I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 78: Alexander Day One III

Back in the office, Cassius sat across from Patrick Morgan, the newly appointed head of the Morgan family. The man sat with such an air of authority that it was clear he was one of the most powerful people in the world. Patrick controlled JP Morgan Chase, the largest bank on the planet, with assets reaching into the trillions. His decisions could affect the fate of millions of people.

And here he was, meeting with Cassius Blackwell, a man whom Patrick had started to regard as an equal.

Cassius’s voice broke the silence. "If you agree to do that, Blackwell Investments will move all its assets to JP Morgan Chase within the month."

Patrick, who had been dealing with personal troubles ever since his second wife moved in with his son, sighed deeply before responding. "Fine. But just know that we’ll just be shielding you. The Morgans have no interest in fighting the Rockefellers."

Cassius nodded with a sharp smile. "Deal."

"Well then," Patrick said, leaning back in his chair, "let’s go eat. My wife cooked, plus it’ll give me a good opportunity to meet the son you’re always raving about."

Cassius grinned, his voice laced with humor. "Your wife—which one?" he laughed louder, enjoying the moment.

Just then, a frantic knock echoed through the door. Patrick looked up, irritated but composed. "Enter."

A maid rushed in, visibly distressed. "Sir, the kids—they’re fighting!"

Patrick sighed deeply. "Get their mothers." He looked at Cassius, adding, "Sorry about this. It’s been happening a lot lately. That Thomas is a real troublemaker."

The maid hesitated before speaking again, looking at Patrick. "No, sir. It’s not Young Master Thomas."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

The maid took a breath, then said, "It’s Mr. Blackwell’s son who’s fighting with Young Master David."

Cassius’s expression faltered as he processed the words. "That can’t be..." he murmured, disbelief creeping into his voice.

The maid nodded, saying again. "Yes, sir. It’s Mr. Blackwell’s son who’s fighting with the second Young Master."

The car was eerily silent as it rolled down the road. Alexander Blackwell sat beside his father, his tuxedo ruined and dirtied from the fight he had just been in. He felt a heavy sense of shame pressing on him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen his father angry, but it was the first time he had been on the receiving end of that fury.

Sebastian, who was driving, broke the silence. "Sir, there’s no need to be down. I’m sure Mr. Morgan won’t pull back on the deal just because the kids fought."

But Cassius, who had been quietly fuming the entire ride, turned to his son. His voice was cold but firm. "Why did you fight him?"

Alexander looked up at his father, his eyes filled with a mix of defiance and hurt. "He abused our family name."

Cassius hummed thoughtfully, clearly still simmering. "Sebastian, pull over," he ordered.

Sebastian didn’t question it and slowly steered the car to the side of the road. When the car stopped, Cassius snapped, "Get out."

Alexander opened the door and stepped out, his movements stiff. Sebastian, hesitant, spoke up. "Sir, I don’t think—"

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

Cassius cut him off, his tone sharp. "Stay in the car Sebastian."

As the door slammed shut, Alexander stood in the open space, the vast emptiness around him reflecting his own turmoil. He didn’t quite know what he was feeling—something foreign, something he hadn’t experienced before. His gaze wandered across the barren landscape, the wind brushing against his cheeks, but it couldn’t clear the knot in his stomach.

He heard his father’s footsteps behind him. Alexander quickly straightened up, trying to brush off the dirt from his tux, hoping to at least look somewhat presentable. He didn’t want to face his father in this state, not after everything that had happened.

Cassius stood next to his son, his gaze intense as Alexander met his eyes. Both of them shared the same black eyes, the same powerful stare. Cassius felt a pang of something—perhaps pride or frustration—ripple through him as he observed his son’s unflinching gaze. Sighing, he finally broke the silence.

"Alexander, do you know why I’m angry?" His voice was low but steady.

Alexander hesitated, then answered cautiously. "Is it because I might have ruined the deal?"

Cassius shook his head, the frustration evident in the sharpness of his voice. "I don’t care about the deal. It’s only even being made because of fools believing that wealth should only be earned by bloodline, not by hustle."

His voice grew louder, fueled by a rising anger. "People who were just lucky. If I had been born in their ancestors’ time, they would’ve seen what true Wealth was. John D. Rockefeller? J.P. Morgan? The only reason they’re proud is because I wasn’t around to challenge their so-called ancestors."

Cassius’s chest swelled with pride as he spoke, his voice booming with conviction. He had built his wealth from the ground up, amassing a fortune now worth $995 billion. He had the capital, the power, and the unshakable confidence to speak as he did.

Alexander watched his father in awe. In that moment, Cassius looked heroic—his figure towering against the setting sun, as if nothing in the world could stop him. Something stirred within Alexander, a spark he couldn’t quite explain.

Cassius continued, his words laced with ambition. "Just you wait, son. I’m going to build a legacy so vast, so wealthy, that it will rival everything those people spent generations to create."

Alexander felt a shiver run down his spine as he absorbed his father’s words. But Cassius wasn’t finished yet. He turned his gaze fully to Alexander, a sharp intensity in his eyes.

"No, son," Cassius said, his voice softer now, yet firm. "The reason I’m mad at you is because you couldn’t control your anger."

Hearing his father’s words, Alexander lowered his head, his voice barely a whisper. "Sorry, Father. I promise I won’t get angry again."

Cassius raised an eyebrow, his gaze hardening. "What are you saying?"

Alexander looked up, confused by the sudden shift in his father’s tone. Cassius stared at him for a long moment before speaking again, his voice calm but deliberate.

"Son, remember what I said. I’m not angry that you got angry. I’m angry that you couldn’t control it."

Alexander furrowed his brow, trying to process the words.

Cassius continued, his tone now a mix of authority and wisdom, as he leaned closer to his son. "Anger is one of the most powerful emotions, but it must be controlled. Instead of releasing it for immediate gratification, you build it. Let it fester, let it grow until you’re ready to hit them with the ultimate revenge and do you know what that is."

He paused, looking his son in the eye, knowing full well that Alexander was only five years old, yet he wanted him to understand this crucial lesson.

"Success," Cassius declared, his voice filled with certainty. "Use your anger to fuel your success. That’s the ultimate payback. You are destined for greatness, as you are my son.

Mediocrity will never be yours. But you must learn to control your emotions and think of the future."

Cassius pulled Alexander closer, his hand resting firmly on his son’s shoulder he sighed saying. " Well, I’m still here to teach you. Now let’s go back to the car."

Alexander nodded quietly, the weight of his father’s words settling on him as they began walking back.

Cassius’s voice broke the silence, his tone light but carrying an edge of pride. "Well, at least tell me—who won the fight? You better not have let that Morgan brat beat you."

When they arrived home, the shouting from his mother filled the air, her voice tinged with both concern and frustration over what had happened to her son. But Alexander, still processing everything, walked quietly past her and made his way upstairs. The words of his father reverberated in his mind, each syllable weighing heavily on him.

Today had been more eventful than he had expected, and the lessons he’d learned from his father, though harsh, were now firmly planted in his thoughts. "Control your anger."

The words echoed over and over as he entered his room and sat down on the bed, his mind swirling. He had always been different, but today he realized that the way he acted, especially his impulses, could have a lasting impact—not just on himself but on everything his father had worked for.

He sat there, deep in thought, his small hands clenched into fists, as he mulled over his father’s lesson. Alexander knew that controlling his anger wouldn’t be easy. But if there was one thing he understood about his father, it was that he always expected more from him. And that was a burden he had yet to fully grasp, but one that seemed to define who he was becoming.

This was one of the Five most meaningful days of the live of Alexander Blackwell

A.N

This extra chapter is courtesy of TW_MIRAGE dude you are the best Mahn thanks once again

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