Football Dynasty-Chapter 9: Real Estate Renewal and The Shock

Arriving home, Richard struggled to pull the large suitcase up the front steps, his arms aching under the weight. But before he could even reach the door, there she was—his mother—standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, eyebrows arched, and a look that could pierce through steel.

"Well, well, Mr. Richard Maddox," she began, her voice sharp and demanding. "Care to tell me what this is all about?" She placed one hand firmly on her hip, her eyes darting between him and the oversized suitcase.

Richard let out a long sigh, already bracing himself for the inevitable questioning. "Mum, it's not what you think," he replied, panting slightly from hauling the suitcase. "By the way... could you, um, help me a little bit?"

His mother glared at him for a moment longer, but when she saw her youngest son struggling and giving her that sheepish look, her expression softened—just a bit. Letting out a huff, she walked over and grabbed the other end of the suitcase.

"You better have a good explanation for this, mister," she muttered as they both carried the suitcase inside.

Once they set it down in the living room with a heavy thud, she wiped her hands on her apron and crossed her arms again. "Alright, now, Mr. Maddox," she said sternly. "Tell me—are you really moving out? Because dragging a suitcase that big screams 'I'm leaving.'"

Richard quickly shook his head. "No, no, of course I'm not moving, Mum," he reassured her. "But... well..." He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the right words.

"How about this? Can we wait until Dad and big bro get home? I'm honestly too exhausted to explain this twice. Plus, I think it'll be easier to say it all at once."

His mother narrowed her eyes at him, clearly still suspicious, but she sighed in defeat. "Fine," she agreed. "But you'd better not be in any kind of trouble, Richard Maddox. And don't think for a second this conversation is over."

Richard smiled, relieved. "Deal. And, um... is there anything left from lunch, mom? I am starving." he asked, hopeful.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small smile creeping onto her face. "You're lucky I made extra."

"Told you I'm the favorite," Richard joked, flopping onto the couch.

"Keep talking like that, and you'll be having cold leftovers," she retorted, but her tone had softened now, the edge in her voice gone—at least for now.

As night fell, a tense energy filled the Maddox household.

Richard paced nervously around the living room, glancing at the clock every few seconds.

His mother sat quietly nearby, watching him quietly. The moment Bryan and Harry walked through the door, Richard sprang into action.

"Come on, both of you—living room, now!" he called, waving them over urgently.

Bryan, still tired from a long day at work, blinked in confusion. "What's going on? What's this about?" he asked as he was pulled toward the living room.

Harry kicked off his shoes, raising an eyebrow but following along without question.

Richard stood awkwardly in front of them, his palms sweaty as he rubbed them against his trousers.

"Alright... Dad, Mum, Harry—just hear me out," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I—uh—I need to tell you something. Actually... a lot of things..."

The room fell into a heavy silence, every eye fixed on him. Richard took a deep breath and launched into his story, starting from the very beginning.

Then—boom. When he finally finished, the room exploded.

"WHAT?! Two million?!" they all shouted in unison.

Anna looked pale. She clutched the edge of her armchair, her knuckles white. "All that money— You... you didn't do anything illegal, right?" Her voice trembled, anxiety pouring out.

Bryan leaned back, stunned. "Two million... Even if I worked every day of my life, I don't think I'd ever see that kind of money." He shook his head in disbelief.

Harry's jaw dropped, but his shock quickly shifted into suspicion. His brow furrowed as he walked over and placed a firm hand on Richard's shoulder.

"Richard," he said in a serious tone, "be honest with me. You're not mixed up in anything dangerous, are you? Drugs? Human trafficking? Something worse?"

It was a natural reaction. What else could explain such an insane amount of money?

Their minds raced through every worst-case scenario.

"What? No! Of course not!" Richard shot back, exasperated. "You know me—I've only ever cared about football. How would I even get involved in something like that?"

Harry crossed his arms, not entirely convinced. "Then tell us, Richard. How did you get all that money?"

Richard hesitated, his throat dry. He swallowed hard before finally speaking.

"Alright... I'll tell you everything."

He confessed it all—the World Cup bet, becoming a VIP at William Hall, and even how he had been lying about looking for vocational schools, using that time instead to set up his money-making plan.

When he finished, the room fell into stunned silence. No one knew what to say.

"Oh my..." Anna gasped, placing a trembling hand on her forehead as if she might faint. Her face turned pale, and Richard panicked.

"MOM!"

But before he could reach her, Anna suddenly straightened up, as if nothing had happened, her eyes now locked on the large suitcase by the door.

"Is the money in the suitcase? Is that why you borrowed your father's briefcase?" she asked, her voice filled with sudden hope.

Richard's mouth twitched at the sudden burst of vitality.

Her words also immediately caught Bryan and Harry's attention. Both turned their heads toward the suitcase, their imaginations running wild.

"Two million..." Harry whispered, eyes wide with excitement. "We're a millionaire family now!"

"No, we're not," Richard muttered quickly, his nerves spiking again.

The excitement in the room fizzled out in an instant.

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"Huh? It's not the money?" Anna asked, her brows furrowing. "Then where is it? What's in the suitcase?"

Bryan and Harry exchanged skeptical glances, now eyeing Richard with suspicion, waiting for an explanation.

"I—"

Richard swallowed hard. It felt like he was being watched by six pairs of eyes, each one sharp and ready to tear him apart. But the longer he hesitated, the bigger the problem would become. So, Richard decided to just come clean.

Before he could finish his explanation, his body automatically slid to the side, leaning next to his mother, who had already slumped over.

"MOM!"

"Oh my. My son didn't go for a vocational school, nor did he want to study. Instead, he gambled. Now he's buying this useless house... Oh, my head hurts."

If not for the fact that there are screws and staples in his head, she would probably have already pulled his ear off in annoyance. Bryan and Harry stood there, speechless.

Millions...!

Just like that... But they were also completely confused by the situation.

Why on earth would he buy so many buildings here?

Didn't he realize this area was undeveloped?

Even supermarkets were too afraid to come here—this place was just chaotic. With all the buildings he now owned, if this is true, he could be called Islington's little lord.

Almost every building—no, the entire housing complex—seemed to be under his control. The only thing he hadn't bought yet were probably the apartments.

As someone with the most experience in the room, Bryan took a deep breath to calm his uneasiness. He asked patiently, "Son, can you explain why you've bought so many houses? Are you trying to bet on property?"

Entering the property market was indeed lucrative, but it was also a risky game, especially if you didn't fully understand the bigger picture.

Bryan knew this. Anna knew this. Harry knew this.

This was the game of the rich. They often heard people discussing it and saw the newspapers reporting on it, so they weren't completely clueless.

Richard wanted to say something, but in the end, nothing came out. He couldn't defend himself. There was no way he could tell them, 'Mom, Dad, the houses will be worth more next year," or "The big bang is about to be announced!'

No way, right?

However, that was exactly why Richard had bought nearly every building here. The big bang is coming, and with the influx of money flooding in, everything is about to change.

It's all about the money—so much money—that Islington is set to become the first property hotspot. In fact, this will lead to an influx of foreign banks into the Square Mile, with bankers eyeing homes in Islington's elegant Georgian terraces and squares just up the road.

Soon, estate agents were vying for space on Upper Street, which eventually earned the nickname "Supper St." later. This frenzy sparked a massive wave of office development in the City, where the growing demand for large trading floors transformed miles of derelict land into London's new financial district.

This shift encouraged more enlightened urban planning. Truth be told, it wasn't just Islington. Richard had already planned everything meticulously.

First, Islington—the desolate area, the great spiral of decay.

Second, Exmouth Market in Finsbury, already declared a ghost town.

Third, King's Cross and St Pancras—infamous for their association with prostitution and drug abuse.

He wanted to acquire property little by little, buying and selling, scalping the market. His first target? The bankers and financial institutions who would soon be eyeing Islington.

Sighing, Anna could only regret that he had already spent the money. "Is the money all gone?" she asked quietly.

"No, there's still about fifty thousand left."

"Then give it to me."

"Ah?"

"Yes, give it to me."

"B-but why?"

"Why? After your careless spending? Give it to me now!"

Reluctantly, Richard handed over his ATM card. In the mid-1980s, ATM cards had already been introduced, but they were not as ubiquitous or advanced as today. They were mostly used for smaller withdrawals.

"But my suitcase—"

"Forget the suitcase. No one cares about your useless house," Anna snapped, her frustration evident. She was fuming now.

Richard's heart pounded in his chest. Almost... almost...

If he said he still had one hundred and fifty thousand, everything would fall apart. The money for the building repairs would be gone. Thankfully, he only mentioned there was fifty thousand left.

"Yes, Mom," Richard said, trying to stay calm. Then, as he remembered something, he added, "Ah, by the way..."

"What now?" Anna's patience was running thin.

"I need to go to Manchester this week. I have to meet someone."

"Manchester? Why are you going all the way there?" Anna eyed him suspiciously.

"Yeah, it's about City. I... uh, how should I put it... I might be a shareholder?"

"Hmm? What's a shareholder?" she asked, clearly confused.

However, Harry, who had been silent up until now, was shocked.

"What?! You own a football club now?"

Richard frantically waved his hand. "No, no, it's just a small share. I can't even attend the meetings. I'm just going there for an introduction."

There was no way he was going to tell them it was just a single share—it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, Manchester City? Is that the team in the second division? The one from the same city as Manchester United?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Richard replied.

"How could you have Manchester City shares? I'd rather buy Barnet or London Tigers!"

Richard's mouth twitched upon hearing the clubs Harry mentioned. "Well, I never thought I'd own a share in a football club either."