Urban System in America-Chapter 63 - 62: Whitmore Family

The rich aroma of roasted beans and fresh pastries lingered in the air of a small café tucked into a quieter corner of the city.

Sunlight filtered through the window beside Rex, who sat near the window, one leg lazily crossed over the other, fingers drumming the table rhythmically.

Taking the documents from Victor, he casually opened, but just after scanning the first page, his fingers stilled. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

"Interesting."

Victor nodded knowingly, "In this file is the basic information you asked for." He said, pausing, before continuing, his voice a bit low, "Whitmore family background, assets, investments—official and... not-so-official."

"Due to time constraints, this is all we could find. If you give us just a bit more time, we’ll find much more than this," Victor added.

"No, this is enough for now," Rex spoke without looking . His eyes were already scanning through the content. He was already impressed by the sheer amount of information.

Page after page revealed photos of properties, Whitmore family members, corporate structures, investment breakdowns, and grainy images of older Whitmore family members at galas and charity balls. The report was concise, detailed, and brutal in their clarity.

Victor continued, "Fourth-generation old money. It all started with Robert Whitmore. The founder of the Whitmore family’s wealth.

He built his fortune brick by brick in the real estate boom after World War II. Since then, they’ve expanded into hotels, shopping centers, commercial towers—you name it.

Their empire spans everything from luxury high-rises to government development contracts.

Today, they control zoning boards in three states, and have stakes in five construction companies aside from their own."

Stopping here, Victor chuckled. "But they’re quite sensible, as they keep their names out of things. However, their influence is still everywhere."

Rex raised his head slightly at that and couldn’t help but nod at their business acumen.

"Officially, they control assets worth somewhere between four to five hundred million dollars."

Victor tapped a page. "But that’s just what’s on paper. According to offshore leaks and insider estimates, their actual wealth could be closer to seven hundred million, possibly more.

Most of it is hidden in holding companies, trusts, and dummy corporations spread across various jurisdictions—tax havens, silent partners, shell corps, and proxy investments."

Rex tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "So... the usual tricks."

Victor nodded. "They’re not interested in being flashy. They’re interested in control. Influence. They’ve got connections with regional planning boards, urban development councils, and a few political names in their pocket. Nothing loud—but great influence in the field of real estate."

Rex also nodded in understanding. He already knew that once wealth reached a certain threshold, getting involved with politics and government become almost inevitable.

"They only reveal what they’re forced to, or have to—maybe for influence, maybe for strategic goals," he added, almost to himself. "Not what they want to. That’s the rule—for most, anyway."

"Not surprising," he murmured. "Who in their right mind advertises their true wealth?"

Victor chuckled, "Exactly."

Hearing the conversation between them, Kaelan kept quiet, but hearing this he asked curiously, "So those billionaire lists in the media...?"

"Mostly nouveau riche," Rex replied coolly. "The loud ones. They don’t have real power yet, so the hidden families let them shine. It keeps the public distracted."

Victor smirked. "Exactly. Only idiots flaunt their full worth. Real power prefers the shadows. You’ll find most names on those ’rich lists’ are just nouveau riche—people who don’t yet have enough influence to stay hidden. Flashy wealth, high-profile ventures—all just bait for public attention. If you dig deep, you’ll find that most of them just have pitiful single-digit shares.

Meanwhile, families like the Whitmores work quietly, pulling strings behind the curtain and control most of the shares through complex investment structures.

They let the young blood soak up the spotlight and take the heat while they accumulate power in silence."

Rex leaned back in his chair, with a thoughtful look on his face. "Makes sense. Can’t hate what you can’t see or even know."

Victor shrugged. "Clever, brutal, and old money. That’s how families like the Whitmores have lasted this long."

Kaelan also nodded in understanding, absorbing every word.

Pointing toward the name highlighted in the file, Rex asked curiously, "What about him?"

"Him? He is Leonard Whitmore, the current head of the Whitmore family," Victor answered.

’So, he’s the father of Logan and the brother of Clement,’ Rex thought to himself.

"Leonard is the architect of it all. He may not be a genius like his father and grandfather, but he’s quite ambitious."

"He’s the one who refined their operations and kept their businesses running," Victor added.

"Calm, methodical, ruthless. Those are the perfect keywords to describe him."

Pointing toward another photo, Victor continued, "You may know him—he’s Clement, Leonard’s younger brother."

"Currently teaching at UCLA. He isn’t as good as his elder brother—or you could say, not as ruthless. So, during the previous generation’s inheritance process, he naturally couldn’t compete and had to settle as an ordinary university professor."

"But of course," Victor added, his voice dipping, "that doesn’t mean he’s just an innocent professor. In fact, there are several rumors that he’s a scumbag with a track record of academic fraud, manipulating grades for family favors—even going as far as having relationships with female students."

"Of course, all of this could remain hidden due to the family’s influence and their connections."

Rex just nodded imperceptibly,but internally, he smirked. Not disclosing that he already knew him—much better than anyone else—especially his deeds. He had already exposed them to the whole world.

"And him," Victor said, pointing toward another photo, "that’s Logan Whitmore, the next-generation heir of the Whitmore family and also a student at UCLA. Like other family members, he’s a spoiled bastard. Bullying, fighting, and threatening other students is what he enjoys the most.

But I think he may not be so bright. I mean, who in their right mind would do things like that?"

"Maybe he really has a problem with his brain," Rex said, almost in affirmation.

Victor laughed lightly. "Wouldn’t be surprised."

Finish his introductions he said. "These are the main members of the Whitmore family—excluding a few miscellaneous ones. If you want to take action against the Whitmores, just taking them down would be enough," he said with a cruel grin.

Rex gave a faint smile "It’s not that serious. I was just a bit curious. As for what happens in the future ...Let’s wait and see."

Victor and Kaelan exchanged a look and then nodded.

Rex leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching. Honestly, he hadn’t expected this much conspiracy tied into a random university drama. Yet the deeper he dug, the more rotten it smelled.

Anyway, now the arrow has already left the bow—let’s wait and see how the situation unfolds. He just hoped it would move in a positive direction.

— ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

At that same moment, across the city, far from the café and its warm ambience, the Whitmore estate sat like a fortress.

A cold stone mansion with towering windows stood atop private land, its hedges perfectly trimmed and gates tightly shut.

its interior echoing old money and quiet power. The kind of home where silence held more weight than conversation, and every object had generations of history behind it.

In the dimly lit study of the Whitmore estate, Leonard Whitmore stood by the window, tall and imposing. Silver-haired, sharp-eyed, dressed in a custom-tailored suit, he stared out at the sprawling city below.

The room was silent, save for the faint ticking of an antique clock.

Suddenly, the door of the drawing room sprawled open...

(End of Chapter)