justify it in her mind. When Zander showed up at the venue, travel-worn and without any disguise, part of her had bloomed. She was the eldest daughter of the Santee family, raised on the family's largesse. Every stitch she wore, every lesson she'd taken, had been paid for by their name. To shed all that with a single sentence was something she simply couldn't do. She wanted a marriage blessed by her family. If Zander hadn't burst into that ballroom, she might have bowed to her grandfather's will and drifted through a lifetime with a man she didn't love, day after dim day. She would have been safe. She just wouldn't have been happy. Walking out of the banquet had been the bravest thing she'd ever done. "Come meet my grandfather," Zander suggested. "He'll take our side." "Zander, I know my grandfather. That would only pour oil on the fire. Give me some time. I'll try to persuade him. And Jason deserves an explanation, at least a word." Margaret didn't like Jason, and his bulldog persistence had curdled into something she found distasteful. Even so, after what she'd done, she owed her nominal fiancé at least a proper explanation. Zander had never taken Jason seriously. He'd already looked into the guy: abandoned at an orphanage door as a baby, with no money and no connections, decent grades and not much else. Just a pawn Salvatore had dragged into the game. If Jason hadn't been Margaret's fiancé, he'd never have had a chance to even meet Zander. "At worst, we pay him off and he walks," Zander said, a faint curl of contempt in his voice for "a man like that." Margaret felt a pang of guilt and admitted that compensation sounded fair. "Let's leave it at that for today," she said. "You're a superstar. Your schedule's packed. Don't mess up your work because of me. I need to talk to Grandpa." She glanced at her phone. Dozens of missed calls from her grandfather and her parents. But not one from Jason. That surprised her. Her stance made Zander back down. After all, there was no need to rush. "All right. I'll drive you." She smiled and declined. Zander was a public figure. He usually wore a cap and a mask. Showing up at her engagement without a disguise had already caused a stir. If he dropped her off, the tabloids would feast on it for days. After she left, Zander's phone rang. "How did it go?" The voice on the line was old and authoritative. "Don't worry, Grandpa," Zander said. "Margaret and I are solid. She's just hesitant because of her grandfather's arrangements." The caller was Ethan Smut, the Smut family patriarch. Unlike Salvatore, he was eager to tie the two families together. A chuckle came through the line. "Salvatore is an old fox. I know how his mind works. Ignore him. You did right by tipping off the reporters to stake out the hotel. Public pressure is a fine tool." Reporters didn't just show up out of nowhere. Zander had fed them the time and place in advance, and with his clout in the entertainment world, it had been child's play. Their goals were twofold. First, to whip up a storm that forced the Santee family to accept Zander and Margaret's match. Second, a move straight out of Ethan's playbook: a blow to the Santee family's authority in Anville. However you spun it, the Santee heiress running away mid-ceremony was a scandal. They meant to drag that embarrassment out into broad daylight. What they didn't yet know was what Jason had said about them at the venue. For now, they still imagined that leaning on public opinion would work. Once they saw the coverage, they'd be left gaping at Jason's brazen nerve. "Turn the heat up with the media," Ethan went on. "And start with that useless live-in son-in-law the Santee family keeps around. Men without power or backing are easy to handle. Give him a scare, then sweeten the deal, and let him go beg Salvatore to call it off." He wanted to use Salvatore's handpicked son-in-law to slap him in the face. "Salvatore Santee," Ethan sneered inwardly, "you'd rather bring a mediocrity into your family than let your granddaughter marry my grandson? Did it occur to you that a man with no background is easy for you to control, and just as easy for us to squeeze? A few bucks can make a poor man cave." It might not hurt much, but it was deeply insulting. "Got it, Grandpa. I'll handle it." Jason, meanwhile, had no idea he'd been targeted without even lifting a finger. When the banquet ended, he headed straight for the nearest bookstore and bought an armful of social science books. The memories he'd inherited were far from perfect; even common facts in this world felt blurred at the edges. He had to cram, and quickly. Everything related to Margaret, however, lived sharp as glass in his mind. He couldn't help grumbling at the body's previous owner. "Seriously, man, is that all you thought about for years? Women?" At least he still remembered his card PIN and his mobile payment passwords, or he wouldn't have had money for dinner. But when he checked the account balance, the smile slid off his face. His assets totaled only $813.26. So much for being a wealthy family's live-in son-in-law. Were rich families this stingy these days? He remembered his previous life; some of his own disciples had become live-in sons-in-law to powerful clans. They hadn't stood at the top, but at least they'd traveled by Immortal Boat, eaten delicacies, and collected a monthly stipend of spirit stones and pills. The body's previous owner had managed to be both a son-in-law and broke. Enough. He told himself that tomorrow he'd figure out his future father-in-law's weak spots and ask for what he needed. By the time he paid for the books, his account had dropped to single digits. The world he lived in now was wildly different from the one he'd known before. Whether the lofty Cultivation World or the common mortal one, none of it looked like this neon maze. He needed to understand it, and books were the surest way in.

Chapter 4: The Smut Family's Plot

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