Reborn Heiress Is Remarrying
Chapter 117: Father’s Pain

Chapter 117: Father’s Pain

Chapter 117: Father’s Pain

"So little left..."

Leon Hoffman sat in his study, the pressure of the years pushing down on him felt heavier than ever.

The fire crackled in the hearth, and it formed shadows against the walls of his grand estate.

But it didn’t feel grand. It didn’t feel like home.

Not without Arthur’s laughter ringing through the halls. Not with Diane still suffering, still fighting battles she never should have had to fight.

And that was his fault. All of it.

No matter how much money he regained, no matter how many victories he won in court, no matter how many people he crushed to reclaim what was stolen—none of it could fix his family.

Rachel had taken everything from him. His fortune. His reputation. His children.

And even now, years later, the damage still remained.

Leon let out a long sigh, rubbing his temple.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Come in."

His assistant, Henry, stepped inside, carrying a stack of documents.

"Sir, the last of your assets have been fully recovered. The bank has confirmed the final transfers."

Leon nodded, taking the papers. "And Rachel’s offshore accounts?"

"Frozen. Any remaining funds have been legally transferred back under your name."

Leon exhaled, flipping through the documents.

It was all here. Everything.

Everything Rachel had stolen. Everything she had tried to build without him.

And yet—

It didn’t feel like a victory.

Not when the damage was already done.

Not when Diane was still suffering from the scars of what Rachel had put her through.

Not when Arthur was gone.

Leon set the papers down, his fingers tightening slightly. "And Arthur?"

Henry hesitated. "He’s still in Germany. The reports from Mrs. Lang say he’s adjusting well."

Leon nodded slowly. "Good."

But it wasn’t good.

His son was halfway across the world. Safe, yes—but gone.

Leon missed him more than he could put into words.

Missed his quiet presence. Missed the way he would silently linger in the doorway when he wanted company but didn’t know how to ask for it.

Missed the way Arthur used to hold his hand, like he was his anchor to the world.

And now, Diane was also alone.

Leon swallowed hard. "Make sure he has everything he needs."

Henry nodded. "Of course."

Leon leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"Do you think I failed them?" he asked suddenly.

Henry hesitated. "Sir?"

Leon exhaled, running a hand through his graying hair. "My children. Do you think I failed them?"

Henry’s voice was careful. "You did what you thought was best."

Leon let out a humorless chuckle. "That’s what people say when they don’t want to admit the truth."

Henry didn’t respond.

Leon sighed. "I should have seen what Rachel was doing. Should have protected Diane from her. Should have stopped it before it got this far."

"Sir—"

Leon held up a hand. "I let Diane suffer. I let Arthur be caught in the middle of it. And now, even after all this, they’re still struggling."

Henry’s expression was blank... "Diane is strong."

Leon smiled faintly. "She is."

Stronger than he had ever been.

Stronger than Rachel ever gave her credit for.

But strength came at a cost.

And Diane had paid too much.

Leon looked down at his hands. They used to be stable, strong. Now, they trembled slightly.

The doctors had warned him about that.

Warned him about the fatigue, the headaches, the weakness that was creeping in more and more each day.

The blood tests had come back a week ago.

He had known something was wrong before that.

But seeing it in writing—

Seeing the diagnosis—

It had made it real.

Leon breathed out again, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

Stage Two. Treatable. Manageable.

But still—

It was cancer.

And Diane didn’t know.

Arthur didn’t know. No one did.

Leon swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away.His children had already lost too much.They didn’t need to lose him too.

He had always known life was unpredictable, but he never expected his own body to betray him like this.

Cancer.

The word echoed in his mind like a cruel joke.

It wasn’t just about the illness itself. It was about time.

How much of it did he have left? Would he see Arthur grow up? Would he be there when Diane finally stopped looking over her shoulder, waiting for the next war?

Leon closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the rim of the whiskey glass in front of him.

He had fought for so long—against Rachel, against the world—to reclaim everything that had been taken from him.

And now, just when he had finally won, his body was failing.

It wasn’t fair.

But then again, life had never been fair to the Hoffman family.

With a slow breath, he reached into his desk and pulled out his will.

It had been written years ago, back when Rachel was still manipulating his assets, when Arthur was still too young to understand the world, when Diane was still gone—wandering between the ruins of her childhood and the person she had been forced to become.

That will was useless now.

Things had changed.

And so would his legacy.

Leon picked up a pen, his hands looked stable despite the mess inside him.

Half to Diane. Half to Arthur.

No one would come between them again.

Not money. Not power. Not Rachel’s ghosts.

Diane had been through hell and back. She deserved everything.

But Arthur—Arthur was still a child. Still too young to understand the depth of what had been done to him.

Leon would make sure he was taken care of.

He would make sure neither of them ever had to fight for what was already theirs.

His pen scratched across the paper as he wrote, sealing his final wishes.

When he was gone, no one—not the courts, not corrupt lawyers, not the vultures waiting in the shadows—would ever be able to take from his children again.

Diane would inherit the company. She was the only one ruthless enough to protect it.

Arthur would inherit the estate. It would always be his home, no matter where he ended up in the world.

Everything else—stocks, investments, offshore holdings—would be split between them.

Fifty-fifty. No loopholes. No clauses. No one could contest it.

Leon let out a slow breath, signing his name at the bottom of the document.

His legacy was secure.

Now, all that was left was to tell them.

But not yet.

Not until he was ready.