Hoffman's Illegitimate Son

Chapter 5: Devil Meeting

The heavy iron gates of the estate clicked shut behind the Maybach, sealing off the city and leaving absolute silence.

Arthur Vance looked out the tinted window as the car rolled down a long driveway lined with cypress trees. The place was massive, with wide green lawns, marble fountains, and security guards standing watch.

When the car stopped at the main house, Arthur felt a tight knot in his chest. The mansion was a giant structure of glass, white stone, and steel—looking more like a fortress than a home.

A man in a sharp black suit open ed the door and gestured toward the double mahogany doors.

Arthur stepped out. The air outside was warm, but inside the estate gates, it felt cool and almost artificial. Keeping his face blank, he walked up the stone steps.

A butler in a clean vest stepped forward. “Master Vance is waiting for you in the study, sir. Right this way.”

Arthur followed him down a long corridor. Inside, his heart was racing, and anger burned hot in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm and emotionless.

The mahogany doors clicked shut behind him, leaving Arthur inside the large, glass-walled study. Across the room, behind a massive desk facing the ocean, sat Vance Hoffman. He was in his sixties, with silver hair and the cold presence of a man who controlled massive industries.

He didn't even look up at the boy entering the room.

“You took your time getting here, Arthur,” Vance said, his voice deep and rough.

Arthur kept his spine straight and his gaze steady. A faint, cold smile crossed his face.

“I figured it would take a billion dollars to finally get a front-row seat to my mother's life,” Arthur said calmly, “but I didn't expect you to wait until the final curtain closed to buy a ticket.”

Vance stopped writing. For a second, the room went completely still. His sharp eyes locked onto Arthur's.

“You have your mother's stubbornness,” Vance said, a slight smirk touching his mouth. “And her sharp tongue. Do you actually have the brains to back it up, or are you just another guy wearing a cheap jacket?”

“If I wanted to beg, I would have kept the thirty grand and stayed on the streets,” Arthur replied, stepping closer to the desk. “You built an empire because you recognize value right away and don't care about sentiment. Good. I didn't come here for a handout, and you didn't call me here just to look at my face. What do you want now that she's gone?”

Vance leaned back in his leather chair, interlocking his fingers. “What I want? Bold. Let’s see how bold you are when you find out what I actually expect from my bloodline.”

Vance studied him for a long moment. The defiance in Arthur's eyes didn't anger him; it clearly amused him.

“Fair enough,” Vance said, lowering his voice. “You think you're here because of some sudden burst of fatherly guilt? Save it. I watched you hustle, and I watched you handle a crisis without breaking down. You survived. But survival isn't enough to carry my name.”

Arthur's jaw tightened. “Then why am I standing in your office?”

“Because the board wants a clean bloodline to succeed me, and my other options are soft,” Vance replied, waving a hand dismissively. “You have the grit, but you lack polish. I am giving you a platform, Arthur. A blank check to enter a world you only read about. You don't inherit my empire by whining about the past. You earn your seat by proving you can handle the room.”

Arthur stared at the billionaire, seeing both the trap and the opportunity.

Vance chuckled softly and pressed a button on his desk. “Ms. Briggs, bring in the file from the blue folder.”

A moment later, the side door opened. A secretary placed a thick envelope with gold foil on the edge of the desk and left quietly.

Vance slid the envelope across the glass toward Arthur.

“I'm not inviting you as a guest,” Vance said, leaning back with a smug smile. “You have to be there.”

Arthur pulled out the contents. It was a formal, high-end invitation to Vance Hoffman’s 65th birthday gala—an exclusive event attended by the most powerful people in the industry.

Arthur looked up, locking eyes with his father.

Then he stood up from his seat coldly. “Since that's all, I will take my leave, Mr. Hoffman,” he said before moving towards the exit, leaving with the invitation in hand.

“Should I go after him, sir?” the secretary standing behind the old man proposed, but was quickly rejected with a wave of an arm.

“Let him be,” Vance said as a small smile played on his lips. “He's too young; he won't understand even if I explain it to him.” A small tear slipped down his cheek slightly. “It's best if this hatred of his for me is the one who fuels him. Maybe that will be enough for him to pass through this coming storm.”

Arthur turned away and walked out through a private side door.

[Ding.]

[ Mission completed. ]

[ Reward: Skill: Insight – Increase host wisdom in all fields (Only works for fields with a minimum of entry-level understanding) at least

Hundred Thousand Dollars of untraceable Fund. ]

[ Bonus Reward: 10% stake in Royal Life Hotel. Head to the hotel to claim your ownership stake. ]

A small, cold smile touched the corners of his lips as the system notification faded away.

Three days later at the hospital private ward equipped with the best of the best medical professionals and machines, Arthur stood alone before his mother bed clenching her motionless hands tightly and pressing it against his forehead.

He wasn't crying anymore. The tears had run dry, leaving him bloodshot and hollow-eyed.

His gaze shifted towards her calm face. “I swear... I will make sure to exact revenge on every last one of those bastards for the humiliation and suffering they inflicted upon you. I will rob them of everything that they have and make them beg for change on the streets, like you did.”

After making the vow, he slowly loosen his grip from hers, retrieve his hand and stood up and began walking toward the exit.

He gave his bow in the direction of his mother's bed as he reached the door, a stiff ninety-degree bend at the waist before straightening up and moving off.