Bloodline Reckoning: The System Made Me Filthy Rich

The Morgan estate was quiet that afternoon, the late summer sun spilling through the many tall, large windows and scattering golden patterns across the shiny marble floors.

The old house was always exquisite, as if it were full of wonder stories from all the generations that had wandered through its halls.

Noah sensed all that as he stood at the heavy oak doors.

But then his heart was pounding hard against his ribs, as he realized that this visit felt heavier than any he had ever made before.

He had not announced his arrival.

There had been no phone call, no messenger sent ahead to soften the surprise. He had simply decided that it was time.

He walked alone toward the backyard pavilion after dismissing the butler.

When the door creaked open, it was Isabel Reid who appeared first. Her soft eyes widened the instant she saw him.

"Noah…?" Her voice cracked, almost uncertain if her old eyes deceived her.

"Grandma," Noah gently greeted her.

In the next moment, Isabel's fragile hands grasped his arms; she was too happy to see him again without anyone from their family calling him over.

"You... you didn't tell us you were coming. Oh, my dear boy…"

She pulled him close, her trembling frame pressing against him with a force that carried more love than strength.

The sound of the door drew Alexander Morgan from the sitting room. He moved with difficulty, leaning heavily on his cane, his breath shallow but steady.

His eyes, sharp despite the wrinkles around them, softened when they landed on Noah.

"Noah—"

The name brought feelings of pride, surprise, and regret. He still regrets everything he did to Noah when he suddenly entered their lives, and how suspicious he was of him.

Noah stepped forward and carefully embraced his grandfather. The old man's grip was still firm, despite his frailty.

"Grandpa, I apologize for showing up unexpectedly..." Noah whispered.

After they exchanged small talk in the living room, the house staff and butler came in, as they began serving lunch.

Isabel had fussed endlessly, summoning the house staff to prepare more dishes even though Noah insisted he was content with whatever they already had.

Noah looked at his grandfather.

"Grandpa, I'm happy you can now walk..."

Alexander sat upright at the head of the table, a feat that had seemed impossible just weeks ago when his illness had confined him mostly to bed.

"I've been feeling stronger," Alexander admitted, smiling at Noah. "Not as strong as I once was, but enough to walk a few steps, enough to face the day. That alone is a victory, isn't it?"

"It is," Noah agreed quietly, though his eyes lingered on the frailness of the man before him.

"Your grandfather refuses to admit it, but he has been stubborn. Every morning, he tries to walk farther than the day before. He says it's for me, but I know it's for you, too."

Noah lowered his gaze while continuing to enjoy his lunch.

After the meal, as the afternoon light shifted into a golden haze, Noah finally spoke.

"Grandpa, Grandma… there's somewhere I'd like to take you. Somewhere important."

Isabel tilted her head, her brow creasing.

"Somewhere? Why not tell us first, dear? Why the secrecy?"

"You'll understand once we get there," Noah said softly. His tone was gentle but firm enough to silence further questions.

And so, though uncertain, they agreed.

...

After an hour, their car finally rolled onto the business street, and the towering silhouette of the Golden Phoenix Tower came into view.

As if sensing their destination, Alexander turned his head toward Noah, who was at the wheel, and asked, his voice careful but expectant, "Noah… are we going to the Golden Phoenix Tower?"

Noah glanced briefly at the rearview mirror.

"Yes, Grandpa."

"Oh, Noah…" Isabel Reid's voice trembled, soft with emotion. "Your grandpa has been waiting for this chance… Thank you, Noah."

"No need to thank me, Grandma. This is the right time." He offered a reassuring smile as he guided the car into the underground private lobby.

Once parked, Noah stepped out and carefully helped Alexander into his wheelchair. With steady hands, he pushed him toward the elevator.

Moments later, when the doors slid open on the sixty-ninth floor, both elders froze in astonishment. The entire level resembled a hospital, but not a normal one.

The halls were unnervingly silent. A handful of nurses and guards moved about, but there were no patients, no chatter, no life. Just emptiness. Just them.

"Noah… there's a hospital here?" Alexander asked, twisting slightly in his chair to look up at him.

"Yes," Noah answered, continuing to push the wheelchair forward. His tone was calm, "The facilities here are more advanced than any hospital in the country. And the doctors… they're the best."

Isabel's eyes widened as realization sank in. "Noah… so you brought your grandfather here for treatment?"

Noah didn't reply immediately. Instead, he stopped just before a heavy door. His hand lingered on the handle.

Slowly, he turned to look at Isabel, then down at Alexander in the chair. A gentle smile touched his lips.

Then, without another word, he pushed the door open.

The sight beyond made Isabel gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

Alexander's grip tightened painfully around his cane, his frail body trembling.

Sitting silently on the edge of a hospital bed was a man who should not have been there. A man they had mourned. A man they believed long dead.

Yet there he was—Anderson—alive. Waiting for them, as if he had known they would come.

His frame was thinner, his skin pale, worn by years of illness and isolation. But his eyes… those eyes still blazed with the same fire, the same unyielding presence that had defined him all his life.

"Oh my God… Ander…" Isabel whispered, her voice breaking.

"Anderson… how… how could this be? How are you alive?" Alexander's weak voice shook, the words barely escaping his trembling lips.

"Father… Mother…" Anderson's smile faltered as he slowly rose to his feet. His body looked thin, yet his spirit was unmistakably strong.