Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 8

Michael adjusted his tie as the Crawford Enterprises boardroom filled with executives. The familiar faces that had once seemed friendly now appeared as masks hiding unknown agendas. He watched Jason whispering something to Vanessa, their heads bent close together before they separated to take their seats.

"Showtime," Michael muttered under his breath, straightening his presentation materials.

Richard Crawford entered the room with characteristic authority, commanding attention without speaking a word. Behind him trailed Eric, who flashed Michael a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Let's get started," Richard announced, taking his seat at the head of the table. "Michael, I understand you have a proposal for the board?"

Michael rose, buttoning his jacket with practiced ease. "Thank you, Father. Today I'm presenting the Crawford Smart Buildings Initiative."

He clicked the remote, and the projection screen illuminated with his carefully crafted presentation.

"Our family built its legacy on physical structures," Michael began, meeting his father's gaze. "But the future of real estate isn't just in steel and concrete—it's in the intelligence we build into those structures."

For the next twenty minutes, Michael outlined a vision for Crawford's buildings that integrated adaptive environmental controls, predictive maintenance systems, and personalized user experiences. The technology was innovative without being revolutionary—deliberately held back from what he knew was truly possible.

"Conservative projections show a 15% value increase in properties implementing these systems," Michael concluded, "with potential additional revenue streams from licensing the technology to other developers."

Richard nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Practical innovation. I like it. Questions from the board?"

Jason raised his hand immediately. "The development costs seem high for a relatively modest return. Wouldn't we be better served focusing on our core strengths?"

Michael had anticipated this exact objection. "The beauty of this initiative is that it builds on our core strengths, Jason. We're not abandoning construction for tech—we're enhancing what we already do best."

"And the technology?" Vanessa interjected. "Are we developing it in-house or seeking partnerships?"

"Both," Michael replied smoothly. "We have talented people who can handle much of the software development, but I've identified potential partners for specialized components."

Eric leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Interesting, brother. But I wonder if you're thinking too small? Fifteen percent is good, but hardly groundbreaking."

Michael met his brother's gaze, recognizing the trap. Eric wanted him to overreach, to promise something he couldn't deliver. "I prefer to under-promise and over-deliver, Eric. If we hit twenty percent, we'll all be celebrating. But fifteen percent is a realistic target that preserves our reputation for reliability."

Richard cleared his throat. "Sensible approach, Michael. I approve the initial development budget. Keep me updated on progress."

"Thank you, Father," Michael nodded, gathering his materials as the meeting moved to other business.

As he returned to his seat, Michael caught Katherine's eye at the back of the room. She offered a supportive smile, raising her coffee cup slightly in salute. He returned the gesture, the image of her watching dirt fill his grave flashing unbidden through his mind.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," he thought. "But what do you do when they're the same people?"

Back in his office, Michael activated the small device hidden in his desk drawer. The screen displayed feeds from the monitoring software he'd secretly installed on Jason and Vanessa's computers the previous day.

"Let's see where your loyalties truly lie," he murmured, watching Jason's screen as he opened an email draft.

The text appeared character by character as Jason typed:

To: Eric Crawford Subject: Michael's Smart Building Initiative

Eric,

As requested, here's my assessment of Michael's presentation. Frankly, it's unimpressive. 15% projected increase is conservative to the point of being timid. The technology described is merely an iteration of existing systems, nothing revolutionary.

That said, Richard seemed pleased with the practical approach. We should proceed carefully if we want to redirect resources. Michael's positioning himself as the cautious, reliable innovator.. exactly what Richard respects.

Will update after our next meeting. -J

Michael's jaw tightened as he watched Jason send the email. The betrayal stung despite being expected. He switched to Vanessa's feed, watching her open design documents he'd shared with her that morning, copying specific sections to a separate file labeled "EC Review."

"So predictable," Michael said, allowing himself a small smile. "But this time, I'm the one pulling the strings."

He checked his watch, 12:37 PM. Katherine had mentioned she'd be at La Mer Spa all afternoon. The perfect opportunity to verify another suspicion.

Michael opened his phone, activating the tracking app he'd secretly installed on Katherine's device. The blinking dot showing her location wasn't at the spa at all. Instead, it hovered over an address he knew all too well: Eric's downtown apartment.

"Not even trying to be discreet," Michael muttered, taking a screenshot. "But then, why would you? You never suspected I knew."

That night, Michael pretended to sleep beside Katherine, his breathing carefully regulated to mimic deep slumber. At 2:15 AM, he felt her stir, movements deliberately slow and cautious as she slipped from their bed.

Through barely-open eyes, Michael watched her retrieve her phone, activating the camera's night mode as she crept toward his home office. He followed silently, keeping to the shadows of the hallway as she entered his study.

Katherine moved with practiced efficiency, photographing documents he'd left prominently on his desk—documents containing deliberately misleading information about his planned negotiation strategy with potential technology partners.

Michael watched as she quickly texted the images to a contact saved simply as "E."

Katherine: Nothing useful yet. Just standard negotiation strategies. Will keep looking.

The response came seconds later:

E: Keep digging. He must have something more substantial. Father doesn't give divisions to disappointments.

Katherine typed back quickly:

Katherine: Maybe he's just riding his name. Not everyone has your vision.

E: Flattery won't get you what you want any faster, honey. But I appreciate it. Tomorrow night?

Katherine: As always. I'll say I'm working late.

Michael retreated silently to their bedroom before Katherine could return, slipping back under the covers and feigning sleep when she entered. He felt the mattress dip as she returned to bed, her hand briefly resting on his shoulder—a gesture that once brought comfort, now sending ice through his veins.

"Sleep well, my dear," he thought, keeping his breathing steady. "Enjoy the game while you can."

The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the industrial district looked unremarkable from outside—peeling paint, boarded windows, chain-link fence with prominently displayed "No Trespassing" signs. Perfect for their purposes.

Michael entered through the loading dock, the heavy metal door sliding shut behind him. Inside, the space had been transformed. State-of-the-art workstations filled the central area, surrounded by prototype assembly equipment. Glass-walled meeting rooms occupied one corner, while a comfortable lounge space with couches and a kitchenette occupied another.

"There he is!" Megan called out, waving from her workstation. "Just in time for the big reveal!"

Michael smiled, his first genuine smile of the day. "Show me what you've got."

Olivia emerged from one of the glass offices, tablet in hand. "We've been busy while you've been playing corporate executive."

"I can see that," Michael nodded appreciatively, taking in the transformed space. "This is incredible. How did you get all this set up so quickly?"

"Money works wonders," Olivia replied with a smirk. "Especially the ridiculous amount you transferred. Speaking of which, where exactly did nearly four hundred million dollars come from overnight?"

"Let's just say I made some very educated guesses in the market," Michael replied, keeping his tone light. "What matters is that we have the resources we need."

Megan practically bounced with excitement. "Forget about the money. You have to see what we've developed!"

She led them to her workstation, where a prototype smartphone sat on a testing pad. Unlike conventional designs, this one featured a seamless surface with no visible buttons.

"This," she announced proudly, "is NeuralTouch."

She picked up the device, and the screen immediately illuminated at her touch. "The interface learns from how you hold it—pressure patterns, finger temperature, even the slight electrical signals from your nervous system. Watch this."

She handed the device to Olivia, and the interface immediately reconfigured, adjusting to her different grip pattern. When she passed it to Michael, it changed again, optimizing for his hand size and pressure points.

"It's incredible," Michael said, genuinely impressed. "You developed this in days?"

"I've been theorizing about biometric interfaces for years," Megan explained, adjusting her glasses. "But no one would fund the research. Until now."

"And that's just the interface," Olivia added, gesturing for them to follow her to her workstation. "The real magic is in the security system."

She activated a holographic display showing complex authentication protocols. "I call it QuantumLock. It applies the same principles I use in art authentication to digital security."

"Meaning?" Michael prompted.

"Meaning it's virtually unhackable," Olivia replied confidently. "Traditional security relies on barriers—passwords, encryption, firewalls. QuantumLock uses a different approach. It recognizes patterns specific to authentic users and rejects anything that doesn't match those exact patterns."

"Like identifying a real Rembrandt from a forgery," Michael noted.

Olivia's eyes lit up. "Exactly! Even the best forgery has microscopic tells. Same with digital intruders. QuantumLock identifies those tells and locks them out instantly."

Michael walked slowly around the workspace, taking in their achievements. "You've both accomplished more in days than most tech companies do in years."

"Well, we had your blueprints to start with," Megan pointed out. "And enough funding to skip the usual begging-for-resources phase."

"Still," Michael insisted, "this is exceptional work."

Olivia approached with three champagne flutes. "I think we've earned a little celebration, don't you?"

They clinked glasses, the sound echoing in the cavernous warehouse.

"To Crawford Digital," Megan suggested.

"Actually," Michael corrected, "I've been thinking of a different name. How does 'Phoenix Technologies' sound?"

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Rising from the ashes? A bit on the nose, isn't it?"

"Only if you know the story," Michael replied with a cryptic smile. "And right now, only I do."

Their glasses clinked again. "To Phoenix, then," Olivia declared.

As they sipped their champagne, Michael's emergency phone line rang—a sound that froze him mid-sip. Only a handful of people had that number, and it was never used for trivial matters.

"Excuse me," he said, stepping away to answer. "This is Michael."

His father's voice came through, tense and urgent. "Michael, I need you at the office immediately. I've discovered irregularities in Eric's Westside Development funding. Significant discrepancies that could damage the company."

Michael's grip tightened on the phone. "What kind of irregularities?"

"Not over the phone," Richard replied sharply. "Just get here. And Michael?"

"Yes, Father?"

Richard's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Trust no one. This goes deeper than I initially thought."

The line went dead, leaving Michael staring at his phone, the celebration forgotten as a new storm gathered on the horizon.