THE SON-IN-LAW THEY LEFT TO DIE

CHAPTER 7

Johnson stared at the emotional middle-aged man in front of him. His heart was beating so loudly that he could hear it in his ears.

He swallowed hard before finally finding his voice, "How do you know I am your son?"

The question immediately made the man nod. Instead of answering directly, Mr. McArthur slowly walked forward.

"Johnson, tell me something," he said gently. "Do you have a birthmark on your shoulder that looks like a half moon?"

The moment those words left the man's mouth, Johnson froze. His hand instinctively moved toward his shoulder.

His eyes widened, "How do you know that?" he asked in shock.

The man smiled sadly. Without saying a word, he began unbuttoning his own shirt.

Johnson frowned in confusion.

A few seconds later, the man pulled the shirt aside and turned his shoulders towards Johnson.

Johnson's breath caught in his throat.

"The mark..." Those two words escaped his mouth automatically.

There, on Mr. McArthur shoulder, was the exact same half-moon birthmark.

Johnson felt his entire body go numb.

The man slowly lowered his shirt again.

"There is no mistake," he said softly. "That birthmark has existed in the McArthur family for generations. Having it on you confirms that you’re a member of the family"

Johnson stood speechless. His mind was struggling to process everything. Was he actually the lost son of the McArthur like Samuel had told him earlier?

"No! This cannot be real," he muttered, shaking his head lightly. 

Seeing the disbelief on his face, the man walked back to his desk and opened one of the drawers. After a moment, he pulled out an old photograph.

"Look at this."

Johnson accepted it slowly. The picture showed a beautiful woman in a sundress smiling brightly.

The moment he saw her face, Johnson was dumbstruck. For a whole minute he couldn’t even speak. 

“This… this is my mother." He said in a trembling tone. “When I was growing up, one of the caretakers at the orphanage gave me this exact photograph. She told me it was the only thing my mother left behind when she brought me to the orphanage," he added emotionally.

He raised his head and looked at the man curiously, “Where did you get this picture?”

The man smiled calmly.

"There were originally two copies of this picture. Your mother took one copy with her on the night she left this house. The other copy remained with me ever since."

The man gently placed the photo aside before striding forward. His eyes were heavy with emotions. Before Johnson could react, the older man wrapped both arms around him tightly.

"It’s confirmed, you really are my son," he declared emotionally.

For several seconds, Johnson remained frozen by the revelation. He had lived as an orphan all his life. Never for once had he imagined that any of his parents was alive out there.

Yet now, this man standing before him claimed to be his father. And somehow, all the evidence pointed toward the truth.

Johnson slowly returned the embrace.

"You actually are my dad! Everything feels like a dream," he admitted.

The man laughed softly through his tears.

"It is not a dream." He pulled back slightly. "In fact, there is a lot we need to discuss."

The man gently grabbed Johnson's hand.

"Come. Sit with me."

Johnson nodded.

Both men walked toward the large desk. After sitting down, Johnson finally noticed the enormous stack of documents resting on the table.

His brows furrowed.

"What are all these documents for?"

The man sat opposite him. His expression became serious, "These documents contain the ownership rights to my entire empire." The man calmly pointed at the files "Everything owned by the McArthur Conglomerate from real estates, investment firms, manufacturing plants… Every single asset”

Johnson continued to listen carefully until the man said,

“All of this is worth $2 trillion!”

Johnson's mouth slowly dropped open. Yes, it was obvious that the man was very wealthy, but he never imagined him to be this wealthy. As far as Johnson was concerned, this was the first trillionaire he was aware of and the man turned out to be his dad.

But the real shocker came when the man looked him in the eyes and said, “Johnson, I am about to transfer all of this into your name."

Johnson nearly jumped from his chair.

"Into my name?" He looked completely stunned. "But why?"

Mr. McArthur leaned back in his chair. For the first time, he looked tired. Very tired.

"I am getting old, Johnson."

"You don't look that old."

The man chuckled.

"It’s beyond that,” Mr. McArthur said calmly. “The thing is, I have a medical condition. My doctors have advised me to travel abroad for treatment. I may be gone for a long time. Whether I return or not, everything here will belong to you."

Johnson rubbed his face.

Everything was happening so fast. He just discovered this man was his dad a few minutes ago and now he was talking about transferring an empire worth trillions into his name!

“You should think about this all over. I am not sure whether I am ready for this, I have never headed a company before, I don’t want to ruin your years of hard work.”

Mr. McArthur smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder.

"I know this is so sudden for you. But you don’t have to worry about anything, I will assign someone who will be guiding you on what to do till you understand how everything works”.

Then he picked up a pen and placed it gently in Johnson's hand. Pointing towards a signature line on one of the documents he said, "The only thing standing between you and the McArthur Conglomerate is one signature. Trust me my son, this will be the best decision of your life."

With the pen in his hand, Johnson lingered for a while before slowly signing the document

The moment he finished, the older man's face lit up. He stood up and stretched out his hand.

“Congratulations Johnson, you are now the CEO of McArthur conglomerate”.

Despite how ridiculously insane this sounded, it was the truth. Johnson's life had completely changed. Just a few hours ago, he was the useless son-in-law his wife had discarded for another man because he was poor. Now, he was the heir and CEO of a trillion-dollar empire.

The next morning, in one of the grand bedrooms of the McArthur mansion, Johnson was still asleep when the door suddenly opened and a young maid entered carrying a small envelope in her hands.

“Good morning, Young Master.”

Johnson slowly sat up. He still was not used to hearing that title.

“Good morning,” he replied.

The maid bowed respectfully before saying, “Master instructed me to deliver this to you.”

Johnson accepted the envelope and nodded. “Thank you.”

The maid smiled politely. “Master also requested that you carefully review everything he left behind.”

After saying that, she bowed once more and quietly left the room.

Johnson looked down at the envelope before slowly opening it. Inside was a handwritten note, and tucked behind it were two black cards. He pulled out the note first and began reading.

As he read through the contents, his expression gradually changed. The note explained that his father had already left the country for treatment, but assured him that they would remain in contact from time to time. Toward the end of the letter, another section immediately caught Johnson's attention.

"I have assigned an assistant who will help guide you through everything you need to know about leading McArthur Conglomerate."

Just as he finished reading, a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Johnson called.

The door opened and a woman walked inside.

Johnson blinked.

For a brief moment, he completely forgot what he was about to say.

The woman was stunning. She looked elegant and professional, with long dark hair, sharp eyes, and perfect posture. In addition to that stunning look, the young lady looked smart and carried an air of confidence.

She stopped before him and smiled politely.

“Good morning, Young Master.”

Johnson quickly composed himself.

“Good morning.”

The woman extended her hand.

“My name is Ava. I have been assigned as your personal assistant.”

She smiled professionally before continuing, “My responsibility is to educate you on everything you need to know about running McArthur Conglomerate.”

For a moment Johnson did not know what to say, but he quickly recovered and nodded.

“That would actually be great.”

Ava's smile widened slightly.

“Wonderful. If you need anything at all, please inform me without hesitation.”

Johnson was about to tell her that he needed nothing at the moment, but suddenly something came to mind. He glanced down at his clothes; he was still wearing the same old, blood-stained clothes he had on since the day the accident happened.

“Actually...” he said.

“Yes, Young Master?”

“I think I need new clothes.”

Ava immediately nodded.

“That will not be a problem. There is a luxury shopping center nearby,” she said looking down at the black cards in Johnson’s hand.

Seeing she was staring at the cards, that was when Johnson also paid attention to the two black cards resting in his hands. He picked them up and flipped them over curiously.

“These don't look like normal bank cards.”

Ava let out a soft laugh, “That is because they are not normal bank cards,” she disclosed. “They are called Black cards and provide unlimited withdrawal limits.”

Johnson nearly dropped them. He clearly knew what unlimited meant.

Ava smiled at his reaction.

“Those two cards are directly connected to the McArthur Conglomerate fortune. Each card currently contains no less than three hundred billion dollars.”

Johnson's mouth instantly dropped open.

“Three hundred billion?”

Ava nodded as casually as though she were discussing the weather.

Johnson looked back at the cards. Suddenly they felt much heavier in his hands. These two small items in his hands were equal to six hundred billion dollars!

For several long seconds he simply sat there speechless

Trying her best not laugh at his reaction, Ava bowed slightly, “Young master I will give you some space. But if you need anything, please don’t forget to give me a call,” she said handing him a card with a phone number on it. 

She bowed again before quietly leaving the room.