"Baby, keep it down. My husband's home."
In a luxurious villa, Declan Harrison paused by the bedroom door and caught hushed voices from inside the room.
The voice was unmistakable to him. It was Khloe Harrison, his wife.
"And what's a man in his condition going to do even if he hears? Don't worry about him, sweetheart," an unfamiliar voice replied.
As Declan stood there, supported by his crutch, a wave of emotion washed over him.
Fury clouded his judgment.
A resounding crash echoed in the villa. Declan had used his crutch to force the door open.
Inside the room, a man and Khloe were making out.
"Khloe, how could you?!" Declan asked in anguish, his hands balled into fists.
Khloe raised an eyebrow and coldly said, "Remember, you're just an orphan my grandfather took pity on, and you're living off my family's fortune. You can't even find a job. Had Grandpa not insisted, why would I have married a worthless person like you, considering you're a cripple?"
"I crippled my leg saving you!" Declan shouted at Khloe, his eyes brimming with tears.
"You, trash, consider yourself lucky. That leg was a small price for my life!" Khloe spat out with pure disdain.
Standing aside, Austin Watson smirked and chimed in, "How dare you use a favor like that to demand something from Khloe? If you talk back again, you'll be hopping on no legs."
"Always the big-hearted billionaire, Austin. Only asking for a leg from this nobody," Khloe quipped, playing to his ego.
Austin chuckled heartily. "Of course."
Khloe turned her attention back to Declan and demanded with utter derision, "Get out of my room, you loser."
Her expression was that of undisguised superiority. To her, Declan was like nothing more than a pest.
"While Austin is sealing deals with powerhouses like the Davis family from Lorphis, you're just clinging to the coattails of my family's name."
"Why bother telling him that? He probably doesn't even know how important the Davis family in Lorphis is," Austin remarked contemptuously.
Although Declan was not deeply entrenched in business affairs, the wealth and influence of the Davis family were common knowledge. They were worth trillions.
"Stay away from my wife!" Declan demanded, fury blazing in his eyes.
"You dare meddle in my affairs? What's a crippled man like you gonna do?" Austin retorted with a sneer.
Declan said nothing. However, he was visibly shaking from anger, and his hands were balled into fists.
Austin furrowed his brow and questioned, "What are you gonna do?"
"I'll fight you!" Declan lunged and brandished his crutch at Austin.
The latter, quick on his feet, evaded Declan's attack and landed a powerful punch on his jaw, sending him crashing down.
"You think you, a cripple, can stand up to me?" Austin scoffed, pointing and laughing at Declan's plight.
"Damn you!" Declan swung his crutch and managed to strike Austin's leg, which ignited his temper.
"You cripple, How dare you hit me? I'll fucking kill you!" Austin stomped on Declan's crutch, breaking it, and then spat on Declan's face.
That evening, Declan was thrown out of the gates of the Scott family's residence.
At this moment, he struggled to his feet and stared at the closed gates with his fists clenched.
His nails dug into his flesh, which resulted in bleeding palms.
However, Declan seemed oblivious to the pain. His heart was consumed with a seething desire to charge back into the house and exact revenge on the two.
But the fire in him slowly dimmed. His grip loosened, and a vacant look replaced the anger in his eyes.
"I'm just a cripple. I can't even beat Austin. What can I do?" Declan said to himself.
Lost in thought, he limped his way to the street.
Suddenly, the sharp sound of a car horn pierced the air.
Declan turned and saw a high-end car barreling toward him.
It was a Maserati, a luxury ride with a starting price of $200, 000.
With a violent crash, Declan was hurled a distance, and his cherished ring was smeared with his blood.
This ring, a memento from his parents, now pulsed with a captivating red glow upon contact with his blood and seamlessly fused into Declan's being.