I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 66: Nvidia conclusion III

While others felt useless, broken, or even destroyed, one man who had been crucial in the meeting felt nothing but seething anger. Gerald Thompson, the representative for Vanguard, couldn’t shake the frustration boiling inside him. It was baffling, considering that his group had benefited greatly from the proceedings. In fact, they ranked as the third biggest benefactor from the entire meeting. Yet, Gerald was far from pleased. His face remained tight with tension as he entered his hotel room, his anger still simmering.

He slammed the door behind him and walked straight to the living room, pulling at the tie around his neck, trying to release the pressure building in his chest. He needed to calm his mind before making the call—his anger would do him no favors in what was coming next.

Gerald pulled out his phone and dialed a number, waiting through the ringing. After a few moments, the call connected, and a gruff, thick-accented voice answered.

"Gerald, how are you?" the man on the other end greeted.

"I’m fine, sir. I wanted to update you on the meeting," Gerald replied, his tone respectful despite the frustration gnawing at him.

"Ah, yes. Today was the day of the meeting. So, what happened?" the man asked, his voice revealing authority and an air of impatience. From the way the conversation unfolded, it was clear that the man on the other end was Gerald’s superior.

But who could it be? Someone who could make a man like Gerald, a veteran at the top of the business world for years, someone who made millions annually, speak with such respect? The fact that Gerald showed such deference spoke volumes about the person he had just called.

Gerald took a breath before responding. "Sir, during the meeting, the first thing that happened was…" He began detailing the events, explaining how the Blackwell group had managed to get Blackrock to vote in their favor. He recounted the issuance of the shares and how everything unfolded afterward.

The man on the other end interrupted, his voice sharp with curiosity. "So, the shares… How did it go? Were you able to secure what we asked for?"

Gerald gave a slight nod, his voice steady despite the weight of the conversation. "After the new shares were issued, our stake was diluted down to 6.43 percent. But I managed to purchase 1.794 billion units of the new shares for 101.34 billion, which boosted our total to 11 percent of the shares."

There was a brief hum of approval from the other end. Then came the question Gerald had expected. "And what about the other holders, especially Blackwell? How many did they secure?"

When the man on the other side asked that question, Gerald’s face tightened in frustration. He opened his mouth, his voice tinged with irritation. "The Blackwells were the greatest benefactors in the meeting. They came in far more prepared than we had anticipated. They purchased 300 billion worth of the new shares under the guise of stabilizing the market and preventing the entry of untrustworthy, hostile shareholders. The irony…"

There was a long silence on the other end, and before the man could respond, Gerald spoke again, his tone tinged with anger and a touch of sarcasm. "But it’s not like you don’t know," he added, letting the words hang in the air.

After what felt like an eternity, the man on the other end finally spoke, his voice cool and calm. "Pardon?"

Gerald smiled, though the frustration still lingered in his voice. "Sir, you selected me because of my sharp mind and my ability to read between the lines. I started thinking—why did the Blackwells ask me to submit the file instead of going directly to you, or even to the people behind us?"

Without waiting for a response, he pressed on, his tone growing more deliberate. "At first, I thought maybe it was because I’m the representative at Nvidia for Vanguard, so they brought it to me. But that still doesn’t make sense. The Blackwells know I don’t have the authority to issue a vote on that matter. So they should have gone to you, or at least to the ones behind the group. But no, they came to me."

He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. "Then I kept thinking. If they told the people behind us, they risked losing on the shares. They’d have pushed us to buy far more and maintain our lead at Nvidia, especially considering how crucial it is to our position."

Gerald leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing with understanding. "That only left you. Why didn’t they come to you directly? And then it all clicked."

He let the silence hang for a moment, knowing the weight of his next words. "You would have the authority to make the decision, but you wouldn’t have been able to move such a large amount of funds without jeopardizing their entire plan."

After a long pause, the man on the other end finally spoke, his voice still calm but with a hint of tension. "That’s quite a tale, Gerald. But didn’t I inform the families, which would disprove your entire claim?"

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Gerald’s response was quick and unwavering. "Yes, you informed the families after you’d already approved the funds to be allocated, citing urgency so you wouldn’t be questioned. The families would have been more relaxed, thinking you’d already made a move, while you probably kept reassuring them that the Blackwells shouldn’t be able to come up with an amount substantial enough to threaten our hold as the majority shareholder."

The man smiled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "If what you’re saying is true, why wouldn’t they have just come to me directly? Since you’re insinuating I’m already working with them, wouldn’t that have been easier? They could have come straight to me."

Gerald’s smile remained cool, his eyes sharp. "For plausibility’s sake. If they had come to you directly, you would have been held fully responsible for this blunder once the families got wind of it. But now, you can claim that your subordinate was the one who misjudged the situation. You can say you went by protocol, issuing the amount you did, to address the issue within the tight time frame."

Gerald’s voice grew quieter, more intense, as he spoke the words that had been weighing on him. "But there’s one thing I can’t figure out. Why? Why would you do this? Why would you use me—betray me, betray the company—all for the Blackwells? I’ve been with you for years. When we were at Blackrock, I followed you when you switched over. I left everything behind to be by your side."

The man’s voice on the other end shifted, almost amused. "Gerald, you really are too smart for your own good."

Gerald paused, his mind racing, but the man cut in before he could respond. "Forget all of this, Gerald. As for your job—don’t worry, you won’t lose it. Not while I’m here. Goodnight, Gerald."

There was a brief silence, and then the man added, his tone colder now, "But before I go, that sharp, smart brain of yours should know— not everything needs to be said". He said the tension in the room growing "Well then, goodnight."

Gerald’s anger boiled inside him, but he held his ground, his voice low and controlled. "Goodnight… my Salim." ( who can guess who Salim is i have also shown him before when Everlyn was talking to him now i know i might be showing a lot of information but i assure you everything is connected i hope you are all enjoying the book)

On a private island off the coast of New York, nestled within a sprawling mansion of unrivaled luxury and opulence, sat a man whose presence was as commanding as the estate he inhabited. Inside the mansion, within an office that could only be described as grandiose, sat Alexander Blackwell. This was no ordinary man. Alexander Blackwell was the new patriarch of the trillion-dollar Blackwell family, a lineage that controlled Blackwell Investments—a company known for its quiet dominance.

The office was a testament to his power and wealth. The walls were adorned with sleek, modern art and large windows that overlooked the private island’s lush greenery and the sparkling waters of the Atlantic. The furniture was both elegant and functional, a large mahogany desk in the center of the room, surrounded by plush leather chairs. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, filled with rare editions and business texts. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. Every inch of the office spoke to success, sophistication, and dominance.

Alexander sat behind his desk, his posture regal, exuding an aura of control and authority. His sharp black eyes seemed to pierce through the quiet of the room as he considered the weight of the decision he had just made. The Blackwell family, after being inactive for two years, had just launched a hostile takeover of one of the world’s largest technological companies—a move that had already left many broken, ruined, and in some cases, facing imprisonment. The ripple effects of this decision would be felt worldwide

A decision that didn’t bother Alexander in the slightest. No, he didn’t know about the poor young man who had tried to impress his boss, only to end up ruining his life. Nor did he know of the trust he had just shattered between a mentor and his protégé. But the truth of the matter was this: even if he didn’t know their names, even if their faces remained unknown to him, the act of stripping a man of his dignity—by taking away his life’s work—was of little consequence. To Alexander, the only thing that mattered was that these actions served to further his goal.

He was a man driven by ambition, and any obstacle in his path—whether it was the destruction of lives, the breaking of trust, or the humiliation of others—was merely a means to an end. Alexander Blackwell had no qualms about doing what was necessary. In his world, progress didn’t care about casualties; it only cared about the final victory.

And that man—Alexander Blackwell—was just getting started. The takeover of Nvidia was merely a small puzzle in the grand scheme of his plans. The first piece had fallen into place, but Alexander had much larger ambitions in motion. His mind was already shifting toward the next phase of his carefully crafted strategy.

He sat there in his office, a cool detachment in his posture as he gazed at the sleek, modern desk in front of him. Without breaking his focus, he turned to his secretary standing nearby, her presence almost invisible in the opulence of the room. His voice was smooth, but the authority behind it was undeniable.

"Inform me about all the details from the meeting," he said, his tone leaving no room for hesitation or delay.

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