After My Son's Death, I Destroyed The Wealthy Family

It was raining the day my wife drove our son to his college entrance exam.

Midway through the drive, she sudcdenly turned the car around and rushed to the hospital—leaving our son behind in the downpour.

She was pregnant. With her assistant's child.

My son couldn’t find a taxi. He ran in the rain, desperate not to be late.

He never made it.

A car struck him.

By the time I got the call and rushed to the hospital, he was already gone.

As I stood there, stunned, choking on my grief, my wife—Serena Portman—called me.

“Darling, I’m pregnant,” she said cheerfully. “It’s Ricky Joshua’s.”

“I drank too much that night on the business trip. But this child is still mine… I have to keep it.”

“You’ve always wanted a daughter, right? If it’s a girl, you can raise her.”

She continued, “Ricky’s thrilled—it’s his first time becoming a father. He wants to be there through it all. I’ll be staying with him for a while.”

“But don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you and our son when I get back.”

I wiped away my tears, steadied my voice and answered, “Mm.”

After my son’s funeral, I drafted the divorce papers and made a phone call.

“You’ve always wanted to bring down the Portman Family,” I said. “I won’t stop you anymore.”

——

The voice on the other end chuckled, doubtful.

“Mr. Addison, you’re the king of New York’s elite. Don’t joke. You’ve protected the Portman Family in secret for twenty years. Why would you suddenly let go?”

“I’m divorcing her.”

A pause. Then a stunned, eager response.

“You’re serious?”

“Back then, every heiress in New York was dying to marry you, but you snubbed them all just to marry into the thirdrate Portman Family. You even made Serena the wealthiest woman in the province. And now you’re just… letting her go?”

I didn’t explain. I only said, “Don’t ask why. From now on, the Portman Family is on their own.”

The voice laughed in satisfaction.

“I’ve waited years to hear that. Serena always thought she was untouchable. If not for your protection, I’d have crushed her long ago.”

“Since you’re getting divorced, I’ll prepare a nice surprise for her at tomorrow’s Portman Group celebration.”

I had just hung up when Serena returned.

She hadn’t been home in three days.

She burst through the door and headed straight to our son’s room. Finding it empty, she turned to me.

“Why isn’t my son home?” she asked sharply.

“It’s fine for him to relax after his exam, but staying out this late? My son shouldn't be so wild.”

My gaze lingered on the strawberry mark on her neck.

“Do you even remember you have a son?” I said coldly.

She frowned, ready to lash out—but caught herself. Her tone softened.

“He’s still upset about me leaving him that day, isn’t he?”

“When he gets home, I’ll talk to him. He always listens to me. He won’t blame me.”

Yes. Her son always listened.

Because he knew how much she cared about grades, he stayed up late every night studying.

He was always top of his class.

Just the night before the exam, he told me with pride that he would get into Harvard or Columbia University—to make his mother proud.

And yet, it was his beloved mother who left him behind on the most important day of his life.

She caused his death.

I couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he must’ve felt when she kicked him out of the car that morning.

Fighting back tears, I said hoarsely, “You won’t be able to wait for him anymore.”

Her face darkened. “You’re his father. Don’t make a scene like him.”

Then, as if granting me a favor, she tossed a delicate gift box into my hands.

“Ricky’s a firsttime dad. He’s really clingy right now and can’t stand to be apart from me.”

"From now on, I’ll only be home one day a week. Can you understand that?"

She had abandoned our son on the most important day of his life.

She carried another man's child.

She went off on a romantic getaway as if nothing had happened.

And now she wanted my understanding?

Looking at the arrogant glint in her eyes, I suddenly wondered—how had I loved this woman for twenty years?

I calmly set the divorce agreement I had prepared in advance on the table.

“Sign it,” I said coldly. “Then you and Ricky can live happily ever after.”

Serena’s expression changed. Her face twisted with disdain.

“I must’ve spoiled you too much. Now this useless soninlaw of mine thinks he’s someone important. Without me, your whole family would be begging on the streets.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

She really believed the Portman Family had risen because of her?

She really thought I had been depending on her all these years?

I didn’t bother correcting her delusions. I simply said, “I’m determined to divorce you.”

Seeing I was serious, Serena flew into a rage.

“What the hell are you talking about? Our son would never agree to this divorce.”

She snatched the papers off the table and shouted,

“If you want a divorce, fine—let our son come and tell me himself!”

Then she stormed off, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

In the past, whenever she lost her temper, I would swallow my pride and give in.

But not this time.

I signed the divorce papers on the spot and walked away without looking back.

The next day, I went to the funeral home to see my son's coffin.

I planned to return to the Addison family estate in New York and bury him there—at home, where he belonged.

Just as I was about to leave, my phone rang.

It was Serena.

“You can sulk all you want,” she snapped, “but don’t take my son out all night. Today is the 30th anniversary of the Portman Group. I’m going to announce him as the heir. Bring him here immediately.”

I stared at my son laid stiffly and then replied evenly, “Alright. I’ll bring him over right away.”

Back then, I had met Serena in college.

She was cornered on the rooftop by a gang of arrogant young women from prominent New York families.

Even as they beat her, she clenched her teeth and refused to beg for mercy.

Bloody, bruised and trembling—she still stood tall.

I thought she had backbone.

So I stepped forward.

The girls looked up and met my eyes—and fled as if they’d seen a ghost.

Serena looked at me, stunned.

Then she pulled herself to her feet, pain etched in every movement.

With effort, she warned me, “Those girls are dangerous. Don’t come up to the rooftop again. Don’t give them a reason to target you.”

Even after everything, she was still worried about others.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“They wouldn’t dare mess with me,” I said casually.

She glanced at my simple clothes and scoffed,

“Don’t kid yourself. Those girls are New York socialites with power and connections. Why would they be afraid of you?”

“I don’t look down on ordinary people, but don’t flatter yourself.”

Her sharp tongue amused me. I didn’t explain.

Later, I found out she came from a struggling thirdrate family. Her father had taken his own life under the weight of debt.

She had clawed her way into New York University, hoping to revive her family’s fortunes.

She had learned to survive among arrogant, spoiled heiresses.

I admired her spirit—resilient, selfreliant, fierce.

We started talking more. Slowly, we grew close.

She could be kind—genuinely kind.

When I skipped breakfast, she would quietly hand me half of hers.

If I had a stomachache, she’d bring me warm water and medicine without being asked.

And when I was in a dark place, she’d tell corny jokes just to make me smile.

Back then, I thought I’d found someone rare.

Someone worth everything.

Over time, I fell in love with her sincerity and innocence.

She used to blush shyly and say she simply wanted to be kind to me.

And so, we fell in love, got married and had a child.

Knowing her pride and reluctance to leave her hometown,

I willingly stayed with her at the Portman Family estate under the guise of being a livein soninlaw, quietly supporting her from the shadows.

With my help, she rebuilt the Portman Group from the brink of collapse and rose to become the wealthiest woman in the province.

But success changed her.

She was rarely home.

When I gently asked her to spend more time with our son, the woman who once swore she'd never look down on others gave me a disdainful look and said, “What do you know? You’re just a soninlaw”

“Do you think all I have to do is stay home and raise kids like you? If I didn’t work so hard outside, could you and our son enjoy such a comfortable life?”

Her words pierced through me.

Her growing arrogance slowly crushed the last of my hope.

Still, I was grateful.

She had given birth to my son—a bright, brilliant boy.

And all I ever wanted was to raise him well and see him thrive.

So I tolerated her.

Again and again.

I never imagined that my patience would become permission.

That she would betray me, conceiving another man’s child.

That her carelessness would cost our son his life.

After he died, there was nothing left binding me to this family.

And whatever love I had for Serena vanished along with him.

Lost in these thoughts, I arrived at the Portman Group building, carrying my son's death certificate.

Inside, the elite of the province had gathered for the company’s 30th anniversary celebration—business moguls, socialites, political figures. The entire upper echelon was in attendance.

Serena stood at the center, radiant in an elegant gown, her expression proud and aloof—like a goddess basking in her own glory.

Ricky, dressed in a tailored suit, held her by the waist, looking at her as if she were the only person in the world.

I stepped inside, expressionless.

As I neared, I heard Ricky’s voice. He was pouting like a child, sounding pitiful.

“Serena, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault your husband wants to divorce you.”

Serena smiled at him sweetly, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

“Silly... I’m rich and Bryan loves me more than life itself. There’s no way he’d divorce me. He’s just throwing a tantrum. Don’t take it to heart.”

But the moment her eyes met mine, all tenderness vanished. Her gaze turned icy.

“Bryan, didn’t I tell you to bring your son to the celebration today? How dare you show up alone!”

Around us, the murmurs of the powerful began.

“So that’s the Portman Family’s livein soninlaw? He looks like he works on a construction site.”

“Just a househusband. No wonder Serena always preferred her assistant.”

“With that rustic look? He’s completely unworthy of someone like Serena.”

Their snide remarks only deepened Ricky’s smug smile.

Then, putting on a display of false humility, he looked at me with watery eyes, as if he were the victim.

“Bryan, I know it’s my fault. I got Serena pregnant and made you two fight.”

“If you’re angry, just yell at me. Don’t take it out on your son. Don’t dress like you’re in mourning and show up alone on such an important day.”

“You know how important this event is. With all these highranking guests present, are you deliberately trying to humiliate Serena and shame the Portman Family?”

His sanctimonious act drew approving glances from the crowd.

Even Serena’s expression softened, touched by his “consideration.”

But I simply looked at him, calm and cold.

“I don’t care if you enjoy being the other man,” I said flatly.

“But don’t ever bring up my son.”

“You’re not worthy.”

The banquet hall fell silent.

A heavy tension filled the room.

Then Serena’s expression darkened. “Bryan, know your place!”

“My place?” I let out a cold laugh. “You mean, the socalled soninlaw of the Portman Family?”

“I couldn’t care less about that title.”

Her face froze, voice sharp as ice. “You don’t care?”

“You don’t care, yet you secretly use my money to support your father—letting that backwater peasant drive around in a RollsRoyce?”

“If you really had any selfrespect, you wouldn’t rely on underhanded tricks to fund your family’s luxury.”

I had always been cautious, asking my father to keep a low profile so as not to embarrass her.

I never imagined she’d twist it into a story of theft and shame—believing my family was living off her wealth?

I looked at her and chuckled softly. “Serena, you really don’t know me at all.”

Before she could respond, her mother scoffed and chimed in, eyes full of disdain.

“You’ve always thought too highly of yourself.”

“If you hadn’t lucked out by marrying into the Portman Family, how could you live such a cushy life?”

“You should be grateful for what you’ve enjoyed under this roof—stay in your lane, be a good househusband and stop humiliating yourself with this nonsense!”

The crowd around us eagerly added fuel to the fire.

“Exactly! He’s so ungrateful. Serena is the richest woman in the province—do you know how many men would kill to marry into her family?”

“If it were me, I’d serve tea to every man she brought home if it meant staying in that mansion!”

“When you marry into wealth, you need to know your role. Don’t confuse your place and start thinking you’re important.”

“It’s always the useless ones who throw tantrums. No money, no power—just pride.”

As the laughter and scorn grew louder, Serena looked at me with thinly veiled disgust.

“I know why you're doing this—because you’re jealous of Ricky.”

“But Ricky isn’t just anyone. He’s from an elite family, highly educated and incredibly capable. Without his help, the Portman Group wouldn’t be where it is today.”

“You? You used to raise children. And now, you can’t even do that.”

“What right do you have to compare yourself to him?”

I laughed, a low, bitter sound.

Ricky? The reason for the Portman Group’s success?

If I hadn’t worked behind the scenes—quietly funneling resources, shielding the company from predators—it would’ve been torn to shreds by competitors. Ricky? He was nothing but a pretty puppet.

Then he had the nerve to lean in and whisper to Serena with a smirk.

“Serena, you once said Bryan had a talent for raising children. But looking at Thomas Addison now, I think it’s just your superior genes.”

“He’s set to be a top student at Columbia University and the future heir to the Portman Group.”

“I just worry… with Bryan’s attitude, he might be a bad influence.”

His words lit a fire in Serena’s eyes. She turned to me with a chilling glare.

“Bryan, originally, I was willing to let you raise the child I’m carrying—because you did well raising Thomas.”

“But look at what he’s become. He didn’t come home last night. He won’t answer my calls.”

“I don’t care what personal issues you have—but don’t interfere with my son’s future.”

“I’ve invited all these elite figures here today to build his network—to give him a future worthy of a Portman.”

“My son must grow up to be someone powerful and respected, just like me.”

Her voice echoed through the room, so full of pride and conviction.

And yet, it made me feel nothing but sorrow.

I looked at her and said quietly, “Stop pretending to be a good mother.

“If you truly cared about him…”

“You wouldn’t have left him stranded in the pouring rain, on the morning of his college entrance exam.”

Thinking of my thoughtful, gentle son—how he died on the most important day of his life and at the hands of the person he loved and trusted most—my heart ached with unbearable grief.

Serena scowled. “All I did was not take him to his exam! Are you really going to keep harping on such a trivial thing?”

“With this petty, faultfinding attitude, you’re not even fit to be a father—let alone the soninlaw of the Portman Family!”

“You want a divorce? Fine! I’ll give it to you. Just bring our son here and I’ll sign the papers on the spot!”

Her voice rang through the hall, loud and sharp, as though she could no longer stand the sight of me.

Seeing her so resolute, Serena’s mother jumped in eagerly, “Serena, you should’ve done this long ago.”

“Bryan is just a small man from a humble background—he’s never belonged in our Portman Family.”

“People from different classes can never truly mix. If our precious grandson stays with him, he’ll only end up tainted—learning the wrong values, forgetting the rules of the elite.”

The other members of the Portman Family joined in, scolding me in unison.

“Hurry up and bring out the Portman heir. Don’t let this rotten man ruin the bright future of our young master!”

Surrounded by hostility, I caught Ricky smirking again, his expression openly gloating.

The wealthy elites and highsociety women present all nodded in agreement, praising Serena for her decisiveness. They sneered that I was unworthy of the Portman name—that I had overstepped, overreached and should’ve known my place. To them, I was a disgrace—nothing but an eyesore to their aristocratic circle.

Looking at their indignant, selfrighteous faces, I laughed.

So this was the world they lived in. Where cheating, affairs, mistresses and illegitimate children were excusable—natural even. But staying faithful and silent made me the villain.

I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Yet I was the one being judged, mocked, condemned.

What a joke.

I took a deep breath, then turned to Serena and said clearly, “I brought our son.”

Her brow furrowed. She glanced around. “Where is he?”

The other Portman Family members looked around too, scanning the hall for a young boy.

Serena’s mother even put on her reading glasses and squinted toward the crowd. “Where’s my precious grandson?”

I reached into my bag, pulled out the certificate and placed it firmly on the main table.

“He’s right here.”