Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

"To Crawford Enterprises' newest golden boy!"

The champagne glasses clinked as Michael Crawford's team surrounded him, their smiles gleaming in the dimly lit VIP lounge. The Meridian contract had finally been secured, a deal worth eight figures that would transform their division from a struggling department to the company's crown jewel.

"Speech! Speech!" Jason called out, his slick hair reflecting the ambient lighting as he raised his glass higher.

Michael rose, adjusting his tie. At thirty-two, he had the earnest look of someone still surprised by his own success—someone who couldn't quite believe his good fortune.

"I couldn't have done this without all of you," Michael said, his voice carrying across the private bar. "Jason, your financial projections were what sealed the deal." He nodded toward his CFO, who raised his glass with a wink. "Vanessa, that presentation you put together? Absolute perfection." The marketing director smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And Eric—" Michael's voice softened as he turned to his brother, "—having family beside me through this journey has meant everything."

Eric Crawford, two years younger but with the same strong jawline, stood and embraced Michael. "That's what brothers are for." He squeezed Michael's shoulder. "Family first, always."

Katherine, Michael's wife of four years, watched from the corner booth, her crimson dress matching her lips. When she caught Michael's eye, she blew him a kiss.

"You're going to make me blush," Michael joked to his team. "Seriously though, when I started at Crawford Enterprises, I was just the owner's son trying to prove I wasn't riding on daddy's coattails. You all took a chance on me when the old man put me in charge of this division, and now look at us."

"We never doubted you for a second," Vanessa chimed in, raising her glass.

"To Michael!" someone shouted from the back.

"No," Michael corrected, "to the best team anyone could ask for. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we change the world."

The night progressed with flowing drinks and laughter. Michael moved from group to group, thanking each person individually. Around midnight, the crowd began to thin.

"You heading out?" Michael asked Katherine as she gathered her purse.

"Migraine," she said, kissing his cheek. "Don't stay out too late, superstar. We should celebrate properly when you get home." Her fingers traced along his collar, her eyes promising more.

"I won't be long," Michael assured her. "Just a couple more drinks."

"Take your time," Katherine smiled. "You've earned it. I'm proud of you, Mike."

Michael watched her leave, admiring the way her red dress caught the light. Four years of marriage, and she still took his breath away.

"You're a lucky man," Jason said, appearing at Michael's side with fresh drinks.

"Don't I know it," Michael grinned, accepting the glass. "Beautiful, brilliant, and somehow she puts up with me."

"To the perfect power couple," Jason toasted.

“Another round of drinks? At this point you guys will make a cheer for anything,” Vanessa sighed.

*

*

Three hours later, the celebration had wound down to just the core team. Michael leaned against the bar, loosened tie hanging askew, as Jason approached.

"You've had quite a few, boss. Let me drive you home."

Michael waved him off. "I'm fine. I'll call a car."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jason insisted. "Katherine left hours ago. And you're in no condition to drive. Company policy, remember? The one you implemented after the Williams incident?"

Michael laughed, conceding the point. "Alright, alright. Wouldn't want to break my own rules."

"Smart man," Jason grinned, slapping Michael's back. "Besides, we should discuss the next steps for Meridian while it's fresh."

"Always working," Michael shook his head. "Fine, but I'm buying you breakfast tomorrow."

The cool night air hit Michael as they walked to Jason's car. The city skyline sparkled, and Michael paused to take it in.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured. "Five years ago, I was just the boss's kid. Now look."

"You've earned it," Jason said, checking his phone. "Your division's stock will jump ten points when this goes public tomorrow."

Inside the car, Michael sank into the leather seat. "Mind if I close my eyes for a bit? Just need to rest them."

"Sure thing, boss." Jason started the engine. "I'll take the scenic route. Give you a chance to sober up a bit before facing the wife."

Michael dozed off as the car hummed through the city streets. When he partially awoke, something felt wrong. They'd been driving too long, and his body felt leaden, his thoughts syrupy.

"Where are we?" His words slurred.

Jason's eyes met his in the rearview mirror. "Just taking a little detour."

Michael tried to sit up but couldn't move properly. "What's... happening to me?"

"Just a little something in your drink," Jason replied casually. "Nothing personal. Well, maybe a little personal."

"You... drugged me?" Michael's tongue felt thick.

"Relax, boss. It's better this way. Much Quicker, rather."

The car stopped somewhere dark and quiet. Michael heard doors opening, felt the rush of night air. Then hands grabbing him, dragging him.

"Careful with him," a familiar voice directed. "We need him coherent."

Michael squinted through his drugged haze. "Eric? What's going on?"

His brother's face appeared above him, moonlight casting harsh shadows across his features. Behind him, Vanessa and two other executives from the team watched impassively.

"Good evening, Michael," Eric said, his voice strangely formal. "Sorry about the accommodations."

"This is... a joke, right?" Michael slurred, trying to laugh.

Eric crouched beside Michael. "You know, big brother, you've always been so trusting. So... naive. It's almost endearing."

"This is about the contract?" Michael managed to ask.

"This is about everything," Eric replied. "The contract, the company, your position. Dad always favored you, even though we both know I'm the one with the real business instincts."

"Eric, if you wanted more responsibility—"

"I don't want more responsibility," Eric cut him off. "I want it all. And tonight, I'm taking it."

They dragged Michael through dirt and leaves. His feet bumped over roots and stones until they stopped at the edge of a freshly dug hole. Michael stared down into the darkness, reality slowly dawning through his drugged state.

"You're insane," he whispered. "They'll know it was you."

Eric laughed. "Will they? Heart attack at the celebration. Tragic, really. The autopsy will show a rare reaction between alcohol and that heart medication you've been taking. The one no one knows about except Katherine."

"Katherine knows about this?" Michael's voice cracked.

"Knows about it? My dear brother, it was her idea." Eric smiled, shaking his head. "You really should have signed that prenup she wanted. Dying without one means she gets it all."

"I don't believe you," Michael said, but doubt crept into his voice. "Katherine loves me."

"Katherine loves what you represent," Eric corrected. "The Crawford name, the money, the status. But you?" He chuckled. "You were just the easiest route to it all."

"You're lying," Michael insisted, trying to fight through the fog in his mind.

"Ask her yourself," Eric replied, nodding over Michael's shoulder.

Michael twisted, his eyes widening as Katherine emerged from the shadows. Her red dress had been replaced by dark jeans and a black sweater, practical clothes for a practical task.

"Honey?" Michael called out, hope flaring. "Katherine, please, call the police. They've lost their minds! They're talking about killing me!"

Katherine approached, her high heels sinking slightly into the soft earth. Her expression remained serene, detached. Clinical.

"Katherine, please—" Michael reached toward her, fingers trembling.

"Oh, Mike," she sighed, using the nickname he always hated. "This was always going to happen. You were just a stepping stone."

"A stepping stone to what?" Michael asked, struggling to understand.

"To everything," Katherine replied. "Your family name, your company connections. And now, your position." She turned to Eric, her fingers trailing along his jaw. "The board will sympathize with the grieving wife and brother. Eric will take over your division, I'll inherit your shares."

"We just needed you to sign that Meridian contract first," Eric added. "Congratulations on that, by the way. Truly impressive work."

"Your father would never allow this," Michael argued, desperate.

"The old man's health is failing," Eric shrugged. "Convenient timing. By this time next year, I'll be running the company. And Katherine will be by my side, where she belongs."

"How long?" Michael asked, looking at his wife. "How long have you been planning this?"

Katherine tilted her head. "Since before I met you."

"And us?" he pressed. "Was any of it real?"

"Does it matter now?" she asked coldly.

Michael struggled against his captors, but his limbs refused to cooperate. "You won't get away with this."

"We already have," Katherine replied. "Your father trusts us. The board respects us. And you've conveniently left everything to your loving wife in your will."

"Honey bun," Michael whispered, using the pet name from happier times, desperation in his voice, "I'm glad you're here. Please call th—"

The words died in his throat as Katherine stepped forward and pressed her lips against Eric's. Michael watched, horrified, as his wife and brother embraced, illuminated by moonlight, their silhouettes merging into one.

"Bonnie and Clyde," Michael murmured, the betrayal complete.

Eric broke the kiss and picked up a shovel. "It's nothing personal, Michael. Just business."

"You're my brother," Michael pleaded. "My family."

"And now I'm taking your place," Eric replied, raising the shovel. "In the company, in your home... in your bed."

"You won't succeed," Michael said, summoning his remaining strength. "Someone will figure it out."

"Who?" Eric laughed. "Your loyal team? They're all here." He gestured around. "Your friends? They'll be at your funeral, consoling your poor widow. Your father? He'll be too devastated to see what's right in front of him."

Michael looked around at the faces of his team—people he'd trusted, promoted, defended. None would meet his eye.

"Just get it over with," Vanessa said, checking her watch. "We need to get him back to the city before sunrise."

“You were talking about them finding out about this? Well, let’s see if they can even find your body.” Eric smirked. "Goodbye, Michael."

The shovel came down hard. Pain exploded across Michael's skull. As he fell backward into the hole, the last thing he saw was his wife and brother staring down at him, dark silhouettes against the night sky.

"Start filling it," Eric commanded. "Make sure he's covered completely."

Dirt began to rain down. Michael couldn't move, couldn't speak. His consciousness faded as earth covered his face. This was it. This was death.

The weight of soil pressed against him. Suffocating. 

.

.

Crushing.

Darkness. Silence. Nothingness.

Then, a ringing sound.

Michael gasped, his eyes flying open. Sunlight streamed through vertical blinds. He sat at his desk—his old desk from the small office he'd occupied before the promotion.

"What the—" he choked out, hands frantically patting his body, his head, his face.

The phone on his desk rang again. With trembling fingers, he picked it up.

"H-hello?"

"Mr. Crawford?" His assistant's voice. "Your meeting is in thirty minutes. Should I have the car brought around?"

Michael stared at the calendar on his desk: May 15, 2018. Five years earlier. The day of his first pitch. The day everything began.

"Mr. Crawford? Are you there?"

The air in front of him shimmered, and glowing blue text materialized:

[ULTIMATE SON-IN-LAW SYSTEM ACTIVATED]