THE FALLEN BILLIONAIRE BUILDING A DEAD ZONE EMPIRE

February, 14^th 2027

Acid rain poured over District 13, turning industrial dust into thick, black sludge. Inside a dilapidated warehouse with a leaking roof, Aiden lay gasping for air. His expensive tailored suit was torn and filthy, a stark contrast to the two figures standing before him under a sturdy black umbrella.

Gina, the woman who had slept by his side for seven years, now looked down at him as if he were nothing more than a pile of trash blocking her path. Beside her, Lewis stood with a victorious smirk, his arm possessively wrapped around Gina’s waist.

"Why, Gina?" Aiden’s voice was hoarse, his throat feeling as though it had been scorched by chemicals.

Gina knelt, the tip of her high-heeled shoe pressing into Aiden's bloody palm. "Why? You’re still asking why, Aiden? You’re a genius, but you’re boring. You were so buried in your own world, in that Neural-Wealth algorithm, that you forgot this world is driven by ambition, not idealism."

"I built everything for you..." Aiden coughed, black blood staining the concrete floor.

Lewis laughed, his voice echoing through the empty space. "And we thank you for that, buddy. Neural-Wealth belongs to me now. That asset transfer contract you signed this morning? That was my golden ticket to the top of the world. You’re just a tool, Aiden. A tool that is no longer useful."

"The liquid in your coffee earlier..." Gina whispered, leaning close to Aiden’s ear. "It was a prototype nerve toxin. It won't leave a trace. The police will assume you died of an overdose in this slum. Ironic, isn't it? The great billionaire dying in a trash heap."

"Gina... Lewis..." Aiden clenched his fists, his nails digging into his own palms. "You... will not... win."

"We’ve already won, darling." Gina stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her gown. "Goodbye, Aiden. Thank you for the fortune."

Lewis flicked a lit lighter toward a pile of gasoline canisters in the corner. The fire spread rapidly, devouring everything. As Aiden's vision began to blur, he watched the two of them walk away without a single backward glance.

The heat of the flames began to lick at his skin. Aiden closed his eyes. If I am given one more chance... I will not be your stepping stone. I will be the black hole that swallows you all.

--

January, 12^th 2026

The chime of a silver spoon hitting a porcelain cup jolted Aiden awake.

His nose no longer smelled smoke and burning flesh; instead, it was the aroma of expensive Blue Mountain coffee and the fresh scent of lilies. Aiden opened his eyes with a violent start. His breath was shallow and rapid.

"Darling? Are you daydreaming again?"

That soft voice made the hair on the back of Aiden's neck stand up. He turned to his side. Gina sat there, draped in a white silk gown, looking like an angel descended from heaven. She was spreading jam onto her toast with elegant, fluid motions.

Aiden stared at his hands. There was no blood. A Patek Philippe watch was wrapped around his wrist. He was in the dining room of his mansion, overlooking his private harbor.

"Aiden? What’s wrong? You’re so pale," Gina said, setting down her knife, her face showing a look of concern that seemed incredibly real. She reached out her hand, intending to touch Aiden’s forehead.

Aiden instinctively pulled his head back, dodging the touch.

Gina’s hand froze in mid-air. She blinked. "Aiden?"

"I just... didn't get enough sleep," Aiden’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears. Cold and sharp.

He glanced at the digital calendar on the table. January 12th.

His heart hammered against his ribs. This was thirty days before that night in the District 13 warehouse. He was back. He had truly returned to the past.

"Oh, it must be because of that Neural-Wealth project, right?" Gina smiled sweetly, returning to her seat. "Lewis called earlier. He said the investors from Global Capital are impatient to see the final demo tomorrow. You’ve prepared the access rights documents, haven't you?"

Aiden stared at Gina in silence. In his previous life, he would have nodded immediately and talked about how much he trusted Lewis as his best business partner. But now, every word that came out of Gina’s mouth sounded like the hiss of a snake.

"The documents are in my office," Aiden replied curtly. He took a sip of his coffee—the same coffee that, in his past life, Gina might have already started spiking with low-dose toxins.

"Good. You know, I just want your burden to be lighter. You’ve worked too hard, Aiden. Let Lewis handle the bureaucracy; you should just focus on the technical side," Gina said while chewing her toast.

Aiden set his cup down. "You’re right, Gina. I need to focus."

Focus on destroying you both, Aiden thought.

Aiden’s phone vibrated on the table. A message arrived from Lewis.

L: Aiden, buddy! Are we still on for lunch today? The investors are pushing. Let me know if the documents are ready.

Aiden typed a reply with a steady thumb.

A: Of course, Lewis. Everything is going according to plan. See you at the usual restaurant.

"Lewis?" Gina asked, glancing at Aiden’s phone.

"Yes. He’s very excited about the demo tomorrow," Aiden stood up, adjusting his suit. "I have to get to the office now. There are a few last 'adjustments' I need to make to the algorithm."

Gina stood and approached him, intending to kiss Aiden’s cheek. Aiden turned his body as if reaching for his briefcase, making Gina’s kiss hit nothing but air.

"I’m leaving," Aiden said without looking back.

Once inside his Rolls-Royce, Aiden locked the doors and took a deep breath. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from a surge of adrenaline.

He powered on his specialized, encrypted laptop. A black screen appeared with rows of green code flowing rapidly. This was the core of Neural-Wealth, the AI system capable of predicting global market fluctuations with 99% accuracy. In his past life, this was what had made Gina and Lewis economic rulers.

"You want this system?" Aiden whispered. "I’ll give it to you."

His fingers danced across the keyboard with inhuman speed. He didn't delete the code. Instead, he strengthened it, making it look ten times more powerful than before. However, deep within the structure of the algorithm, Aiden planted a Logic Bomb.

Every time the system generated a profit for the user, it would automatically transfer 0.01% of the raw data and transaction logs to an untraceable anonymous server. More lethally, Aiden inserted a Slow-Decay command.

After a hundred days of intensive use, the system would begin to provide slightly off-target predictions—just enough to make the user invest more heavily before it finally imploded, draining all liquidity from the connected accounts.

"Mr. Aiden, we have arrived at the headquarters," his driver, Marcus, broke Aiden's concentration.

Aiden closed his laptop. He looked up at the Crowne Tech skyscraper towering before him. At the top of the building, his company logo shone arrogantly.

"Marcus," Aiden called out.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Find out who owns the vacant land in District 13, Sector C-4. I want to buy it today. Use a shell company under the name 'Sovereign.' Don't let anyone in this office know, including Gina."

Marcus looked surprised through the rearview mirror. "District 13, Sir? But that’s an industrial waste zone. The investment value is zero."

"Just do it, Marcus. And buy the old warehouse at the end of the road in that sector. The one with the collapsing roof."

"Understood, Sir."

Aiden stepped out of the car. The morning air in the city center felt fresh, but Aiden knew that beneath this luxury, betrayal was lurking. He walked into his office lobby, every employee bowing in respect.

On the top floor, in a lavish conference room, Lewis was already waiting for him with a wide grin and open arms.

"Aiden! Our hero!" Lewis approached him, shaking Aiden’s hand firmly. "Ready to shake the world today?"

Aiden smiled—a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course, Lewis. The world will never be the same after today."

"Great! The investors have gathered. They want to see the miracle of Neural-Wealth," Lewis draped an arm over Aiden’s shoulder, leading him toward the presentation room.

Aiden glanced at Lewis’s hand on his shoulder. He imagined that hand burning in the District 13 warehouse. But not now. Not yet.

"Lewis," Aiden called as they reached the massive doors.

"Yes, Aiden?"

"Do you believe in fate?"

Lewis laughed loudly. "Fate? I believe in money and your intelligence, Aiden. Why?"

"Just asking," Aiden pushed the conference room doors open. "Because fate sometimes has a funny way of returning to its owner."

Lewis only frowned, dismissing it as the philosophical mumbling of a strange genius. He had no idea that inside Aiden’s bag sat a scenario of destruction that had already begun to tick.