Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 6

The dinner with Olivia and Megan had gone better than Michael could have hoped. Three hours of intense discussion had laid the groundwork for their partnership, with Olivia finally agreeing to review a comprehensive proposal within the week.

"What a day," Michael thought as he slid into the driver's seat of his Audi. "The team is taking shape."

Instead of turning toward the mansion he shared with Katherine, Michael headed in the opposite direction. The digital clock on his dashboard read 2:37 PM.

Twenty minutes later, Michael pulled into an unremarkable apartment complex in a distinctly middle-class neighborhood. Six-story brick buildings arranged around a central courtyard, decent but not luxurious. The kind of place successful young professionals lived before upgrading to something more impressive.

He parked in space 42B and retrieved a small duffel bag from his trunk. The familiar weight of the bag brought a smile to his face. In his previous life, this place had been his sanctuary—a secret even Katherine didn't know about. He'd purchased it under an LLC, telling himself it was a potential investment property, but really using it as an escape where he could think without the pressure of the Crawford name.

"One of the few smart decisions I made last time," he thought as he headed toward the entrance. "And now it becomes command central for operation Take Back My Life."

Lost in thought, Michael didn't notice the woman exiting the building until they collided. Coffee splashed across his crisp white shirt and her papers scattered across the ground.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" she exclaimed, jumping back as hot liquid stained her blouse. "Watch where you're going!"

Michael looked up, startled to find himself face to face with Rebecca Chen. The System highlighted her immediately:

[Rebecca Chen, 29. Medical researcher specializing in regenerative neuroscience. Currently developing early-stage treatment for neurodegenerative conditions. Future breakthrough will revolutionize treatment of brain injuries.]

In his previous timeline, Rebecca had developed a groundbreaking therapy that restored neural pathways in damaged brains—technology that would have saved thousands of lives if her research hadn't been stolen and suppressed by pharmaceutical companies seeking to protect more profitable long-term treatments.

"I'm so sorry," Michael started, then caught himself. Rebecca wouldn't be impressed by apologies. She valued directness.

"Actually, you walked into me while staring at your phone," he pointed out, nodding toward the device still clutched in her hand.

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me? You're the one who—"

"—was walking in a straight line while you were texting and walking," Michael finished, kneeling to gather her scattered papers. "But since we're both at fault, how about we skip the blame game?"

He collected the papers, quickly organizing them as he recognized her research notes—early-stage concepts for the neural regeneration therapy that would eventually make her famous. Or would have, if her work hadn't been sabotaged.

"I don't need your help," Rebecca snapped, crouching to grab the papers from his hands.

"Evidence suggests otherwise," Michael replied calmly, retrieving a napkin from his pocket and offering it to her. "For the coffee."

Rebecca hesitated, then snatched the napkin with a huff. "Do you always deflect criticism with smartass remarks?"

"Only on days ending in 'y'," Michael replied, finally allowing himself a smile. "I'm Michael, by the way. 4C."

"I didn't ask," she replied, dabbing at her blouse. "And I still don't have all my notes."

"Looking for these?" Michael held up two more pages that had slid under a nearby bench. "Important stuff. Neural pathway regeneration using targeted stem cell therapy. Ambitious."

Rebecca froze, her expression shifting from irritation to suspicion. "How do you know what—"

"I can read," Michael said, tapping the title at the top of the page. "And contrary to how this interaction started, I'm not completely oblivious."

She snatched the papers, examining them for damage before carefully tucking them into her folder. "These coffee stains better not have ruined anything important."

"If they did, I'll happily retype the entire thing for you," Michael offered, surprising even himself with the sincerity in his voice.

Rebecca studied him for a moment, her annoyance gradually giving way to curiosity. "You're new around here."

"Not exactly," Michael replied. "I've had the apartment for a while. Just don't use it much."

"Pied-à-terre for entertaining girlfriends your wife doesn't know about?" she asked bluntly.

Michael laughed. "Nothing so interesting. Just a quiet place to think." He glanced at his watch. "I should go change this shirt. Nice bumping into you, Rebecca."

Her eyebrows rose. "I don't recall mentioning my name."

"Damn it," Michael cursed internally. "Rookie mistake."

"It's on your research," he recovered smoothly, pointing to the header of her papers where 'R. Chen' was printed. "Rebecca seemed like a reasonable guess."

She didn't look entirely convinced. "Right. Well, watch where you're going next time... Michael from 4C."

"Likewise," he called after her as she strode away, her posture straight and unyielding.

"That was close," Michael thought, watching her disappear around the corner. "And her research is exactly where it should be at this point in the timeline."

**

Inside his apartment, Michael flipped on the lights and surveyed the space. Minimalist furniture, a desk with a computer, bookshelves lined with technical manuals and business texts. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust—it had been at least two months since he'd last visited in this timeline.

He changed his coffee-stained shirt for a fresh one from the closet, then moved to the kitchenette to brew a cup of coffee. As the machine gurgled to life, he considered the encounter with Rebecca.

"In the original timeline, we didn't meet until after her research was stolen," he recalled. "By then it was too late to help her protect it. But now..."

He needed funds—significant funds—to launch a tech company without Crawford backing. His salary was substantial but nowhere near sufficient, and most of his assets were tied up in Crawford Enterprises stock that he couldn't suddenly liquidate without raising suspicions.

"Stocks," he said aloud, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The market in this period was on the verge of several major shifts he could easily predict. Companies that would skyrocket, others that would collapse. With his knowledge of the future, he could multiply his investment exponentially.

"That's the only way I can raise the funds in time," he murmured, typing rapidly as he logged into his brokerage account. "Use what I know about the next five years to build the capital we need."

He pulled up market data, smiling as he recognized patterns that were painfully obvious with the benefit of hindsight. Tech stocks that would more than triple in value within months. A pharmaceutical company about to announce a breakthrough. A social media platform on the verge of explosive growth.

"It's almost too easy," he thought, making careful notes. "But I need to be strategic—small enough investments not to move markets, spread across enough sectors not to raise flags."

After plotting his investment strategy, Michael opened another window and logged into a different account—one he'd set up years ago when he'd first started earning his own money, before he met Katherine.

"My insurance policy," he thought as the balance loaded on screen. "The one good financial decision I made before falling into her trap."

The number appeared: $78,452,893.17

Michael sat back, a smile spreading across his face. Nearly $80 million in an account Katherine knew nothing about. Money he'd earned through early investments and quietly funneled away, initially as a surprise for their future, later just from habit.

"Funny how things work out," he mused, staring at the figure. "I was saving this to build our dream home. Now it'll fund the company that will be my revenge."

Michael leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, as satisfaction washed over him. The pieces were falling into place more perfectly than he could have hoped. Megan for engineering. Olivia for digital security and authentication. 

"They thought they buried me," he whispered to the empty room. "They didn't realize they planted a seed."