The Undead Trillionaire Heir Wants Revenge

Chapter 3 || He Lives Again.

‘Wake up, child. It's time to claim what's rightfully yours. Your time of being seen as a street dog has passed. Now is the moment to shine and exact vengeance upon all who those that wronged us,’ the injured woman from earlier whispers out to Phil while he was unconscious.

Slowly, his eyes crept open, and he found himself lying on a king-sized bed in a prestigious, see-through glass-walled room, sparsely adorned with medieval-era antiques.

Phil heard beeping sounds of a heart monitoring machine, and he could hear people quietly chattering among themselves in the room.

It was only when he felt a brief, fleeting pain in his arm, that disappeared almost immediately, that he remembered what had happened to him.

How he had died.

‘Where am I? Am I dead? No, I'm alive…But how?’ Phil's racing thoughts almost caused him a migraine. Tilting his head to the side, he scanned every corner of the prestigious room.

While he tried to discern where he was, sounds and visions from the torturous night with Darren ruffled his mind. It suddenly struck him that his killer had threatened to kill his mother after him, so without much thinking, he leaped out of the bed.

Unbeknownst to him, the professional doctors paid to treat him here said he was going to be in a permanent state of comatose, because of countless head injuries he suffered.

He had been bedridden for close to two months now, and his sudden awakening was a surprise to all who were present in the room.

“Mum! I'm coming—wait, It's gone! The pains. They are all gone!” Phil mouthed, his voice almost a scream, as he gingerly examined his body. His fingers searched for the pains and aches he felt during his ordeal with Darren.

He felt none.

However, he found out that he was clad in the country's top designer brand. He was shocked, and in a moment of quiet rebellion, he decided to take the luxurious attire off, refusing to be indebted to whoever dressed him.

“Your adopted mother is safe. And please don't take them off! They were made just for you.”

A lady among the chattering individuals implored. Phil looked up to see the people who had once had their backs facing him, now staring eagerly, while the lady among them paced over to where he was, her beauty taking Phil back to the days of the mesozoic era.

His mouth was agape, and he could hardly remove his eyes from her and the dress she donned.

She wore a leg-cut-through dress, with black leggings, and makeup that matched her outfit exceptionally well. She was a brunette, with crystal blue eyes, full lips, and had a symmetrical face. Her entire aesthetic summed up would be: dark feminism.

“Praise the Lord! When we took you from that river, and brought you here. Doctors had first declared you dead, then later claimed you were in a coma with uncertain prospects of waking. But here you are, standing before us, Alexander,” the lady marveled, gazing up at Phil with amazement.

Stunned by the lady's deep European accent, Phil stood rigid, struggling to comprehend her words.

She had called him Alexander, just like the woman in his dream, but she looked nothing like her. And, apart from that, did she just say he had died and been in a coma?

“Wait, I died? Then I was in a coma? For how long now?” Phil asked in disbelief.

“It has been two months, Alexander. I'm sorry,” Kate answered, and Phil staggered back a little, shocked. Two months? He had been lying in a coma for two months? What had happened in the world during that time? How was his mother? What about his unborn child?

Phil had a myriad of questions, but he was particularly curious to learn more about this Alexander person.

“Please, who's Alexander?” He asked. The lady's expression immediately turned sad on hearing, as if Phil's words had resurrected an unwanted memory. She locked eyes with his now displaying pendant.

“You don't remember? How can you remember? You were just a child when it all happened.” With the fine glint that lingered in her eyes now gone, she continued, “Come, let me tell you the tale of your past. And hopefully, it will point you to your future.”

Wasting no time, the lady took Phil out of the room, but before they left, the other people present bowed in courtesy and greeted Phil like an emperor.

Making their way from the room to the rest of the mansion, Phil was astonished by the building's castle-like interior. It was located close to a serene lake, surrounded by vast forests, and decorated with ancient antiques. It had bodyguards with customized uniforms strewn at every inch of the compound.

Furthermore, it was a place only the ultrarich would stay.

“Come in.” The lady ushered, and he strode into the room she had just unlocked for him. Entering, Phil was greeted with countless shelves of books, antiques, and a large family portrait of a pregnant woman and a man.

“Wait!” Phil hushed on seeing the portrait. He was dumbfounded because the woman in it looked exactly like the injured one from his dream. And the man wore the same necklace he had on.

“Who are they?” With widened eyes, Phil inquired. The lady looked at him with a subtle smile on her face. She thought his memories were slowly coming back to him.

“Those are your parents. Mr. Stephen Lord and his wife, Mrs. Hope Lord,” she revealed, staring at Phil, trying to pick up whatever expression he was going to make after the truth. He made none, for his face was still.

“Where…where are they?” Phil asked eagerly. Deep down, he knew the answer to the question, but he wouldn't accept it.

“They died. Your mother first, after your birth, and death. And then your father because he couldn't bear the pain of losing you both.” She said tonelessly. She paced to where Phil was and held him in her arms.

“They died? What happened to them? How did they…wait I died too? How? If I died…how did my adopted mother find me then?” Phil spluttered. He had so many questions, but these were the most relevant for now.

“Breathe. First, let me start from the beginning,” she said, and ushered him to sit. He swiftly did, and she stood, like a teacher about to tutor her student.

“Before the industrial age, before the Renaissance era or even the Stone Age, there was one thing that men craved, and that was labyrium. It is a precious stone that has the power to do too much. Labyrium, in its finest, could produce power for years on end, could destroy, and could heal—although many believe that to be false. I, however, believe that the one on your neck assisted in your recovery.”

“The versatile nature of this resource attracted a rush of men to these lands for mining. Unfortunately, their lack of understanding about its potential capabilities led to their downfall. Your ancestors, who hailed from this land, developed a reliable method for extracting these stones. Subsequently, they established a company dedicated to trading these valuable stones, which they named Black Mercury.”

“Your ancestors also had a long-standing friendship with the Gates, another old descendant of this land. And together they founded this city, and then the entire country. For years, the Lords safely mined the stones with the Gates' assistance, while the Gates focused on politics.”

“Times passed and the county's population exploded. People flooded to Labyrinth city for the good life, and as people came, so did greed and envy. Both families tried so much to keep things intact, but it was all too hard. The Gates and their influence couldn't stop whatever harm that might come to the Lords, and the Lords with their money was unable to stop whatever harm might come to the Gates.”

“Everything became worse when the Del Rosario forced themselves into power and made their way into becoming the country's sole military power. They…” The lady's words were cut off by Phil.

“What! Del Rosario…like Darren Del Rosario? The bastard that killed me?” Phil asked, his tone surly.

“Yes, it seems fate had found a way to tie your destinies together early. You see, the Del Rosario's are corrupt foes who craved power and wealth. Your grandfather knew that, and so he founded the Knights, a secret elite squad that stops whatever threat that might bring harm to your family, the Gates, labyrium, the Lord's assets or the people of Labyrinth.”

“For years, the Knights thwarted the Del Rosario's plans of taking control of the Lord's company, the country and Labyrinth city. Until, one day, they had enough. After your birth, Darren's father, Chris Del Rosario, sent men to kidnap you. They nearly succeeded, if not for your mother. She tried escaping with you, but her car was tossed over a bridge. You disappeared, she died.”

“Your dad searched everywhere for you, but couldn't find you. They said you were taken by wolves or by alligators. Your dad was heartbroken. He couldn't function, couldn't lead the Knights. He was absent for a while, and the Del Rosario used that opportunity to start human trafficking ports around the country, because they still couldn't take the company.”

“Since they were unable to get labyrium to make money and fund their plans of overthrowing the Gates, he sold what was as precious as labyrium. Lives. Thankfully, your dad got a hold of these and intervened. On one of the port take-downs, he found me, after the Del Rosario's burned the warehouse where he kept the children they intended to trade.”

“He adopted me, called me 'Kate,' and made me promise to find you, as he still believed you were alive. After his passing, your father's assets worth 500 trillion dollars were left without an heir. Many wanted a piece of it, especially the Del Rosarios. I did my best to safeguard everything, but the Del Rosarios managed to penetrate the most priced asset—the company—with the help of the Sinclairs. However, I always knew you were alive, and now that we've found you, it's time for you to inherit it all. The entire Labyrinth City is yours,” Kate added, and quiet down.