The Worthless Son-In-Law's Trillion Dollars Secret

Romeo's Point of View

The soapy liquid felt icy. It had been icy for nearly half an hour, but still I scrubbed since Mrs. Chen loathed dingy grout. My knees stung on the tough floor tiles, plus my lower back had this twinge I now ignore. Nobody cared for Romeo's aches.

I dunked the brush back in suds and fought the grout streak dividing floor tiles. Mrs. Chen would check this bathroom in one hour, and should she see one speck of soil, she’d make me redo it. Three years as husband taught me her perfect vision, a level I could not quite meet. Yet, I tried hard.

The big house felt still today. Mr. Chen was off trying to rescue his tanking firm, Margaret got her nails done at a ritzy place, and Emma still slept in her top floor room. That room sat near mine, except mine wasn’t truly a space at all. It was a storage place that held a mattress, a room that made me fade bit by bit.

A noise rang through this bath space. It took some time to know it was my phone ringing. I rushed to grab it from my jeans, leaving damp soap blobs on my old jeans. Nobody ever gave me calls. My phone was half dead, just for times that were dire but don't exist. The screen flashed some digits I did not know.

I paused before speaking, my damp thumb dancing above the phone. Something strange inside begged me not to grab this call. But I felt so nosy, and being nosy was one thing I still owned.

"Hello?" My tone felt tinier than I wished it.

"Romeo Martinez?" The man's voice was smooth, strong, and sure. He felt like a person who gives commands and folks just listen. "Are you him?"

"Yes," I answered softly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Vincent Shaw. I must say one thing to flip your whole world upside down." He paused there, and quiet made my poor heart thump hard. "Today's your big day, yes? Your twenty-eighth big one?"

My hand clutched hard around the phone now. How does this guy know my own big day? How does he know my real name? Questions burst in my head like mad bright stars. I rose from the floor all shaky, my knees left wet shapes on the floor.

"How do you know?" I asked him. My voice was just barely heard.

"Because your old grandpa told me. Right before his time, he told when I'd call." The man breathed slow. "Romeo, that's not your only name. It is, but that's not all that makes you. Things from your life you cannot recall got swiped from you."

The small room felt so stuffed and close now. I went to the hall, my feet left marks on the soft rug that Chen would yell at me for then. But that felt small now to what this man spoke to me.

"I don't get it," I blurted, a total fib. A slice of me got it, like, totally. A slice of me knew my head was a bit off. Odd pics would pop in my head, making no sense. A kid learning to box in a big room with wood floors. Guys in nice suits yapping about cash and clout. A dude with soft eyes calling me some strange name. I took them as dreams, or fake tales my messed-up mind made to ditch real life.

"Your life's done, as you see it," Vincent Shaw said to me on phone. "In eight hours, meet me at Phoenix Empire HQ downtown. Show up, and it'll click. What you forgot will rush back."

"Phoenix Empire?" I'd heard that name, of course. All knew of Phoenix Empire here. The top dog company, worth tons of cash. The kind of spot Romeo the cleaner could not go, but to scrub toilets.

"Yep. Grab a cab. Ask for the top floor. Ask for me." He stopped. "And Romeo? Trash the phone after the call. You're getting a new life tonight; you'll not want the old."

The line just cut.

I stood there with my phone, water falling on the floor. My head felt like a crazy top. Was this a weird joke? A prank on the lame in-law? But Vincent Shaw knew my birthday. He knew stuff he shouldn't have known.

"Romeo?" Emma's voice floated from above. Her tone was sharp, like it always did when talking to me. "Why all the racket? People need their sleep, you know."

"My bad," I shouted back without thinking. Sorry had become my second nature, a constant refrain.

I stared at my soaking hands. Soap clung like stubborn memories. A moment ago, I was just scrubbing a bathroom, and now a weirdo was claiming my life was fake. That my memory was gone. That I had a dead relative. And that I was somehow tied to a huge company.

My heart thumped like a trapped bird against my chest.

The clock said 9:47 AM. Vincent Shaw wanted to see me in eight hours, thirteen minutes. I needed to sneak out unnoticed. I had to reach Phoenix Empire HQ. I needed to brace myself for the unknown.

But, standing there wet, lost and scared, I noticed something else. Shaw's call had stirred something. Deep inside, beneath fear and doubt, a small flicker ignited after three years.

It tasted like hope.

I went back to cleaning the bathroom, leaving my phone behind. I wouldn't need it. Everything was shifting, and I would find my true self.

Tonight, right at 5:47 PM, my real life would start.