บท 2: Rebirth as Quincy Presley-Jackson
Augusto opened his eyes, blinking against the brightness of the room. For a moment, he felt disoriented, as if waking from a long dream. Then the memories rushed back—the quiet deathbed, the faces of his children, the life he had built and left behind. But something was different.
He wasn't in that dim room anymore.
He glanced around, heart pounding. He lay in a bed, but it was smaller—too small for a man of his stature. His surroundings were foreign, yet not completely unfamiliar. A child's room, decorated with stuffed animals, posters of Disney movies, and toys scattered across the floor.
Suddenly, a wave of panic washed over him. He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt weak, unfamiliar. He looked down at his hands—small, delicate. His heart raced.
It couldn't be.
Augusto scrambled out of bed and stumbled toward a mirror that hung on the wall. His reflection stared back at him, but it wasn't his reflection. Not the wrinkled, hardened face of Augusto Valentini. No, staring back at him was a child. A boy of five, with light brown skin and dark hair. His face was flawless, almost angelic, with striking green eyes that gleamed with an intensity he recognized.
"Who…what…" He muttered, his voice high-pitched, childlike. This couldn't be happening.
As he stood frozen in shock, his eyes drifted to a small envelope placed carefully on the nightstand beside the bed. With trembling hands, he reached for it. The envelope was unmarked, save for a single word scrawled across the front: Don Augusto.
His breath caught in his throat. Someone knew.
He ripped the envelope open and pulled out the note inside. The words were mocking, yet commanding:
"Hello, Don Augusto. You have been reborn as the son of Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley. You've been granted the talents of your father, Michael Jackson, and your grandfather, Elvis Presley. You've also been granted additional gifts: perfect pitch, mastery of languages, and unparalleled musical abilities. Go on, and conquer the entertainment industry. Live up to your new last names."
Augusto—no, Quincy, as the note indicated—stared at the paper, his mind spinning. Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley? He knew they had been married briefly in the 1990s, but they hadn't had children. And yet…here he was, reborn as their son, with all their combined talents.
For the first time since he could remember, fear gripped him. But it was soon replaced by something else—ambition. The gears in his mind began to turn. This was a chance, a real chance. He could build something greater than any crime family, greater than the Valentini empire. He could surpass even his father and grandfather, legends in their own right.
But first, he needed to understand this new body, this new life. He needed to become Quincy Presley-Jackson.
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