The Rebirth Of A Titan

I clutched the leather folder against my chest as I ran up the stairs of my porch. My heart was thumping so hard I thought it might burst through my ribs.

Twenty-five million dollars. That was the number on the final page of the contract in my hand.

This deal was going to change everything for my family. It was the lifeline our company needed to stop the bleeding. Our family legacy was finally safe from the brink of ruin.

I didn't even call Sarah to give her the news. I wanted to see the look on her face when I told her we were finally safe from the banks and the creditors.

The house was oddly quiet when I pushed the front door open. I kicked off my shoes and tossed my keys on the side table, grinning like a fool.

"Sarah? Babe, you home?" I called out. My voice was thick with excitement.

There was no answer from the living room or the kitchen. I figured she was upstairs taking a nap or getting ready for dinner.

I headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I could already imagine us popping a bottle of expensive champagne and celebrating all night long.

As I reached the landing, I heard a sound coming from our bedroom. It was a low, muffled giggle that made me stop in my tracks.

That wasn't Sarah’s usual laugh. It sounded playful and intimate in a way that didn't feel right.

I walked toward the bedroom door. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the golden handle.

I pushed the door open slowly, expecting to surprise her. Instead, the world seemed to stop spinning the moment the hinges creaked.

The sight in front of me felt like a physical blow to the face. I actually stumbled back against the doorframe.

There was Sarah, my wife of six years, wrapped in the arms of another man on our bed. And that man was Marcus.

My half-brother. The person I had trusted with my business and my life.

They both looked up at me. Sarah didn't scream. She didn't even try to pull the sheets up to cover herself.

"Victor. You’re home early," she said. Her voice was flat and cold, without a hint of guilt.

"What the fuck is this?" I managed to choke out. The contract in my hand suddenly felt very heavy.

Marcus sat up and leaned back against the headboard. He had a smug, disgusting smirk on his face that I wanted to tear off.

"I told you he’d be back sooner or later, Sarah," Marcus said. He looked at me like I was an annoying bug.

"Is this a joke? Marcus, she’s my wife! What the hell are you doing in my house?" I yelled.

Marcus laughed. It was a sharp, jagged sound that cut through the air.

"Your house? Your wife? Don't be so dramatic, Victor. You never really owned any of this," Marcus said.

I looked at Sarah, searching for some sign of remorse. "Sarah, talk to me. Tell me this isn't what it looks like."

Sarah rolled her eyes and reached for a cigarette on the nightstand. She lit it and blew a cloud of smoke toward me.

"Oh, shut up, Victor. You were always so boring. Always working, always talking about the 'company' and 'duty'," she spat.

I felt like someone had poured ice water into my veins. "I did everything for you. I worked myself to the bone so you could have this life!"

"And we appreciate that, really. You were a great little worker bee while we stayed behind and had our fun," Marcus said.

He stood up from the bed. He was tall and athletic, looking much stronger than I felt in my cheap business suit.

“How long?” I choked out.

"We’ve been together for five years, Victor. Right under your big, stupid nose," Sarah added with a smirk.

I felt a wave of nausea hit me. Five years. My entire marriage had been a lie.

"The business... the losses we had last year. That was you?" I asked, the realization finally hitting me.

Marcus started walking toward me. "Of course. We had to bleed the company dry so I could buy it for pennies once you failed."

"You sabotaged everything. You almost ruined the family name!" I lunged at him, driven by pure desperation.

Before I could land a punch, Marcus moved with a speed I didn't expect. He caught my wrist and twisted it hard.

I let out a cry of pain as I fell to my knees. Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver dagger.

"You were always the weak one, Victor. Dad should have left everything to me from the start," Marcus hissed.

He plunged the blade deep into my stomach. I felt a cold, sharp sensation, followed by a heat that burned like fire.

I gasped, my hands flying to the wound. Warm, sticky blood began to soak through my white shirt.

"Marcus... why?" I whispered. I could feel my strength draining away with every heartbeat.

Sarah got off the bed and walked over to stand beside him. She looked down at me with pure disgust.

"You were just a stepping stone, honey. A boring, predictable stepping stone," she said.

Marcus twisted the knife before pulling it out. I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my gut as the world started to blur.

"Wait, Sarah. Tell him the best part before he goes. He deserves to know the truth about his precious mother," Marcus said.

Sarah chuckled. It was the most evil sound I had ever heard in my life.

"Your mother didn't have a stroke, Victor," she whispered.

Marcus smiled wider.

“Slow toxin, actually,” he said. “Very effective.”

My heart shattered. My mother had been in a wheelchair for three years because of that "stroke".

"We needed her shares to get the majority vote. She was just in the way, just like you are now," Sarah said.

I tried to speak, but only a wet, gurgling sound came out of my mouth. Blood was filling my throat.

They killed my mother’s spirit, and now they were killing me. All for money and power.

Marcus kicked me in the side, rolling me onto my back. I stared up at the ceiling, my vision fading into darkness.

"Rest in peace, brother. I’ll make sure to spend your twenty-five million very well," Marcus said.

They turned away from me and started talking about what they were going to do with the money. They didn't even wait for me to stop breathing.

I lay there in the pool of my own blood.

"You bastards," I wheezed. I tried to grab Marcus's leg, but he kicked me hard in the face, sending me sprawling back.

"Don't worry," Marcus said. "Once you're gone, I'll take over the company. Sarah and I will enjoy that twenty-five million."

“You’ll rot in hell," I managed to say. My voice was getting quieter, and the room was starting to spin.

"Maybe," Sarah said. She turned her back on me and started picking out a dress from the closet. "But we'll be rich here first."

Marcus stood over me and watched as I struggled to breathe. I could see the light in the hallway flickering.

Everything started to fade. The pain was disappearing, replaced by a cold, heavy numbness that started at my toes and moved upward.

But deeper than the cold was a rage. It was a pure, icy hatred that burned brighter than any physical pain.

If there is a god or a devil, I made a silent prayer to whoever was listening.

I didn't want heaven. I didn't want peace. I wanted to come back and make them scream for what they did.

The last thing I saw was the two of them laughing as they walked toward the balcony.

I closed my eyes. I hated them. I hated myself for being so blind. I wanted to kill them both a thousand times over.

My heart gave one last, agonizing thump against my ribs. Then, there was nothing but the cold.

I died in that room, surrounded by betrayal and blood. But my soul was screaming for vengeance.