REBORN: AWAKENING OF THE INCREDIBLE HEIR OF THE BLACKWELL'S

chapter 7

Jacob’s eyes fluttered open, disoriented by the cold, sterile environment. The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting a harsh glow on the room. He tried to move, but his body felt foreign, heavy. As he looked around, panic set in—he was in a morgue.

“What… what’s happening?” Jacob whispered, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

He glanced down at his hands. They were different—smoother, a different shade. His pulse quickened as he noticed another body on the adjacent slab, covered by a white sheet. Dread clawed at his insides as he reached out and pulled the sheet back, revealing a face he knew all too well—his own.

“This can’t be real,” Jacob muttered, stumbling backwards until he collided with the wall. His mind raced, struggling to process the impossible.

A noise outside the door jolted him from his thoughts. He needed to get out, away from this nightmare. He grabbed a set of clothes from a nearby desk, dressing quickly. With one last haunted glance at his former body, he slipped out of the morgue, his heart pounding.

The hallways were deserted, the silence of the morgue pressing down on him as he moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows. He found an exit and slipped outside, the cool night air hitting him like a shock. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself.

As he wandered through the city, his thoughts were a chaotic jumble. He needed answers—who was he now? What had happened to him?

Hunger gnawed at him, and he spotted a small diner up ahead, its neon sign flickering. He headed inside without thinking.

The diner was nearly empty, just a few late-night patrons scattered around. Jacob chose a booth in the corner, away from the others. A tired waitress took his order, and he asked for something simple, barely caring what it was.

As he waited, his eyes were drawn to the TV on the wall. The news was on, the anchor droning on about the day’s events. Jacob wasn’t really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied.

But then something caught his attention, making his blood run cold.

“—the Montgomery family has announced a private funeral for Jacob Montgomery, who was found dead yesterday under mysterious circumstances…”

Jacob’s heart stopped as he stared at the screen. They were talking about his death. His funeral.

“This can’t be happening,” Jacob whispered, his eyes glued to the screen as the anchor continued. His mother, Amelia, appeared in a brief clip, looking devastated as she exited a building, her face hidden behind dark sunglasses. Victor was with her, his expression grim.

But Jacob knew better. The sombre act was just that—an act. If Victor had a hand in this, and Jacob had no reason to doubt it, his brother would be playing the part of the grieving sibling perfectly.

Jacob left the diner in a daze. His family believed he was dead. They were preparing to bury him.

I have to stop this. I have to… But I don’t even know where to start.

The next morning, Jacob found himself at the cemetery, keeping to the shadows as he watched the small gathering from a distance. His heart ached as he saw his mother, Amelia, standing by the casket, her face etched with sorrow. But something else caught his eye—a figure standing apart from the others, her face partially hidden by a large hat and dark glasses. It was Lena.

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. Lena was here, putting on a facade of mourning him. The sight of her, so close yet so far, stirred a wave of anger within him. How could she be so heartless?

As the ceremony progressed, Jacob noticed subtle signs of excitement in their behaviour. Amelia’s lips twitched as if she were suppressing a smile, Victor’s eyes glinted with a triumphant gleam, and even Lena, despite her sombre façade, seemed lighter, almost relieved. His heart ached seeing his mother’s pretence.

Are they seriously celebrating my death? Is my mother also celebrating my death?

Another figure drew his attention—Mark, Victor’s friend. Mark approached the casket with visible grief, his hand trembling as he touched it, his lips moving in a silent prayer. Mark’s pain was real, a stark contrast to the controlled expressions of Amelia, Victor, and Lena. Jacob’s heart twisted as he watched his friend mourn him.

“Mark…” Jacob whispered, the word catching in his throat. He wanted to reveal himself, to tell Mark he was alive. But the time wasn’t right.

As the ceremony ended, Jacob lingered, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger. He needed answers, needed to understand what had happened to him. But just as he was about to turn away, he noticed Victor approaching Mark, his expression darkening.

“What are you doing here?” Victor’s voice was cold, his eyes narrowing Mark as he regarded him.

“Paying my respects,” Mark replied, his voice tight with barely concealed anger. “Jacob was… he was a good friend who deserved the world.”

Victor scoffed, his lips curling in disdain. “Friend? You barely even knew him.”

“I knew enough. To me, he wasn't just a friend. He was family—a brother from another mother.” Mark shot back, his eyes flashing. “Enough to know he deserved better than this.”

Victor’s gaze hardened as he took a menacing step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Better? He was weak, Mark. Always was. It’s pathetic that you’re here, pretending to care.”

Mark’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he kept his voice steady. “I’m here because Jacob mattered. To me, to people who actually cared about him. Not people like you. It’s a shame to Jacob for ever having a brother like you. You should consider yourself a shame to brotherhood itself ”

Victor’s face twisted with rage. “Watch your mouth, Mark. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know more than you think,” Mark replied, his voice low but intense. “I know you’ve always hated him. I know you’re behind this. And I won’t let you get away with it.”

Victor’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and he took a step closer, his gaze icy. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Mark. If you keep this up, you’ll find yourself regretting it. Let me be precise, I will reunite you with that brother of yours.”

Mark stood his ground, the anger in his eyes unyielding. “Try me. I won’t stand by while you destroy lives for your own gain.”

Victor’s expression darkened further, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with tension. But just then, Amelia approached, placing a hand on Victor’s arm.

“Let it go, Victor,” she said softly, her voice calm and composed. “Mark’s just upset. We all are.”

Victor hesitated, his gaze locked on Mark for a long moment before he finally turned away and headed to the parking lot.

Jacob’s hatred for his family burned hotter than ever. He clenched his fists, vowing silently to make them pay for what they had done to him. “I swear, on my corpse, I will get my revenge,” he muttered as Victor and Amelia approached his direction.

“Quite the surprise, huh?” Victor reacted as soon as he sighted Jacob, his voice dripping with mockery. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”