Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 3

"You're bringing Jason onto your team?" Eric's voice carried across the restaurant patio where they sat for lunch the next day. "I was certain you'd want your own people."

Michael took a sip of water, watching his brother's poorly disguised relief. "Why wouldn't I? He's one of our top financial analysts."

"I just thought—" Eric's fork hovered midair. "You two have never been particularly close."

"Business isn't about friendship," Michael leaned forward, maintaining eye contact. "It's about utilizing the best talents available."

Eric set down his fork, his shoulders relaxing visibly. "Well, I'm glad you see his value. He's been loyal to Crawford Enterprises for years."

"Loyal to Crawford Enterprises," Michael smiled, "or loyal to specific Crawfords?"

Eric's eyebrows rose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Michael waved his hand dismissively. "Just thinking out loud. Loyalty goes both ways. I intend to reward mine generously." He reached for the wine bottle. "Speaking of loyalty, I've asked Vanessa to handle marketing for the division launch."

"Vanessa too?" Eric's fingers drummed against the tablecloth, his wedding ring tapping a nervous rhythm. "You're certainly picking from the top talent pool."

"Why settle for less?" Michael refilled both their glasses. "Dad expects success. I plan to deliver it."

"And you think Jason and Vanessa are the keys to that success?" The doubt in Eric's voice was barely concealed.

"Among others." Michael cut into his steak, the knife slicing through with precise pressure. "I've been watching people, Eric. Really watching them. You'd be surprised what you notice when you pay attention."

The waiter approached with their desserts, interrupting the conversation. Michael watched as his brother stabbed unnecessarily hard at his chocolate cake. Five years of hindsight had given him clarity—Eric had always planted his own allies within Michael's projects, creating a network of informants and saboteurs. This time, Michael would be the one playing the puppet master.

As Michael lifted his spoon, blue text suddenly appeared in his vision:

[Alert: Strategic opportunity in radius.]

Michael glanced toward the entrance, spotting a woman in a sharp charcoal suit being led to a table. Even without the system's identification, he would have recognized her—Olivia Wagner, the art authentication specialist whose career would be destroyed in his previous timeline after the Brennan scandal.

"Everything okay?" Eric asked, noticing Michael's distraction.

"Fine," Michael smiled, returning his attention to the table. "Just recognized someone."

Eric twisted in his chair, following Michael's earlier gaze. "Olivia Wagner? The art consultant? What's your interest there?"

"Professional curiosity," Michael replied, taking another bite of his dessert. "Her authentication methods are revolutionary, from what I've heard."

"Since when do you care about art authentication?" Eric's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Since Dad put me in charge of a division focused on innovation," Michael countered smoothly. "Creative thinking comes from unexpected places. You should try it sometime."

Eric's jaw tightened. "I'm plenty creative, brother."

"Of course you are," Michael nodded, his tone deliberately patronizing. "That's why Dad gave you marketing instead of the innovation division."

The barb landed exactly as intended. Eric's knuckles whitened around his fork. "Careful, Michael. Success hasn't found you yet."

"But it will," Michael replied, calm confidence radiating from him. "And when it does, I hope you'll be there to celebrate with me." He raised his glass. "To family."

Eric hesitated before clinking his glass against Michael's. "To family."

After lunch, as Eric headed back to the office, Michael casually checked his watch. "I need to make a quick call. Tell Johnson I'll be fifteen minutes late for the budget meeting."

Eric nodded and departed, his posture stiff with lingering tension. The moment he was out of sight, Michael made his way toward Olivia's table, timing his approach as she finished her meal.

"Ms. Wagner? Michael Crawford," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Olivia looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "Mr. Crawford. No, not at all." She shook his hand, her grip firm and professional. "I know your father's company, of course."

"I’m surprised that a big figure like you is aware of my existence. I admire your work in art authentication," Michael said, gesturing to the empty seat across from her. "If you have a moment, I'd like to discuss a potential consultation."

Curiosity replaced surprise in her expression. "You flatter me. Of course. Please, sit."

Michael took the seat, noting how she subtly closed her portfolio. "I'll be direct. I understand you recently authenticated a Ming vase for the Brennan collection."

Olivia's fingers froze around her water glass. "That transaction is confidential."

"Of course," Michael nodded. "And what I'm about to tell you should remain equally confidential." He leaned forward slightly. "The certificate of authenticity contains deliberate errors in the provenance documentation. The vase itself is genuine, but someone has tampered with its history to hide its true origin."

Her eyes widened. "How could you possibly know that?"

Michael smiled. "Let's just say I have my sources. If you check the water damage marks under ultraviolet light and compare them to the documentation, you'll find the discrepancy."

"Why tell me this?" Olivia's voice dropped to just above a whisper, her eyes darting around the restaurant.

"Because I value integrity," Michael replied. "And because Crawford Enterprises is expanding into new territories. We could use someone with your expertise in authentication technology."

Olivia studied him for a long moment. "I'll look into your claims about the vase. If you're right..." She paused. "We can continue this conversation."

"That's all I ask," Michael said, sliding his business card across the table. "My direct line is on the back."

As he walked away, Michael's mind raced with possibilities. In his previous life, he'd met Olivia nearly two years later, after her reputation had been damaged by the Brennan scandal. This time, he could help her avoid that pitfall while gaining a valuable ally.

[System Alert: Strategic relationship initiated. Continue building your network.]

Back at the office, Michael closed his door and pulled out a notebook. He began sketching the organizational structure for his new division, deliberately placing Jason and Vanessa in positions where they would have access to information—but not to anything critical. Compartmentalization would be key.

"Mr. Crawford?" His assistant's voice came through the intercom. "Jason Parker is here to see you."

Michael smiled to himself. "Send him in."

Jason entered, confidence evident in his stride, a portfolio tucked under his arm. "Michael, I was surprised to get your call. Eric mentioned you might want me on your team, but I wanted to hear it directly."

"Have a seat, Jason," Michael gestured to the chair across from him. "I've watched your work for some time. Your financial models are consistently precise."

"I appreciate that," Jason smiled, setting his portfolio on the desk. "I've brought some preliminary ideas for your division's budget allocation."

"Always prepared," Michael nodded approvingly. "That's exactly why I want you on board."

Jason opened the portfolio, revealing meticulously crafted spreadsheets. "I've taken the liberty of projecting three different investment scenarios."

As Jason walked through his presentation, Michael observed him with his enhanced perception. The slight tension in his shoulders when discussing certain allocations. The calculated enthusiasm when proposing cutbacks to research funding—an area Michael knew would be crucial for his true plans.

"This is impressive work," Michael said when Jason finished. "But I notice you've reduced the R&D budget significantly."

Jason's smile faltered momentarily. "Innovation is important, but initial capital expenses should be conservative. It's what I'd advise Eric—or anyone."

"And that's why your advice is valuable," Michael replied. "Even when I decide to go another direction."

"You're planning to prioritize R&D?" Jason's tone carried a hint of disapproval.

Michael leaned back in his chair. "I'm planning to build something that's never been built before, Jason. That requires investment."

"Your father mentioned limited resources—"

"My father expects results," Michael interrupted. "And I intend to deliver them in ways no one anticipates." He stood up, extending his hand. "Welcome to the team, Jason. I look forward to showing you exactly what I have in mind."

Jason rose, shaking Michael's hand with a slightly uncertain grip. "Looking forward to it."

After Jason left, Michael returned to his notepad, adding another name to his recruitment list: Megan Chen from the research department. In his previous life, she'd developed breakthrough software architecture before being poached by a competitor. This time, he'd recognize her talent early.

"Ms. Chen's file, as requested," his assistant said, entering with a folder. "She's only been with the company for eight months. Are you sure she's who you want?"

"Completely," Michael replied, opening the file to review information he already knew. "Sometimes the greatest talents are hidden in plain sight."

By evening, Michael had mapped out his entire strategy—bringing his enemies close where he could monitor them while simultaneously building a shadow team of overlooked talents who would drive his true innovation forward. As he prepared to leave, his phone chimed with a text from Katherine.

Dinner waiting at home. Don't be late. Love you.

Michael stared at the message, remembering her cold eyes as she'd watched dirt fill his grave. Five years of lies, culminating in his murder. Now she thought she was still manipulating an oblivious husband.

Getting in the car now, he texted back. Picked up that wine you like.

The drive home gave Michael time to prepare mentally. The suburban house they'd purchased together—Katherine had insisted on this neighborhood, he now recalled, because it was only ten minutes from Eric's apartment—looked exactly as he remembered. Lights glowed warmly within, projecting an image of domestic bliss that couldn't be further from reality.

Michael parked in the driveway, collecting the wine bottle he'd selected—a vintage he knew Katherine disliked but always pretended to enjoy because it was expensive. Another lie in a relationship built on deception.

"I'm home," he called out, hanging his jacket in the hall closet.

Katherine appeared from the kitchen, wearing the apron he'd given her last Christmas, her hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. The perfect picture of a loving wife.

"There you are," she smiled, approaching to kiss his cheek. "I made your favorite—braised short ribs."

"You're too good to me," Michael replied, returning her kiss with practiced ease. He held up the wine bottle. "Thought we should celebrate my new position properly."

Katherine's eyes lit up with genuine pleasure—not at the wine, Michael now realized, but at what his promotion represented for her plans. "Perfect! I'll get glasses."

As she turned away, Michael whispered to himself, "Let the game begin."

Michael followed her into the kitchen, watching as she moved confidently through the space they'd shared for years. Everything looked the same, yet everything had changed. She was no longer his beloved wife but his most dangerous adversary—one who believed she held all the cards.

"Eric mentioned you recruited Jason and Vanessa," Katherine remarked casually, setting the table. "Interesting choices."

"You disapprove?" Michael asked, opening the wine to let it breathe.

"Not at all," she replied. "Just surprised. You've never seemed particularly close to them."

Michael poured the wine, handing her a glass. "People are full of surprises, aren't they?"

Katherine's gaze met his over the rim of her glass. "Yes, they certainly are."

They touched glasses, the crystal making a clear, ringing sound that hung in the air between them.

"To new beginnings," Michael said softly.

Katherine smiled. "To getting everything you deserve."

"Oh, I intend to," Michael replied, his meaning hidden beneath a pleasant smile. "More than you can possibly imagine."