They Dumped a Dead Engine on a Single Dad as a Joke—28 Days Later He Became Their Biggest Rival
Chapter 5
Marcus spent the next morning rebuilding his security system.
He installed cameras.
Motion sensors.
A reinforced door.
He even moved the prototype engine into a locked storage room.
But the missing notebook bothered him more than the break-in.
That notebook contained eleven years of history.
His calculations.
His original concepts.
His rejected designs.
Without it, proving ownership would be difficult.
Then his phone rang.
It was Tom.
The old colleague who had warned him to stay away.
“Marcus.”
“What happened?”
“You need to listen carefully.”
“I’m listening.”
“The notebook they took isn’t the important thing.”
Marcus frowned.
“What is?”
“The original research server.”
“Where?”
“At Barton’s old research facility.”
“Does it still exist?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because accessing it would be illegal.”
Marcus thought.
“Unless I own the rights.”
Silence.
“Marcus.”
“What?”
“You might.”
Marcus’s heartbeat increased.
“Explain.”
“When Barton rejected your research, they never formally bought the intellectual property.”
Marcus stared at the wall.
“So the company may not own it.”
“Exactly.”
“Then who does?”
“You.”
Marcus sat down.
For eleven years, he had believed Barton Motors owned the technology.
But if the patent paperwork had never been completed, everything could belong to him.
His hands began shaking.
He called his attorney.
Two hours later, the lawyer arrived.
They reviewed the old documents.
Then the lawyer smiled.
“You may have a case.”
“How strong?”
“Potentially very strong.”
“What do we need?”
“Proof that you developed the core technology independently.”
Marcus looked toward the empty shelf where his notebook had been.
“Someone stole that proof.”
“Then we find another.”
Marcus remembered something.
A backup.
Years ago, his wife had insisted he digitize his work.
She had saved everything on an old external drive.
Marcus hadn’t looked at it in years.
He rushed home.
He opened the attic.
Boxes filled the room.
Noah helped.
“What’s this?”
“Old computer.”
“Does it work?”
“We’ll see.”
They found the drive.
Marcus connected it.
Nothing happened.
He tried another cable.
The computer recognized it.
Folders appeared.
His old research.
His calculations.
Photographs.
Emails.
And one folder titled:
PROJECT ORION — ORIGINAL
Marcus opened it.
There it was.
Every design.
Every revision.
Every date.
Every email showing Barton Motors had rejected the project before secretly continuing development.
His wife had unknowingly preserved the evidence that could destroy the company’s claim.
Marcus sat back.
Noah looked at him.
“Did we win?”
Marcus smiled.
“Maybe.”
But then he noticed something else.
A document dated two weeks after he left Barton Motors.
It contained a patent application.
His design.
But the applicant wasn’t Marcus.
It was Greg Barton.
Marcus’s face hardened.
They had stolen his work.
And now he finally had proof.
He sent everything to his attorney.
The lawyer replied almost immediately.
Do not contact Barton Motors.
Marcus frowned.
Then another message arrived.
We need to file first.
Marcus understood.
The race had begun.
For the next seventeen days, he would work harder than he had ever worked.
He would turn the dead engine into a functioning prototype.
Then he would challenge one of the largest automotive companies in America.
And he had no idea that Greg Barton already knew about the backup drive.
