Twist Of Fate

Dwight Cullen stared into space, his eyes wide with disbelief. The words that had come through the speaker continued to echo in his mind, he couldn't help but chant “Wow, wow, wow.”

He muttered the words under his breath, as if saying them out loud would help him grasp their reality. His wife, Mandy, could see the shock written all over his face, and her anxiety grew with each second.

“Dwight, what happened? Who was that?” she asked, her voice trembling with worry. She reached out to touch his arm, trying to ground him, but he remained motionless, staring into space.

He finally turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Don’t worry about it, Mandy,” he said softly. “Just go to bed. Everything will be fine.”

Mandy didn’t believe him for a second. Her heart pounded as if an invisible drummer had taken residence in her chest, pounding out a rhythm of unease. She watched as Dwight got into their ragged bed, pulling the covers over himself with a peace that only increased her anxiety. Dwight fell asleep almost instantly, his breathing steady and calm. Meanwhile, Mandy lay awake, her mind racing with a thousand possibilities.

The next morning, Dwight woke up refreshed, a sense of purpose filling his heart. Today was the day he would meet the mysterious caller. He got dressed, choosing his best— the same suit he had worn on their wedding day, now threadbare and slightly tattered. Mandy watched him get ready, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dwight replied with a small smile. “Just pray for me.”

Before Mandy could protest, Dwight had already left the cottage, leaving her with more questions than answers. She stood at the doorway, watching him leave the mansion gate, wondering what kind of strange turn their lives had taken.

Dwight arrived at the meeting point, his heart racing with anticipation. A sleek, shiny Tesla pulled up to the curb, and Dwight’s mouth fell open in awe. He had never seen a car like this up close before, let alone ridden in one. The driver, a young man in a crisp suit, stepped out and greeted Dwight with a warm smile.

“Mr. Dwight, I’m Cane. I’ve been sent to pick you up,” the driver said with a slight bow, treating Dwight as if he were royalty.

Dwight blinked in surprise. “Me?” he asked, still trying to wrap his head around everything.

Cane nodded, opening the door for him. “Please, get in. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

As Dwight settled into the plush leather seat, he felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. This was far from the life he knew, a life of struggle and second-hand belongings. As they sped through the streets of Los Angeles, Cane offered to take Dwight to a boutique to buy him new clothes. But Dwight, ever humble, declined the offer, insisting that his current outfit was just fine. Cane didn’t push the matter, respecting Dwight’s wishes.

They left the bustling city behind, driving into the peaceful countryside. They arrived in the city of Pasadena, a place known for its beauty and affluence. Dwight had never been there before, and as the car approached a massive mansion, his jaw dropped. The estate was beyond anything he could have imagined, even in his wildest dreams. It was a sprawling property, easily ten times the size of the Wendel and Norton estates combined.

“Welcome, Mr. Dwight,” Cane said as they pulled up to the front entrance. “Please, follow me.”

Dwight stepped out of the car, feeling like a fish out of water as he followed Cane through the grand front doors. Inside, the mansion was even more impressive, filled with expensive furniture, priceless art, and luxurious décor. Dwight couldn’t help but feel out of place, his tattered suit a stark contrast to the opulence surrounding him.

They walked through the mansion until they reached a large room with tall windows that let in streams of sunlight. In the center of the room was a grand bed, and lying on it was a sick man in his 60s, frail and pale. He looked like he was nearing the end of his life, but there was still a glint of strength in his eyes. As Dwight stepped closer, the man’s face lit up with recognition.

“Dwight,” the man croaked, his voice weak but filled with emotion. “My son.”

Dwight froze, his mind spinning. “Son?” he echoed in disbelief. How could this be?

Cane introduced the man as Lorenzo Mendez, beckoning Dwight closer. “Come here, son. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”

Dwight approached the bed, his steps hesitant. As he got closer, he realized that there was something familiar about the man’s features. They shared the same sharp jawline, the same piercing eyes. It was as if he were looking at an older version of himself.

Lorenzo reached out a trembling hand and placed it on Dwight’s shoulder. “I owe you so much, Dwight. I’ve wronged you in ways that can never be undone.”

With tears in his eyes, Lorenzo recounted the story of how Dwight’s mother had been his CEO. He admitted that he had taken advantage of her, and when she told him she was pregnant, he had cast her aside to protect his reputation. Fearing that the truth would come out, he had ordered for her to be killed. But she had been saved by a kind man, Mr. Cullen, who took her in and gave her and Dwight a home, despite their poverty.

Lorenzo’s voice cracked as he spoke of the guilt he had carried all these years. “I tried to find you, but it was too late. I heard Your foster parents perished in a fire outburst, I thought you died with them, but I was so happy when I saw you on the headlines with that rejected woman. look son, I can never make up for the pain I caused you, but I want to try.”

Dwight stood there, unable to process all that he was hearing. His life, which had been defined by hardship and struggle, suddenly seemed to have a different meaning. This man—this stranger who had caused him so much pain—was his father.

“I just lost my wife and three sons in a plane crash,” Lorenzo continued, tears streaming down his face. “I’m dying, Dwight. And no one o take on after me. So, I want to give you everything that should have been yours all along.”

Dwight could hardly believe what he was hearing. Cane handed him a stack of papers, a legal document that transferred everything to Dwight: the mansion, the companies, the wealth—everything.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Lorenzo said weakly, “but you are my heir, Dwight. The Mendez legacy is yours now.”

Dwight was speechless. It felt like a dream, one he feared he might wake up from at any moment. But as the reality of the situation began to sink in, he felt a surge of determination. He wasn’t just Dwight Cullen anymore. He was Dwight Mendez, heir to a fortune beyond his wildest dreams.

Before he left the mansion, Dwight instructed the staff to keep his true identity a secret for now. He needed time to figure things out.

Cane handed him a brand new iPhone, a far cry from the shattered phone he had left behind, and with that, he returned home.

On his drive home, his mind was racing with plans. Plans to reclaim his life, to right the wrongs done to him and his wife. The Norton's and the Wendel's had humiliated him and Mandy for too long. They would pay for every insult, every slight. And he knew just where to start.