I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 81: Alexander Day Four

"HA HA HA HA!" A deep, booming laugh filled the room as a man nearly tumbled over, his body shaking with amusement. He laughed as if he had just heard the greatest joke in the world.

The man had black hair and appeared to be in his late sixties. Sitting opposite him was another man, also with black hair. Their resemblance was undeniable—they clearly shared the same ancestry.

Unlike the laughing man, his companion was far from amused. With a sigh, he said, "Brother, are you done?"

Cassius Blackwell, the one who had been laughing, gradually calmed down, wiping away the tears that had formed in his eyes.

As Cassius finished laughing, he wiped the last traces of amusement from his face and said, "That’s a nice joke. I knew keeping you around would pay off—congrats, you just earned your pay." His voice then turned cold, his smile vanishing. "That was good, Richmond. Nice joke." He repeated the last part with emphasis, making it clear that it should be a joke.

Richmond, who had silently endured his elder brother’s laughter, finally spoke. "Brother, please. Desmond is really qualified. He would be an asset to the company, and he wants to work for Blackwell investments. Please, brother."

Cassius studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, his voice dripped with venom as he spat, "That druggie wants to be part of Blackwell Investments? Are you serious?"

Richmond’s voice came out pleading. "Brother, he has changed. He’s been out of rehab and sober for months now. You know I wouldn’t even be here asking if I didn’t believe he had truly changed."

Cassius remained silent, his brow furrowed in thought. Seeing this as a chance, Richmond pressed on. "Please, brother. Please."

Cassius let out a long sigh. "Even if—and that’s a big if—I wanted to, it’s out of my hands. Alexander is running the company now. If you want Desmond in, go talk to him."

Richmond frowned at the mention of his nephew. He knew exactly how that conversation would go. Shaking his head, he said, "Brother, we both know Alex won’t agree. That’s why I came to you. Please, just accept him in."

Cassius sighed again, rubbing his temple. "I’m sorry, Richmond, but Desmond’s appointment isn’t up to me. I have no real power in the company anymore. It’s all Alex now."

Richmond’s jaw clenched. "But you’re the chairman, aren’t you?"

Cassius shook his head. "Just an empty title. I have no real decision-making power. I’m more on the sidelines now, really."

Richmond scoffed. "So that’s it? Hiding behind your son to reject me?"

Cassius’ face darkened at the remark, but before he could respond, Richmond pressed on, his words cutting deeper.

"We both know you own the shares, not Alex. It’s all still in your hands. Sure, you’ve stepped back, but I know you, Cassius. If you really wanted to do this, you could. But no—you’re just the same as you’ve always been. Lying and scheming your way through life."

Richmond leaned forward, his voice lowering into something almost venomous. "Fine. You don’t want Desmond in the company? No problem. But be a man and say it to my face. Don’t hide behind your son like some pathetic little boy."

Cassius narrowed his eyes, his expression unreadable. "What?" he said, his voice dangerously low.

Richmond didn’t hold back. His voice rose, fueled by years of frustration. "Yes! A little boy! I ask you for one thing—just one damn thing! Help my son. Give him the job he rightfully deserves! You know how hardworking he is. But no—you always like to watch me beg, like you enjoy keeping me beneath you!" He shook his head, bitterness lacing his words. "I rue the day I became your brother."

The words barely had time to settle before Cassius’ palm slammed down on his desk with a thunderous bang. The sheer force of it rattled the glass of water sitting on the edge. Richmond flinched, his words caught in his throat as he stared at his brother in shock.

When Cassius spoke, his voice was ice—slow, deliberate, and laced with fury. "You call me a boy?" His dark eyes burned as he leaned forward, towering over Richmond. "You dare?"

He straightened, rolling his shoulders back, his presence filling the room. "I am a man—the very definition of one! I have earned every single thing I have. I crawled my way from the ground up, fought for every inch of my success while you stood there waiting for life to hand you something!" His voice climbed, resonating through the room like thunder.

He took a step forward, his presence suffocating. "My son and my daughter went to school with the sons and daughters of kings and queens!" He slammed his hand against the desk again, the force vibrating through the polished wood. Richmond jolted slightly, but Cassius didn’t stop.

"I built that! I made that happen!" His chest rose and fell with controlled rage as he stared his brother down.

And then, his voice dropped, seething with disdain. "You—a spoiled, entitled brat—you call me a boy?" He scoffed, stepping even closer, the weight of his words pressing against Richmond. "I gave you everything. I handed you the world on a silver platter, and you—" He jabbed a finger toward Richmond. "You squandered it."

Cassius exhaled sharply, shaking his head before his voice dipped into something colder, crueler. "Now you come here, asking me to take in that drug-overdosed bastard of yours? No. Not in my company. Not when you should be on your knees thanking me for every damn thing I’ve done for you!" His eyes darkened further. "But you can’t, can you? Because you’ve never worked a single day in your goddamn life for anything."

The room was silent, thick with tension. Richmond clenched his fists, his knuckles white, his jaw tightening as he swallowed his anger. His voice came out quieter, but no less sharp. "You don’t know anything about me."

Cassius simply shook his head, his expression almost pitying. "Sadly, I know everything about you." He turned away, dismissing him with nothing more than a cold flick of his wrist. "Now leave. I don’t want to see you again."

Richmond hesitated, his breathing shallow. He cast one last look at his elder brother, now standing by the window, his broad back turned to him. Cassius didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

Richmond exhaled through his nose, his lips curling in something between anger and disappointment. "You stood there, abusing my son, calling him a druggie…" He paused, his voice quieter, but cutting like a blade. "But I would very much rather have him—with all his imperfections—over whatever it is you have that you call a son."

He stepped back, shaking his head. "Good night, brother."

And with that, he walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

Cassius didn’t turn. He simply stood there, staring out the window, unmoving. His fingers slowly curled into a fist.

The office was silent once more.

The night was heavy with silence. Cassius walked down the dimly lit hallway of his mansion—his island mansion, one he had built with his own hands, or at least, his own power. It was a fortress of wealth and legacy, yet tonight, it felt… empty.

The mansion was fully staffed, filled with everything a man of his stature could ever need. And yet, stepping back from the company had shown him how stripped of life it really was.

Honestly what he told Richmond earlier wasn’t a complete lie.

He had, in many ways, lost control of his empire. His empire. Alexander had seen to that, pushing him out under the guise of his plan. His son had fired half the staff—his most trusted men, his loyal subordinates—all in the name of restructuring. Cassius wasn’t blind. He knew the truth. This wasn’t about the company’s future. This was about making sure he had no say in it.

The Cassius of old would have fought back—should have fought back. He had the power to crush whatever trick Alexander was playing. The company shares were still in his hands. He could have reminded everyone exactly who built Blackwell Investments from the ground up.

But he hadn’t.

Not because he was weak. Not because he had lost his edge.

But because…

Because he had created Alexander.

And for the first time in his life, Cassius found himself questioning everything.

The time away from his empire had softened him—or at least, softened him compared to the man he used to be. He found himself thinking more about his family—his wife, his daughter, the things he had spent a lifetime neglecting in his relentless pursuit of power.

His thoughts were interrupted as he turned a corner in the hallway, stopping in front of a familiar door. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

It was a bedroom. Not his.

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The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room. In the center, sprawled on a massive king-sized bed, lay his son—his Alexander.

For a moment, Cassius simply stood there, watching him.

Despite everything, despite the battles between them, he couldn’t deny one thing—that was his boy.

He sighed, running a hand down his face, thinking of what he wanted to say. But before he could even speak, Alexander stirred, as if sensing his presence.

The younger Blackwell’s eyes fluttered open, dark and piercing, mirroring his father’s own. A flicker of surprise crossed his face as he focused on the figure standing before him. His voice was rough with sleep, but steady.

"Father."

Cassius remained silent for a moment, then met his son’s gaze with a rare openness.

"Son," he said, his voice low but firm. "We need to talk."

Hello, everyone!

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