I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

As the tension in the air thickened, the standoff between Alexander and Nathaniel Rockefeller seemed endless. Both men were immovable forces—Nathaniel with his entrenched old-money superiority and Alexander with his calm, almost detached power. The luxury cars parked around them gleamed under the dim city lights, a testament to their wealth and influence.

Just as the silence stretched on, the tension was broken by the arrival of a man in a fine manager-type suit. His attire was a masterclass in subtle wealth: a tailored, deep navy suit that whispered of taste rather than flaunting it. He approached with a calmness that immediately commanded attention.

"Gentlemen, please," he said, extending a hand toward the grand entrance of Hudson Heights. "The auction will be starting shortly. We invite you to come inside."

Nathaniel's lips curled into a thin smile. "Isn't this an invitation-only event?" he asked, gesturing sharply at Alexander. "How does he get to enter?"

David let out a loud laugh, as if the question were absurd. "Dude, are you serious? How many people in there have as much money as him? Do you really expect them to turn away a Blackwell from entering?"

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed, his tone turning cold. "It's not about the money. We all know that," he sneered. "They just earned their wealth. They have no right to be here. Maybe in another ten generations, if they can even hold onto it."

Alexander remained silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering. Then, he spoke with a quiet confidence that carried a weight beyond his words. "I don't think that's something to brag about, Nathaniel. You've had generations to increase your fortune. For a 'new' family to come in, surpass most of you in wealth in such a short time—it says a lot about your legacy."

Nathaniel scoffed, saying nothing as he turned and walked away with his entourage. As he passed Alexander, he leaned in, muttering just loud enough for him to hear, "Money isn't power. Remember that."

With a quiet smile, Alexander watched him go. David, amused, gave him a tap on the arm. "That guy never changes, does he?"

Before they could step inside, another vehicle rolled up—a Mercedes-Maybach Exelero, worth over $8 million. The security parted, and out stepped none other than Catherine Vanderbilt, draped in luxury. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, and her piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd with quiet authority.

David grinned and opened his arms, but Catherine swiftly blocked his hug with a raised hand, opting instead to walk straight to Alexander. She pulled him into a warm embrace, concern in her voice as she pulled back slightly to look him over.

"How are you? How are you holding up?" she asked, her gaze softening as she studied his face, sensing the undercurrent of tension and grief. "Is everything all right?"

David cleared his throat loudly, a playful smirk on his lips. "You do know I'm your fiancé, right? Not him."

Catherine met his eyes with a knowing, almost playful look, her voice calm but firm. "First of all, we're not engaged—at least not yet." She turned back to Alexander. "And secondly… did your dad just die?"

Realizing her words might have been too blunt, she quickly covered her mouth in regret. "I'm sorry for being insensitive."

Alexander's smile was kind, though his eyes remained steady. "It's fine. You guys don't really change, do you?"

David laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Let's head inside."

The manager, who had been waiting patiently, gestured toward the door, ushering them into the building.

Inside Hudson Heights, the auction venue was nothing short of breathtaking. The vast, open space exuded luxury in every corner. The lighting was soft but warm, casting golden hues on the marble floors. Expensive, plush seating surrounded a central stage that seemed to float above them, bathed in light. The walls were adorned with sculptures and paintings from some of the most renowned artists of the past and present, each piece more valuable than the last.

No more than fifteen guests were present, all dressed in the finest clothes. An Arab family stood near the entrance, their attire immaculate, while a group of businessmen in custom-tailored suits sat together, chatting amongst themselves. In the corner, a sleek, well-dressed man quietly observed the room, his presence commanding, but not as obviously as others. The air hummed with an undercurrent of power—silent but palpable.

David, noticing the luxury surrounding them, leaned in to speak to Catherine, but she seemed too focused on the auction to pay him much attention. "What do you mean we aren't engaged yet?" David persisted. "You took my ring, and I kept my promise. I started working with my dad and all."

Catherine, however, remained unbothered by his protest. "It's not just about working, David. We agreed to succeed our families. I've made massive strides toward my goal. By this time next year, the Vanderbilt ships will be sailing all over European waters. The pearl my family has been chasing for decades…"

Alexander leaned back in his seat, his mind turning. "The Vanderbilts have gotten European channels. That's going to be a game-changer," he remarked, considering the business opportunities.

David leaned in with a frown, frustration simmering under his usual charm. "I'm not like you guys. You, Catherine, are the firstborn. Alexander, you're the first son. You both have it easier. Meanwhile, I'm the second child, the second son. My brother will most likely inherit the family business."

Catherine, though, was unfazed. "I'm the only girl, with three younger brothers who all feel a lady shouldn't inherit the business. I'm lucky my dad values merit more, and I work harder than everyone else."

Alexander's voice was calm as he added, "The Morgan family inheritance has never been about age. Show your dad that you're more capable, and that's what matters." He paused before a sly grin crossed his face. "And for that, I think I have the perfect idea for you."

David's eyes widened with curiosity. "What's that? I'd like to know."

Before he could respond further, the room dimmed slightly, signaling the start of the auction. Catherine looked at him, an apologetic smile on her lips. "We can continue this conversation later. The auction is starting."

David threw his hands up in mock defeat. "Fine, but I'm not leaving until you tell me!"

As the lights focused on the stage, a stunning, blonde woman appeared. Her elegance and beauty drew the attention of almost every person in the room. But across the room, Alexander's sharp eyes were locked on Rockefeller, who had settled into a seat, watching the proceedings with a calculated air. Alexander's mind raced, his thoughts already calculating his next move.

The auction had begun.