I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

David Morgan leaned back in his chair, his phone still warm in his hand from the abrupt end of the call with Alexander Blackwell. He stared at the screen for a moment, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly in thought. His assistant, Malcolm, stood hesitantly by the door, a folder clutched tightly in his hands.

"Sir, the board is ready for you," Malcolm said, his voice careful but firm. "Mr. Dimon and the others are expecting your input on the quarterly performance strategy."

David's gaze shifted to Malcolm, his expression impassive. He rose smoothly, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored navy suit. "Tell them the meeting is rescheduled."

Malcolm blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. "Rescheduled, sir? But this is critical. JPMorgan's entire executive team is waiting, and the agenda includes the acquisition discussion. You—"

David cut him off with a wave of his hand. "We'll discuss acquisitions another day. For now, I have somewhere more urgent to be."

Malcolm's brow furrowed in confusion. "Urgent? Sir, perhaps I can inform them that there's a pressing matter with…" He paused, clearly searching for a suitable excuse. "A high-value client?"

David glanced at Malcolm with a faint smirk, his usual calm demeanor touched with amusement. "Tell them I need to check on some cars."

Malcolm's jaw slackened slightly, the professional veneer cracking. "Cars, sir? Did you say… cars?"

David ignored the incredulity in his assistant's tone and strode past him, the soft click of his shoes echoing in the spacious office. His words, casual but resolute, lingered in the air. "Yes, Malcolm. Cars. And no, I'm not joking."

As Malcolm stood frozen in the doorway, David entered the private elevator that led directly to the underground parking lot of JPMorgan's headquarters. The doors closed with a soft chime, leaving Malcolm behind, still clutching his folder.

In the expansive parking lot, David's gaze landed on his car of choice: an Aston Martin Valkyrie. The hypercar gleamed under the dim lights, its aggressive lines and aerodynamic design a testament to both engineering brilliance and exclusivity. With only a handful of these cars in existence, the Valkyrie epitomized the pinnacle of automotive luxury—a fitting match for David Morgan's status.

Sliding into the driver's seat, David's hand lingered for a moment on the steering wheel, a masterpiece of carbon fiber and leather. The digital displays flickered to life, bathing the interior in a soft glow. The low rumble of the engine reverberated through the car as he started it, a sound that carried the promise of unparalleled speed.

As the Valkyrie glided out of the garage and onto the streets of New York, David's thoughts drifted. Despite the Morgan family's wealth and influence—a legacy stretching back to the original J.P. Morgan himself—they had long chosen to wield their power from the shadows. While the Blackwell family commanded headlines and boardrooms with their aggressive moves, the Morgans operated behind the scenes, orchestrating global financial strategies with quiet precision.

David had grown up in a world of unspoken rules and invisible dominance, where old money dictated not just the markets but entire economies. Yet, unlike many heirs of his stature, he had little interest in clinging solely to the family's traditional methods. His friendship with Alexander Blackwell—a man whose empire was built on modern risk and calculated audacity—had often been seen as unconventional.

David smirked to himself as he remembered their childhood. They had been an unlikely pair: Alexander, the quiet but intimidating boy with sharp eyes and a natural command of any room, and David, the sociable charmer with a knack for turning even the stiffest of gatherings into lively affairs. Despite their differences, they had forged an unbreakable bond, one that endured through the years and the shifting landscapes of their empires.

As the Valkyrie weaved through traffic with ease, David's thoughts returned to the phone call. Alexander's voice had been as curt and direct as ever, his request for information about the Bugatti David had shown him months ago both surprising and intriguing. It wasn't often that Alexander showed interest in anything outside his carefully curated realm of power moves and investments.

"So he's buying cars now," David muttered to himself, a mix of amusement and curiosity coloring his tone.

The Valkyrie roared as he accelerated onto the highway, the city skyline fading behind him. The Blackwell family dock wasn't far, but David was eager to see his old friend. If Alexander was finally dabbling in luxury for its own sake, it marked a rare departure from his usual calculated persona. Perhaps there was more to this than just cars. Or perhaps it was just Alexander being Alexander, a man whose motivations often defied easy understanding.

As the dock came into view, David slowed the Valkyrie, the hypercar's imposing presence drawing the attention of even the seasoned security personnel stationed nearby. The gates opened at his approach, and he drove in, his eyes scanning the area. Spotting Alexander standing near the three cars he'd just acquired, David felt a familiar surge of anticipation.

Eager to unravel the mystery behind Alexander's sudden interest in Bugattis, he stepped out of the Valkyrie, the late afternoon sun glinting off its metallic finish. Today promised to be interesting, and with Alexander Blackwell, it always was.

David stepped out of his Aston Martin Valkyrie, the sleek vehicle catching the fading sunlight as it idled quietly at the Blackwell dock. The car, a rare masterpiece of engineering and design, seemed almost modest compared to the aura of its owner. He was immediately greeted by Alexander's security team, who moved to conduct a standard search.

Before they could proceed, Everlyn stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. "Let him through," she said firmly. "Mr. Morgan, I apologize for that. He's new."

David's lips quirked into a playful smile. "Mr. Morgan. I like the sound of that." His tone was flirtatious, his gaze lingering on Everlyn, who remained stoic.

"Right this way," she said, her voice as neutral as ever.

David turned his attention to Alexander, who was leaning casually against one of the newly delivered cars. "Hey, David," Alexander said in his usual calm tone. "Weren't you supposed to be in a meeting?"

David grinned, his energy a sharp contrast to Alexander's reserved demeanor. "My cold, calculating friend finally falls in love with luxury cars, and you expect me to stay away? Of course I'm here to guide you." He strolled past Everlyn, who watched him with an unchanging expression, and began inspecting the lineup of vehicles.

He stopped in front of the Centodieci, his eyes lighting up. "Is that the Centodieci?" he asked, circling the car with appreciation. "I wanted to get one of these, but a friend of mine snatched up the last one in Europe. I did hear one was in New York, but then I saw this beauty," he said, gesturing toward his Aston Martin parked nearby, "and lost interest."

David leaned back, appraising the cars again. "These are nice, Alex. What's wrong with them? They're perfectly modified."

Alexander's gaze shifted slightly. "The bodywork—Mansory, isn't it? I'll probably have them work on mine." He glanced at Everlyn. "I'm also thinking of hiring a luxury curator."

David froze mid-step, turning to Alexander with mock incredulity. "Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Alexander Blackwell, hiring a luxury curator? Considering Mansory?"

Alexander remained silent, his expression unreadable as always. David smirked and clapped his hands together. "Hold up. There's this auction I'm attending later today. Since you're finally ready to stop living like a prude, you should come with me."

"Okay," Alexander said simply.

David's jaw dropped. "Wait, what? Are you actually coming along? For real?"

Alexander nodded, his lack of hesitation leaving David momentarily stunned. Recovering quickly, David's eyes sparkled with mischief. "This is unreal. Hold on… Catherine's in town today. I could invite her, and we could all go—just like old times!"

He pulled out his phone, a gleaming device encased in custom gold and onyx and scrolled through his contacts. "The gang is back together!" he declared dramatically as he hit dial. The excitement in his voice carried across the dock, earning a faint smile from Everlyn and a raised brow from Alexander as David waited for Catherine to pick up.