Reborn CEO: Kicking Out the Ingrate Son-in-Law

Chapter 1: Death and Rebirth Emma, you poisonous woman! You killed my mother, and now you will not even spare my son! The cold voice cut through the sterile hospital air like a blade of ice. Lucas Lin, immaculate in an expensive tailored suit, grabbed Emma by the collar and slammed her against the wall with brutal force. His eyes, once warm and gentle as summer sunlight, now gleamed with a venom that made her blood run cold. On the hospital bed behind him, the heart monitor emitted a piercing alarm that seemed to echo endlessly through the corridor. Her sixteen-year-old son, Leo, lay pale and still upon the white sheets, his chest no longer rising, no longer falling. The silence that followed the alarm was the most terrible sound Emma had ever heard. Emma's body was covered in needle marks from the IV drips they had forced upon her, tracks of purple and yellow marring her skin. Her throat was too dry to form complete words, ravaged by days of neglect and the drugs they had pumped into her system. She could only watch helplessly as the man she had supported for years, the man she had made her husband and given everything to, looked at her with pure, undiluted hatred. She was the CEO of the Su Group, controlling a vast business empire that spanned continents, yet she had been catastrophically blind to his true nature. She had let this wolf into her home, trusted him completely with her heart and her company, believed his lies about his pure and innocent first love, Bella Bai. She had been a fool of the highest order, and now she was paying the ultimate price. I did not, she managed to whisper, using her last bit of strength to defend herself against the monstrous accusation. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, warm and coppery against her cracked lips. Lucas sneered, a cruel twist of his handsome mouth, and released her collar. He let her crumple to the cold tile floor like a discarded rag doll, like something without value, without worth. He turned to Bella, who stood nearby in an elegant dress, her belly slightly swollen with the child that should have been Emma's shame to bear, her dark eyes filled with a hidden triumph that she made no effort to conceal. Emma, stop pretending, Bella said softly, her voice dripping with false sympathy that made Emma want to scream. The medicine in Leo's IV, you added it yourself. Everyone knows how unstable you have become. Emma's eyes widened in horror and dawning comprehension. She looked at the IV bag on the bedside table, the one she had personally prepared for her son with trembling hands and a mother's desperate love. It was all a setup. Every moment, every gesture, every whispered word of comfort had been part of an elaborate trap designed to destroy her. From the very beginning, it had been a trap. The car accident that took her parents. The gradual transfer of power. The isolation from old friends and loyal colleagues. The slow poisoning of her reputation. All of it had been orchestrated with patient, meticulous cruelty. As her consciousness faded into gray shadows, she heard Lucas's cold words drifting down from somewhere far above, speaking of her as if she were already dead. The Su Group is mine now, every share, every asset. Bella and my child will live well in your place, in your home, with your money. You are nothing. Darkness swallowed her whole, pulling her down into a void without light or hope. But in that absolute darkness, a single thought burned like a star refusing to die. If I could do it all again, I would make them pay. I would tear their world apart and dance on the ruins. I would never be weak again. Sunlight pierced through the window, warm and golden and impossibly bright. Emma's eyes snapped open. She was standing. Her feet were planted on soft grass. The smell of earth and fresh flowers filled her nostrils, rich and alive and utterly wrong. A graveyard. In front of her, two polished headstones bore the names she knew all too well, carved in elegant script. Her parents. Her beloved, murdered parents. What, she breathed, the word barely audible. She looked down at her hands, turning them over in the sunlight. No needle marks. No bruises. No blood. Her skin was smooth, unmarred, younger than it had been in years. She touched her face with trembling fingers. The texture was wrong, the lines softer, the skin tighter. Thirty-two. She was thirty-two again, the age she had been when her parents died. Emma, are you alright? The voice came from beside her, smooth and concerned and sickeningly familiar. She turned to see Lucas, dressed in a black suit of impeccable cut, his face wearing an expression of perfect, practiced concern. He reached for her hand with the easy confidence of a man who believed he owned her. Take care of yourself, he said gently, his voice like honey over poison. You still have me. You still have us. Him. The man who had killed her and her son. The man who had stolen her company and destroyed everything she loved. The man she had trusted with her heart, her body, her fortune, her very life. Emma's entire body trembled with suppressed rage so powerful it threatened to c***k her ribs. But years of business training, years of maintaining composure in boardrooms and negotiating tables, kept her face carefully, perfectly neutral. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Thank you, she said quietly, pulling her hand away with a casualness that belied the storm raging inside her. I appreciate your concern. Lucas's eyes flickered with something brief and unreadable, surprise or suspicion or perhaps merely irritation at her withdrawal, before his warm smile returned like a mask sliding back into place. The funeral is over. Let us go home. Leo is waiting in the car. Home. The word tasted bitter as ashes on her tongue. Emma looked around with new eyes, cataloging every detail. The graveyard was filled with mourners in dark clothing, hundreds of them. Her parents' old friends, business associates, senior employees of the Su Group, political connections, media figures. All here to pay their respects to the Su family, all watching her with varying degrees of sympathy, curiosity, or calculation. Her parents had died in a car accident on a mountain road. An accident that she now knew, with the terrible clarity of hindsight, was anything but. Zhao Group, she thought, the name rising from her memory like a shark from deep water. Bella's secret backer. They arranged the accident. They paid for the hit. They have been working with Lucas from the start. And Lucas had known. He had always known. He had probably helped plan it. Mommy. A small voice broke through her thoughts like a beam of light through storm clouds. Emma looked down to see Leo, nine years old, alive, standing beside her in a black suit that was slightly too large for his small frame. His eyes were red and swollen, as if he had been crying for hours, and his lower lip trembled with the effort of holding back fresh tears. Leo. Her son. Her beautiful, brave, precious boy. Alive. Standing right here, warm and breathing and real. She wanted to grab him, crush him against her chest, hold him so tightly that nothing could ever take him away again. She wanted to weep with relief and rage and the unbearable weight of second chances. But she forced herself to stay calm, to maintain the facade that Lucas expected, that the watching crowd expected. Let us go home, she said, her voice steady despite everything. She took his small hand in hers, feeling the warmth of his fingers, the pulse of life beneath his skin. Leo's fingers curled trustingly around hers. Alive. He was alive. The words repeated in her mind like a prayer, like a battle cry. As they walked toward the waiting car, Emma's mind raced at a furious pace, processing, calculating, planning. She had been reborn. Seven years earlier, on the day of her parents' funeral. She had been given the most precious gift imaginable, a chance to rewrite the ending of her story. Lucas already had some control over the company. During the chaos and grief after her parents' death, in her naivety and vulnerability, she had given him power of attorney for certain decisions. Not everything, not yet, but enough. Enough that she could not simply fire him without causing significant damage to the company, without triggering legal battles that would drain resources and destroy shareholder confidence. The core secrets, she remembered with sickening clarity. He has access to client lists, supplier contracts, financial projections, strategic plans. He knows where the bodies are buried because I showed him. If she moved against him now, openly and aggressively, the company would suffer catastrophic damage. The employees would suffer. The stock price would plummet. Everything her parents had spent their lives building would be at risk of collapse. She had to be smart. Patient. Strategic. She had to take back control, piece by piece, account by account, secret by secret, before she could strike the final blow. Emma, I will handle the company matters for now, Lucas said as they got into the car, settling into the leather seat beside her with the ease of a man who believed the world belonged to him. You should rest. Grieve. Leave everything to me. Of course you will, she thought, her smile remaining pleasant and vacant. That is what you have always wanted. Total control without the burden of resistance. Thank you, she said aloud, looking out the window at the passing cityscape. I appreciate it more than you know. Lucas smiled, satisfied with her compliance, with her weakness. He thought she was still the same Emma, the trusting, naive woman who had given him everything without asking for proof, without demanding accountability. He was wrong. He had never been more wrong in his life. That night, after Lucas had retreated to his study to make phone calls in private, and Leo was safely asleep in his room down the hall, Emma sat alone in her bedroom with the door locked. She took out her phone and dialed a number from memory, her fingers steady despite the earthquake of emotions still raging within her. Hello, a familiar voice answered, gravelly with age and authority. Director Wang, it is Emma. I need to see you tomorrow at the office. Early. Of course, Emma. What time would work for you? Nine o'clock. And Director Wang, this conversation stays strictly between us. No one else can know we are meeting. Not Lucas, not anyone. Do you understand? There was a pause on the other end, a moment of consideration. Then, Understood. I will be there. Emma hung up and stared out the window at the city lights glittering below like a field of stars. The Su Group headquarters rose in the distance, a monument to her parents' dreams and her own determination. Director Wang was the company's Chief Operating Officer, one of the few executives she trusted completely, a man who had worked alongside her father from the earliest days. He would help her understand exactly how much power Lucas had gained in the weeks since her parents' death, and more importantly, how to systematically take it back. Her phone buzzed with a text from Lucas. Do not worry about anything. I will take care of the company. Get some rest. You need it. Emma stared at the message, reading the subtext beneath the caring words. I will take care of the company, indeed. I will take care of everything, including your destruction. She typed a brief reply. Thank you. I will try to rest. Then she opened a new note on her phone and began to write with furious speed, pouring out everything she remembered from her past life, every detail that might give her an advantage. Lucas Lin, ongoing affair with Bella Bai, began approximately three years ago. Connection to Zhao Group, financial and possibly criminal. Parents' accident, not an accident, arranged by Zhao Group with Lucas's knowledge. Company secrets he currently controls, full inventory needed. Bella Bai, real background, family connections, financial history. Zhao Group, ownership structure, key personnel, vulnerabilities. One by one, she listed everything she remembered from her past life. Every betrayal. Every secret. Every weakness. Every moment of cruelty that she had been too blind to see at the time. When she was done, she looked at the list and smiled coldly, a smile that held no warmth, no mercy. This time, Lucas, you will not win. This time, I will bury you. In the room next door, Leo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with eyes that were far too old for his nine-year-old face. His small hands clenched into fists beneath the covers, the knuckles white with tension. He remembered everything. The hospital room with its smell of antiseptic and death. The pain that had consumed his body like fire. His mother's tears falling on his face, warm and salt-bitter. He remembered Lucas's cold voice speaking of inheritance and replacement. He remembered Bella's triumphant smile as she watched him die. He remembered dying, the darkness closing in, the final breath that was not a breath at all but a surrender. I am back, he thought, the words reverberating through his mind with the force of a vow. I am nine years old again. Mom is alive. I have a second chance. He turned his head to look at the laptop on his desk, the screen glowing faintly in the darkness like a portal to another world. This time, he promised silently, his jaw set with determination that no child should need. This time, I will protect Mom. No matter what it takes. No matter what I have to become. He did not know that in the room next door, his mother was making the exact same promise to herself, with the exact same ferocity. Both of them, reborn. Both of them, planning in the darkness. Both of them, armed with the terrible knowledge of what was to come. Neither of them knew that the other remembered. Neither of them suspected that they were not alone in their secret war. But they would learn. In time, they would learn. End of Chapter 1