Rise To Ascension: The Poor Zillionaire

Chapter 1: The Car Accident

The worst part about dying wasn't the pain. It was the clarity.

My name is Alex Snow, and I was supposed to die today.

I watched the headlights of the incoming truck getting larger in my windshield as I felt time was slowing down to a crawl as my pathetic life flashed before my eyes.

Three years of marriage to Lily Snow, who happened to be the brilliant CEO of Snow Innovations.

Three years of being subtly put down at family dinners with my wife's family as they never saw me, an orphan with no background worthy of marrying someone like Lily and sharing the same bed with her.

Three years of watching my wife's eyes linger on Damien Carter whenever he entered a room.

Damien Carter. Who happened to be my supposed rival. The man who seemed to exist purely for the sake of reminding me of my insecurities.

The impact came with a loud sickening crunch. The metal bent easily like it was paper as my sedan folded like butter around me.

The airbag hit my chest and face, leaving me dazed but somehow conscious as the car spun off the rain-slicked road and down the side.

Blood slowly trickled into my eyes, seeping from the wound that I had gotten but wasn't sure exactly where because my whole body was on fire. My ribs were aching with each shallow breath I took. The world outside my shattered windshield tilted and swayed.

Footsteps approached quickly as someone got down from the truck, splashing through puddles. At first I assumed that it was a frantic person coming to help me, call for 911.

A burly man in a baseball cap looked through my window, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone.

"Yeah, it's done," he said, his voice muffled through the crumpled door. "Car's totaled. He ain't moving."

I kept perfectly still, something instinctive in me warning me to play dead. This wasn't normal at all. I held my breath and prayed that I wouldn't move as the man continued speaking.

"Looks dead to me, Mrs. Snow. Want me to check his pulse to be sure?"

My blood turned to ice, when I heard that name. There has to be a mistake. There was no way on earth that she would do this to me.

Mrs. Snow. Lily. My wife.

"Nah, he's definitely not breathing," the man continued speaking, not bothered by the fact that he might have killed a man. Was he a serial killer that his heart had hardened like this.

"Blood everywhere. No one's walking away from this. I'll clear out before anyone shows up."

The hitman—because that's what he was, wasn't he?—took one last look at me before hurrying back up the road.

I remained motionless, my mind reeling with both pain and confusion as I tried to process what I had just heard.

Lily had arranged this. My own wife had paid to have me killed. The woman I'd supported through her MBA, whose company I'd poured my savings into, who I'd loved despite her growing coldness—she wanted me dead.

Headlights shone over the wreckage that was my car, blinding me momentarily as another car stopped above.

I heard the slam of a car door, then frantic footsteps sliding down the muddy slope.

"Snow! God damn it!"

I recognized that voice. Damien Carter. What the hell was he doing here?

"Alex! Can you hear me?" Damien's face appeared at my window, his expression genuinely panicked as he tried to search for me, his eyes widening in fear when he saw my unmoving body.

He yanked at my door, cursing when it wouldn't budge.

Why would Damien Carter care if I lived or died? The man had been a thorn in my side since I'd met him, constantly undermining me at all events, stealing clients from me, seeming to take great delight and pleasure in flirting with my wife while I stood by helplessly, not wanting to make a scene and being put down for having a tragic masculinity.

"Hang on," Damien muttered, more to himself as he was pulling out his phone from the pocket.

"I'm calling an ambulance."

I wanted to speak, to ask him what game he was playing right now, to stop the act and leave me to die so he could be with my wife like he wanted to, but my body refused to cooperate.

"Yes, there's been an accident on Riverdale Road, about two miles east of the highway exit," Damien was saying. "The car went off the road. Driver's trapped. He's—" His voice cracked as he cleared his throat and continued speaking.

"He's in bad shape. Please hurry."

As he spoke, I smelled something burning. Damien noticed it too.

"Shit," he hissed, ending the call. "Alex, I need to get you out of here now."

With strength I wouldn't have expected from his lean frame but seemed that I had underestimated him, Damien pulled at my door until the mangled metal gave way, as he lifted it single handley which was literally impossible and threw it to the side like it was paper and dusted his hands.

He fumbled with my seatbelt, his hands surprisingly gentle as he assessed my injuries, carefully.

"This is going to hurt," he warned, as he slid one hand underneath my knees and the other behind my back.

The pain as he lifted me was excruciating, to say the least. Black spots were present at the back of my vision as he carried me away from the car.

We'd barely made it twenty feet when the car exploded behind us. The heat was hot on my back as Damien stumbled forward, shielding me with his body as my car exploded into bits and pieces. If Damien hadn't pulled me out of there, I doubt there would be a body left to identify me with.

"Stay with me, Alex," Damien urged, desperately lowering me carefully to the ground. "The ambulance is coming. Just stay with me."