The Rise Of The Belittled Maxwell Arnold

Chapter 5

“Are you kidding me?” Maxwell asked in surprise, while Robert still struggled to catch his breath.

“No, I am not. How come you didn't tell me that you are from a wealthy family?” Robert asked, leaving Maxwell in a dazed state.

“Wealthy family? What's happening?” Maxwell screamed. He could feel himself going crazy any time soon.

“Someone paid for your bail, you are free now,” Robert answered Maxwell's question, but it only stirred up more questions in Maxwell's mind.

“Who was that person? And why would he pay for my bail? What exactly is going on?” Maxwell thought within himself. There was no use asking Robert; he seemed exactly as confused as he was.

After about three minutes, Maxwell had calmed down and was led outside by Robert.

He was shocked to see three luxurious helicopters standing beautifully in the compound of the police station. He was sure each copter would be worth nothing less than a billion dollars. His mouth opened wide when the sergeant bowed before him and called him ‘master’

An old man, who seemed to be in his late sixties ran to Maxwell and held his hand, staring warmly into his eyes.

“You must be Maxwell, right? Maxwell Arnold, the physician.” The old man said, and Maxwell nodded in confusion. He wondered how the old man knew of his name.

“If I may ask sir, but do we know each other?” Maxwell asked the old man. He was craving badly for answers.

“You might not know me, but I know you very well.” The old man said.

“Besides, I came here with a secret identity, and I don't want you to be exposed just yet.” The old man said.

Maxwell rolled his eyes all over the helicopters, the security guards, and the maids standing in waiting for him.

There was no means of identity for all of them, and one couldn't possibly point out the family or company they were from.

Even the sergeant couldn't tell who the old man was, what was important was the thirty million dollars, which was already paid by the old man.

The old man ensured that all conditions were met, and Maxwell was fully released.

The maids helped him into one of the helicopters in which the old man sat. The security and the maids took over the remaining two helicopters, and they all flew out of the vicinity.

Maxwell took in a deep sigh as he stared through the window, enjoying the cool breeze. He looked at the sophisticated beauty and arrangement of the city, it was very fascinating. There was no doubt that Los Angeles was one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

As the city appeared so beautiful and appealing, it failed to clear Maxwell of his heavy mind. The old man cast a glance at him and knew for sure that he was in deep thought.

“Maxwell,” the old man called, and Maxwell turned to look at him.

“Don't be afraid, son. I am not here to hurt you.” The old man said, and Maxwell felt an immediate surge of warmth flow through him. Throughout his existence, it was the first time someone would call him his son.

“I know you have lots of questions, but don't worry, I will explain everything to you once we arrive at our destination.” The old man said with a loving smile, which cooled down Maxwell's turbulent mind.

He seemed a bit relaxed for the remaining part of the journey.

The helicopter made a landing, and everyone alighted. Maxwell's eyes widened at the picturesque, and serenity of the mansion the helicopter had made its landing.

It was by far the most magnificent and beautiful mansion he had ever come across.

The air was filled with the scent of flowers, which were carefully planted, forming some kind of majestic pattern.

The building was painted in colors of Royal blue and burgundy, the lighting exuded ambiance and sophistication.

Maxwell was sure the mansion belonged to a very wealthy fellow.

“But who was the owner of this wealth?” He asked himself. Up till now, he was still oblivious to the old man's identity.

“Let's go inside.” The man said, and Maxwell obeyed, walking slowly behind the old man.

The doors seemed mechanical and automatic. Maxwell thought they opened by themselves; later, he found out that it was a security guard who was controlling them with a remote control.

Maxwell counted seven golden doors before finally reaching the interior of the building. The living room was wide and spacious, with a diamond chandelier hanging over the ceiling, reflecting a great deal of luxury. The living room only occupied the same space as the whole of his former house.

“Welcome Maxwell.” The old man said warmly.

“How about you take your bath, and eat something? Then we can discuss.” The old man said, and Maxwell sighed.

Indeed, he was very tired and hungry, a lot has happened recently, and he is just trying to be strong. Still, their curiosity about the old man's identity overshadowed every other feeling he had, but he didn't want to disobey the old man. At least, he was old enough to be his father.

“Alright, sir. Sounds good.” He said while the old man nodded with a smile.

He beckoned to some of the maids and instructed them to take Maxwell to the bathroom and freshen him up.

The maids bowed and directed Maxwell away. Maxwell was awed by the beauty and elegance of the whole building, not even a single part of the mansion was of low quality.

He stepped into the bathroom, took a warm shower, dried his body, and wore back his clothes.

He stepped out of the bathroom and was met by three maids, holding some luxurious clothes in their hands.

“What are those for?” Maxwell asked, and one of the maids took the initiative to speak.

“These are your clothes, sir; please change into them.” The maid replied with a slight bow. Maxwell was even more surprised. The clothes were designers, made by exotic brands. One of them even had a price tag of ten million dollars.

Without further questions, Maxwell collected the clothes and changed into them. He smiled as he stared at himself in the mirror, he was strikingly handsome.

He walked back to the living room, the table was already set with some exquisite dishes.

“Sit down,” the old man pointed to a chair opposite him.

“Thank you,” Maxwell muttered, pulled out the golden chair, and sat facing the old man.

“We can discuss while we eat, so let me know your concerns.” The old man said, and Maxwell heaved a sigh of relief.

“Finally!”

“Who exactly are you?” Maxwell asked, staring straight into the old man's eyes.

“I am just the manager of the house.” He simply replied while Maxwell wore a dissatisfactory look.

“Just that?” He asked in surprise.

“Yes of course.” The old man replied, fully calm and composed.

“So…who then is the owner of all this wealth?” He asked in agitation, his eyeballs rolled all over the living room.

“You, Maxwell Arnold.”

“What?”