Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now

Chapter 993:

“Eric, stop!” Ernest called after him, but it was no use. His brother was already gone.

He watched the door swing shut, his brows drawn tight in frustration and dread. “Isn’t it ironic? No matter what he does, he just can’t escape the grip of the Scott family.”

Eric never imagined he’d return here one day. Not after all these years. Not to this place—a place that had once been a living hell.

Inside, the villa was eerily quiet. The only sound he could hear was water simmering gently in a kettle, sending faint tendrils of steam into the air.

Ferris stood near the window, in front of a rare, meticulously pruned pot plant. With slow, deliberate care, he wiped each glossy leaf with a damp cloth.

“Mr. Scott.” Cordell stepped into the room, holding a folder. He gave a small nod. “The results have arrived.”

Without turning, Ferris raised his hand. “Give it to me.”

Cordell placed the sealed envelope in his palm, and then silently handed over a silver letter opener. “It just arrived.”

Ferris didn’t rush. He had stayed up, waiting—knowing this would come tonight.

He sliced the seal with practiced ease and unfolded the documents inside.

Two, maybe three pages. The scientific jargon meant little to him—he skipped past it without a glance, flipping to the last page. Straight to the line that mattered.

“Sample A and Sample B, DNA match rate: 99.99%. Conclusion: Biological father-son relationship.”

There it was. Undeniable.

Ferris stared at the words for a long moment. His eyes gleamed, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile curved across his lips. “Good…” he murmured, his voice low with satisfaction. Then louder—stronger, filled with a malicious joy—”Very good.”

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Cordell, catching the flicker of emotion in Ferris’ eyes, leaned in to read the report himself. His face broke into a grin. “Mr. Scott, congratulations! He really is your son. After all these years… you finally have a true heir!”

Ferris arched an eyebrow, his expression brightening with unmistakable satisfaction. Cordell wasn’t wrong.noveldrama

Throughout his life, Ferris had fathered six sons and three daughters—his bloodline extended into the next generation through numerous grandchildren.

But among them all, not one had lived up to his expectations.

They were either soft, foolish, or too easily manipulated. Only one had ever shown potential—his youngest. The boy who’d run away, grown up on the fringes, and made something of himself without the Scott name.

“Mr. Scott,” Cordell said eagerly, unable to hide his excitement. “Shall we begin preparing to bring him home?”

Before Ferris could respond, the butler stepped into the room, bowing slightly. “Mr. Scott… Mr. Eric Flynn has arrived. Should I let him in?”

Ferris’ eyes gleamed.

He and Cordell exchanged a glance—then shared a quiet laugh. “Speak of the devil,” Ferris said, amused. “Invite him in!”

Eric was just in time.

Cordell chuckled beside him. “You and him… truly, a father and son. Right down to the timing.”

Ferris let out a deep, satisfied laugh.

The air in the room shifted.

Moments later, the calm was shattered by an angry roar— “Ferris!”

Lifting his head defiantly, Eric fixed Ferris with a furious stare and asked, “Why did Blisey Dock go up in flames?”

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