The Reborn Tycoon: Taking Back My Life

Cracks on the Glass

"That woman... she didn't look confused at all," Martin whispered in a hoarse voice, his bloodshot eye glaring fiercely at the now pitch-black television screen.

"Who do you mean? Your sweetly smiling wife?" Sienna asked casually, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the wooden wall of the cabin.

"Yes. The way she looked at that bastard," Martin clenched his fist on the table until his knuckles turned entirely white. "I am a businessman, Doctor. I read my counterparts' body language every single day to find the slightest hint of deception. But just now... Moana didn't display even a single ounce of doubt or suspicion."

"Perhaps your twin brother possesses an extraordinary acting talent to fool her. Especially in bed. You know, street rats sometimes know far better how to satisfy a woman than a rigid, workaholic executive like you," Sienna teased with a cynical smirk, deliberately provoking his emotions.

"This isn't just some cheap bedroom affair!" Martin snapped loudly, instantly triggering a stinging pain in his bruised throat. "It's her fundamental body language. That bastard's grip. The way Miller grabbed Moana's waist in front of hundreds of cameras was incredibly rough, forceful, and possessive. I have never treated Moana that harshly in public throughout our entire marriage. I always maintained proper etiquette and gentleness."

"So what is the problem if your brother acts a little rough?"

"The problem is Moana's reaction! Strangely... Moana actually leaned her head against him with a highly meaningful smile. She looked like she thoroughly enjoyed that possessive grip. She likes the new dominance displayed by that imposter."

"So what is the conclusion of this brilliant analysis of yours, Mr. CEO?" Sienna asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"My conclusion is, my wife might have already sensed that something is different about her husband, but she is deliberately turning a blind eye. She is thoroughly enjoying the power, the wildness, and the tyrannical aura that my brother brought into our home," Martin's breathing hitched rapidly as he endured the pain in his stomach. "Even worse, she might slowly be realizing the absolute truth and yet still chooses to side with that bastard for her own selfish satisfaction."

"Wow. A multi-layered betrayal from the people closest to you. How poetic and dramatic," Sienna said, clapping her hands slowly in a highly mocking manner. "So what is your grand plan now? To cry and mourn the miserable fate of your ruined marriage?"

"Lend me your phone, Doctor," Martin demanded, extending his trembling right hand.

"What on earth do you need my phone for in the middle of nowhere?"

"Just give me your phone! I am calling the Amsterdam city police right this second."

"Calling the police?" Sienna let out a soft laugh, one that sounded incredibly condescending to Martin's ears. "Has the excruciating pain in your stomach completely shattered your brain's rational functions?"

"I am perfectly sane! I have to report this identity theft to the authorities before Miller drains my company's entire treasury. They have a cybercrime department, forensics, and everything else needed to stop this absolute madness!"

"I am not giving you this phone until you start using your actual logical thinking, Martin," Sienna rejected bluntly.

"I have the right to report this! Give me your phone, Sienna!" Martin snapped, trying to reach for the woman's pocket.

Sienna took a step back, effortlessly dodging Martin's hand. She pulled a heavily protected smartphone out of her pocket, then placed it down on the wooden table, just slightly out of Martin's reach.

"Take it if you really want to be that stupid. But before you dial the police emergency number, let's use a little imagination. What exactly are you going to say to the emergency operator?" Sienna challenged, glaring directly into Martin's eyes. "Hello, my name is Martin Whitlock the billionaire. Please arrest the sharply dressed man who is currently hugging my wife on national television this morning?"

"I will demand they conduct a DNA test to prove that I am the real one and he is the imposter!" Martin answered with absolute conviction.

"You two are identical twins! Your DNA test results will show the exact same genetic structure in the eyes of the law! And do you have any idea how long it takes for a court to authorize an in-depth investigation into twin biological structures? Weeks! Even months!"

"I have high-ranking connections in the police force! The Amsterdam Police Commissioner plays golf with me every single weekend. He will definitely recognize my voice!" Martin argued, the veins bulging in his neck.

"That Police Commissioner plays golf with your money, not with you!" Sienna cut him off with a much louder, highly intimidating voice. "They respect your position as the ruler of the Whitlock Group. Right now, that money and that position are entirely in your brother's hands. Your brother could bribe that commissioner ten times over just to shut your mouth permanently!"

"I can prove all my memories about the company! I know the vault passwords, I know the board of directors' secrets!"

"And your brother could easily tell the police that a severely disfigured man, claiming to be him, is attempting to extort his company," Sienna stepped forward, pressing her index finger hard against Martin's bandaged chest. "Think about this very carefully, Martin. The police arrive at this forest. They find a man with a face destroyed like a monster, possessing absolutely zero ID, his body riddled with stab wounds, hysterically screaming and claiming to be the wealthiest CEO in the country. Where exactly do you think the police will take you?"

Martin fell completely silent. His mouth, which had been open to argue, snapped shut instantly.

"They will not take you to an interrogation room or a state-of-the-art forensics lab," Sienna continued, her tone dropping low but piercing straight into his sanity. "They will instantly throw you into an isolation cell at a psychiatric ward on the outskirts of the city. They will inject tranquilizers into your neck every single time you utter your wife's name. And your brother? Your brother will sit comfortably in your chair, make a fake public donation to that very asylum as a show of public sympathy, while ensuring you rot away forever behind foam-padded walls."

Sienna's final words smashed into Martin's logic like a massive iron sledgehammer.

Martin's chest rose and fell slowly. He lowered his gaze to stare at the black phone resting on the table. His finger, still stained with dried blood, moved slowly to hover over the screen. The numbers one, one, and two were already vividly pictured in his mind. It would only take one press of a finger on that green emergency call button.

But his finger stopped, hovering in mid-air.

Martin realized the absolute, undeniable truth in this mysterious doctor's words. In the real world, justice doesn't side with the truth. Justice only sides with whoever has the evidence, the money, and the power to control the narrative. Right now, he possessed absolutely none of those. He was merely a disfigured shadow without an identity. If he tried to play by the clean rules of the law, he would essentially be handing his own neck over to the executioner's noose.

"You're right," Martin whispered, sliding his finger away from the phone. His voice now sounded incredibly cold, as if every last shred of panic and despair had evaporated into nothingness.

"Good. It seems your business brain is finally starting to function again," Sienna said, pulling her phone back and slipping it into her pocket.

"The law will never be on my side. The police will merely become a protective shield for the bastard currently sitting in my chair," Martin stated slowly, his gaze turning completely hollow and darkly profound.

A massive mental transition was actively taking place inside the man. His past arrogance as a clean businessman who strictly followed the rules had been brutally slaughtered by betrayal. Now, a far more dangerous, ruthless tyrant was being born right here on this bloodstained operating table.

"So, what exactly are you going to use if not the law?" Sienna baited, smiling in deep satisfaction as she witnessed the drastic shift in Martin's aura.

"I have to use dirty tactics. Far dirtier than anything a filthy street rat like Miller could ever fathom," Martin replied, staring straight into Sienna's eyes. "I am going to snatch everything back from the shadows. I will completely destroy my own empire if I have to, bankrupting them until they are begging on the streets, before I reclaim it all."

"A highly ambitious plan. But you need strength to pull off something that insane. Thirsty?" Sienna asked, grabbing a bottle of mineral water and pouring it into a thick, clear glass.

Sienna pushed the glass, filled to the brim with water, right in front of Martin.

"Drink it slowly. I have to clean the leftover blood on this floor before it dries up and the metallic stench invites hungry bears into our cabin," Sienna said, turning her back to walk toward the cleaning supplies rack in the corner of the room.

Martin grabbed the thick glass with his right hand. The cold water inside looked perfectly clear. But the image of Miller kissing his wife's forehead with that triumphant smile violently flashed across his mind once again.

Absolute disgust. Boiling rage. A vengeance so fierce it was incinerating his entire sanity.

Martin's grip on the glass tightened forcefully. The veins on the back of his hand bulged outward as he struggled to contain the overwhelming pressure of his explosive emotions. He couldn't forget the way his brother's filthy hands had touched his wife's body. He couldn't forgive the smile of the woman who had effortlessly betrayed their marriage for the sake of fake power.

CRACK!

The sound of a hairline fracture echoed from the thick glass. Yet, Martin didn't loosen his grip in the slightest. His eye continued to stare blankly at the dark television screen.

"Martin, what are you doing? Stop breaking my things," Sienna scolded upon hearing the crack, turning her body around.

SHATTER!

The thick glass finally exploded into jagged pieces right inside Martin's clenched fist. The razor-sharp shards instantly dug deep into his palm and fingers. The clear water spilled across the wooden table, instantly turning a dark crimson as it mixed with the fresh blood pouring heavily from the man's hand.

"Damn it! Have you completely lost your mind?!" Sienna yelled, rushing back to the table with a panicked face as she saw the fresh blood dripping.

However, Martin felt absolutely no pain in his hand. He didn't even flinch. The stinging cuts from the shattered glass were nothing compared to the absolute destruction of his pride and his life.

Martin swatted away Sienna's hand as she tried to stop the bleeding. He looked down at the wooden table pooling with the mixture of water and his own blood. Using his severely lacerated, blood-drenched right index finger, Martin slowly began to drag his finger across the wooden surface.

His hand movements were stiff, yet fueled by an infinitely deep hatred. He traced out the letters one by one, using his own blood as the ink of death.

M - I - L - L - E - R.

Sienna stood perfectly still beside the table, staring down at the name written thickly in deep crimson blood.

"I swear upon this blood," Martin whispered, his voice literally vibrating the freezing air around them. "I will wipe this name off the face of the earth. And the woman who dared to stand by his side, I will make her beg for death right beneath my feet."

Martin slowly looked up, staring at Sienna with his one unbandaged eye. That gaze was the true gaze of an absolute tyrant fully prepared to embrace the darkness. An entirely merciless war had just begun from the very bottom of the abyss.