Tony woke up with a jolt. His head throbbed slightly from the sleep that had overtaken him the moment he hit the pillow. The sunlight pouring through the windows of the grand room felt strangely foreign—too luxurious. He wasn't sure if the silk sheets or the huge velvet curtains were real.
He blinked a few times, glancing around the room to make sure everything was in place. He expected something to be wrong—something out of place—but everything seemed... perfect. Almost too perfect.
He grabbed his phone from the bedside table, the screen lighting up as he checked the time. 4:56 AM.
"What is this?" he thought, his mind swirling with uncertainty. "What could this mean?"
It wasn't his birthday yet, he was sure of that, but he still felt like he was living someone else's life. For a second, he considered going back to sleep, hoping it would all make sense when he woke up again. But the truth was, there was no escaping it—this new life was real.
Tony sat up slowly, the weight of it all pressing down on him. Cristiano Bellingham. The name echoed in his mind. The heir of Bellingham's Industries. And then, Tony Bellingham. Was he really this person now?
(Well...I'm super rich now)
He stood up from the bed and moved toward the large walk-in closet, needing to prepare for the day ahead. He rifled through the clothes, the expensive suits, tailored shirts, and shoes neatly arranged. His fingers brushed over each item, but nothing felt familiar. It was all so… foreign.
Then, tucked at the back of the closet, he noticed something—an old wooden box with a lock on it.
Curious, he knelt down, picking it up. He ran his fingers over the surface, intrigued. The lock was flimsy, and with a slight tug, it popped open. Inside, there were photographs.
(Note...Curiousity kills the cat!!!)
The first picture made his heart skip a beat. A woman, standing next to a man who looked strikingly familiar. His breath caught in his throat as he leaned in closer.
"Is that... Cristiano?"
It was hard to tell, but the man had the same sharp features. But what really caught his attention was the woman beside him—elegantly dressed in what looked like a high-society fashion—and next to her was a little boy.
(Who's that kid..???)
Tony stared at the picture longer, as a sinking feeling gripped his stomach. Was this his family?
The more he looked at the woman, the more he felt a need to know about her. Something told him she wasn't just another piece of the puzzle; she was part of the key to all this confusion.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, snapping Tony out of his thoughts. He didn't have time to process everything.
A voice spoke, low and formal: "Master Tony, may I enter?"
Tony blinked in confusion, but his thoughts raced. Master Tony?, Oh yeah...I'm tony now.
He nodded, though the voice felt odd to him, as though it belonged to someone else. "Yeah, come in."
The door opened fully, and in stepped a well-dressed man, probably in his late 30s. His dark eyes were sharp, and he moved with a quiet authority. The man bowed slightly before placing a tray on the table by the window.
"Your breakfast, Master Tony," the man said, with a tone that indicated this was routine.
"Thank you very much," Tony mumbled, still staring at the pictures.
The man stood by the window, awaiting any further instructions. Tony, trying to push back the fog in his brain, cleared his throat.
"Wait a second… who is this woman in the photo?" He handed over the picture without looking up, pointing to the woman next to Cristiano.
The man's face remained neutral, but his eyes twinkled as if there was something Tony was missing. "Um.That is your mother, Master Tony."
Tony's mind reeled, trying to piece together everything he knew—or thought he knew—about this life. His real mother? He never heard anything about a woman like this, not from the life he had before.
"My mother…" Tony muttered, testing the words. "And the boy?" He asked, his voice trembling. Could it be... another sibling?
The man nodded slightly. "That is your younger brother, Matteo."
(Tony had a younger brother?????)
Tony let out a breath. A brother. A mother. He couldn't help but stare at the photo longer, wondering what kind of life Tony had before waking up in this strange world. Of course he could not remember any of it.
The silence stretched between them for a moment. Tony stared out the window, feeling the weight of the strange existence he had to step into. His life before—so different, so bleak—now felt like a distant dream. He wanted answers, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the answers weren't ready to be found.
"Anything else, Master Tony?" the man asked quietly.
Tony felt a twinge of unease, realizing that this wasn't the man's first time waiting for his orders. Everything here is too formal, Tony thought, shifting in his seat.
(Well....)
He stood up and stretched, trying to shake off the fog in his mind. He needed to know more about this family—his family. About the woman in the photo. About Cristiano. Why was everything so distant?
"Yeah… I need to meet with someone today. Someone named Clara. Can you arrange that?"
The man nodded without question. "Of course, Master Tony. I will arrange for you to meet with Miss Clara at 3 PM. Is that okay?"
Tony gave a half-nod, his mind still swirling with confusion. He had a lot more to uncover, but for now, meeting Clara seemed like a good starting point. Maybe she could provide the answers he was looking for—or at least shed some light on the bizarre situation he found himself in. He as too shocked.
He sat back down at the table and began to eat, but his thoughts never stopped racing.