Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 11

"Watch this," Megan said, excitement evident in her voice. She picked up the first device, which immediately activated at her touch. "The interface is now calibrated to recognize not just hand size and grip pattern, but finger pressure, temperature, and even the subtle electrical signals from the nervous system."

She handed the device to Michael, and the interface immediately reconfigured to his parameters. "Impressive," he nodded. "But you mentioned something new?"

"This is the new part," Megan grinned, taking the device back. "We've programmed all six prototypes to recognize the same set of users." She gestured to Olivia, who approached from her workstation. "Pick any one."

Olivia selected a device from the middle of the array. Immediately, the interface configured to her specifications. "Now try another," Megan urged.

Olivia chose a different prototype, with identical results. "No login, no password, no thumbprint scan," Megan explained. "Pure neural-response authentication. The device knows it's you just from how you hold it."

"And it adapts functionality based on usage patterns," Olivia added. "I primarily use mine for security testing, so mine prioritizes those functions. Megan's emphasizes development tools."

"We've programmed the system to recognize six different users," Megan continued. "The three of us, plus three test subjects with different usage profiles. Each profile triggers different interface priorities, all without conscious selection."

Michael picked up one of the devices, feeling it warm slightly in his hand as it recognized him. "This is years ahead of anything on the market."

"Decades," Olivia corrected. "The quantum authentication layer ensures that even if someone could somehow replicate your exact grip pattern—which is virtually impossible—they still couldn't access your data without replicating your unique neural signals."

"Which is actually impossible," Megan added. "It's like trying to forge a fingerprint while also replicating the exact electrical patterns of someone's nervous system."

Michael tested each prototype, marveling at how they all instantly recognized him and presented the same personalized interface. "When can we move to production?"

"We've finalized the specs for the manufacturing team," Olivia replied. "As soon as you give the word, we can begin small-batch production for field testing."

"The word is given," Michael said decisively. "I've secured the manufacturing contracts and established our corporate structure. Buzzer Technology LLC is officially in business."

"Buzzer?" Megan's nose wrinkled. "I thought we were going with Phoenix."

"Phoenix Technologies is our parent company," Michael explained. "Buzzer is our consumer brand. Less phoenix rising from the ashes, more 'this technology will make waves.'"

"I like it," Olivia nodded. "Simple, memorable, suggests connectivity without being obvious about it."

"Exactly," Michael agreed. "And the first production run is scheduled to begin next week. One hundred devices for controlled testing."

"So fast?" Megan's eyes widened. "I mean, that's amazing, but how did you arrange everything so quickly?"

"I'm very persuasive," Michael replied with a slight smile. "And having nearly unlimited funds helps."

"Speaking of funds," Olivia said, "I've completed the security architecture for our financial systems. Quantum-encrypted blockchain with distributed verification nodes. Essentially unhackable, and completely untraceable to Crawford Enterprises or any of our personal accounts."

"Perfect," Michael nodded appreciatively. "The last thing we need is for anyone to connect Buzzer to either of us or to my family's company."

"Which reminds me," Megan interjected, "we should discuss the Rebecca situation."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You know about Rebecca?"

"Olivia told me," Megan explained. "Neural regeneration therapy could be revolutionary if integrated with our interface technology. Imagine a device that not only responds to neural signals but could potentially help repair neural damage."

"I've invited her to meet us later today," Michael confirmed. "Her files should be fully decrypted by then."

"And you're confident she can be trusted?" Olivia asked.

"Completely," Michael nodded. "She values scientific integrity above all else. That's why Neuro-Gen tried to steal her research rather than work with her on her terms."

"Well, I can't wait to meet her," Megan said enthusiastically. "The applications for combined neural interface and regeneration technology are mind-blowing."

"Focus on the current prototypes for now," Michael advised. "Let's perfect what we have before expanding further."

"Always the cautious businessman," Olivia teased. "Even when building a revolutionary technology company."

"Calculated risks," Michael corrected. "Not recklessness. That's what separates visionaries from failures."

When Michael returned home that evening, the house was quiet. A note from Katherine on the kitchen counter informed him she was indeed out shopping and would be back late.

"Perfect," he thought, heading upstairs to shower and change. He needed to prepare for tomorrow's announcement of his temporary COO position—a role he intended to leverage to uncover the full extent of Eric's financial manipulations.

As the hot water washed away the day's tension, Michael's mind raced with possibilities. His father's unexpected decision had accelerated his timeline, creating both opportunities and complications.

After his shower, wrapped in a towel, Michael returned to the bedroom to find his clothes laid out for tomorrow—one of Katherine's little wifely touches that had once seemed thoughtful but now felt intrusive.

He dressed quickly in comfortable clothes, then headed to his home office to review the company financials he'd brought from work. If Eric's Westside Development showed irregularities, other projects likely did as well.

Hours passed as Michael methodically examined financial statements, identifying several suspicious patterns that mirrored the Westside issues. By the time he heard Katherine's key in the front door, it was past eleven.

"Honey?" her voice called from downstairs. "Are you still up?"

"In my office," Michael replied, quickly hiding the most sensitive documents. "Just finishing some work."

Katherine appeared in the doorway, shopping bags in hand. "Productive day?"

"Very," Michael nodded. "And your shopping trip?"

"Extremely successful," she smiled, holding up the bags. "Wait until you see what I found for you."

"Can't wait," Michael replied with a practiced smile. "I'm going to wrap up here. Be in bed shortly."

"Don't be too long," she said, her tone suggestive. "I might have a special thank-you planned for our new COO."

After she left, Michael turned back to his work, disgust churning in his stomach. Every touch, every smile, every intimate moment with Katherine now felt like a violation. Knowing what she had done—would do—made her affection repulsive.

"Just a little longer," he reminded himself. "Just until everything is in place."

He worked for another hour before preparing for bed. As promised, Katherine had planned a "celebration" of his new position. Michael endured her touch, compartmentalizing his revulsion and focusing instead on the progress of his plans.

Afterward, Katherine fell asleep quickly, her head resting on his chest in a parody of marital affection. Michael lay awake, staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes until he could extricate himself from her embrace.

When her breathing deepened into the rhythms of deep sleep, he carefully slid from the bed and returned to his office. From a hidden compartment in his desk, he retrieved his secure Buzzer Tech phone—a prototype Megan had given him earlier that day.

The device hummed to life at his touch, recognizing his neural patterns instantly. He quickly reviewed the manufacturing updates and financial transfers, confirming everything was proceeding as planned.

So absorbed was he in the reports that he didn't hear the bedroom door open, didn't notice Katherine's soft footsteps in the hallway until it was too late.

The office door creaked slightly. Michael looked up to find Katherine standing in the doorway, her silk robe loosely tied, her expression curious.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, voice husky with supposed concern.

"Just checking some figures," Michael replied, moving to pocket the phone, but Katherine's eyes had already locked onto the unfamiliar device.

"What's that?" she asked, stepping closer. "New company phone?"

"Something like that," Michael answered vaguely. "A prototype from the tech division."

"May I see?" Katherine extended her hand, her smile sweet but her eyes calculating.

Before Michael could refuse, she had plucked the phone from his fingers. "Interesting design," she commented, turning it over in her hands. Her finger brushed the activation sensor, and to Michael's horror, the first-level security screen illuminated—showing the Buzzer Tech logo glowing against a black background.

"Buzzer Technology?" Katherine read, her eyebrows rising. "I don't recall Crawford Enterprises having a division by that name."

Michael's mind raced for an explanation, but before he could speak, Katherine's gaze shifted from the phone to his face, her eyes suddenly sharp with suspicion.

"Michael," she said softly, dangerously. "What exactly aren't you telling me?"