I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

Paul Brown, a man in his late fifties, was the epitome of success and ambition. As the team leader of Blackwell Investments, he earned a staggering $3.5 million annually. Having joined the company back in the days when Cassius Blackwell was at the helm, Paul was a veteran whose dedication to his career was unwavering. He was known as a man who would do anything for his work, a fact he had proven two years ago.

At the time, Paul had been posted from Los Angeles to Spain. His wife, unwilling to leave the city she loved and the job she cherished, refused to move. Their children, equally resistant, were not prepared to leave their school and friends behind. Faced with a choice between family and work, Paul chose the latter. His decision resulted in the end of his marriage and the loss of custody of his kids—a painful but necessary sacrifice, in his eyes, to climb to the top of his career ladder.

Now, two days ago, Paul had received a call from Everlyn Hawthorne, the "Devil's Hand" herself, Blackwell Investments' most fearsome and influential figure giving that no one truly meets the boss himself. She informed him that he had been selected to represent the firm on NVIDIA's board of directors— serving as the representative at one of the companies the company holds shares a prestigious position that marked the pinnacle of success within the company.

But the position wasn't a given. Paul had to earn it, and today was the day he'd prove he deserved that seat.

Dressed sharply, Paul entered NVIDIA's headquarters alongside two top-tier lawyers from Harrison, York, and Lancaster, the legal firm Blackwell Investments had retained to facilitate his transition. The trio exuded authority, their presence commanding attention as they stepped into the building.

Paul approached the receptionist, a composed woman seated behind the front desk. In a deep, commanding voice, he said, "Hello, could you kindly direct me to the conference room?"

The receptionist looked up, momentarily startled by the intensity radiating from the three men. She managed a polite smile and asked, "Good morning. May I ask if you have an appointment?"

"Yes, we do," Paul replied. "We're the Blackwell representative team here for a meeting with the board."

Hearing the name "Blackwell," the receptionist's demeanor shifted slightly. Blackwell Investments had been a hot topic within NVIDIA recently, and she was aware of the significance of their visit. She checked her system and said, "Ah, yes. The CEO is expecting you in his office."

Paul frowned. "Pardon me, but I was under the impression we'd be meeting the board members, not the CEO."

The receptionist hesitated before replying, "I understand, sir, but the instructions indicate that you should be brought to Mr. Huang's office first."

Paul exchanged a glance with the lawyers, Jonathan and Adam, before nodding. "Very well. Let's proceed."

The trio was led to Jensen Huang's office, a sleek, modern space that was intimidatingly bare. Huang's desk lacked chairs for visitors, forcing them to remain standing—an obvious power play.

Paul stepped forward. "Good morning, Mr. Huang. I'm Paul Brown, the Blackwell representative chosen to serve as a board member. I look forward to a productive collaboration."

Huang's sharp gaze moved from Paul to the two men flanking him. "And these are?" he asked curtly.

"These are Jonathan and Adam," Paul explained. "Lawyers sent by Blackwell Investments to assist with the legalities of my transition."

Huang leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, you're here to meet the board members?"

"Yes," Paul said, his tone calm but firm. "will we be heading to the boardroom shortly?"

Huang's smirk turned into a sneer. "The nerve of you people."

Paul frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said, the nerve of you people," Huang repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. "You walk in here as if you own the place, making demands. Your arrogance is astounding. Let me make this clear: there is no meeting, no position, no anything. Thank you for your time, but you can leave now."

The lawyers exchanged glances before Adam spoke up. "Mr. Huang, Blackwell Investments holds a 6% stake in NVIDIA. According to federal financial regulations, including SEC guidelines, this stake entitles them to representation on the board of directors."

Huang's smirk returned. "Ah, reading from the rulebook, are we? Let me educate you. NVIDIA is a publicly traded company, not Blackwell's backyard playground. Owning shares doesn't guarantee a board seat. As CEO, I have the discretion to reject candidates who don't align with the company's values and vision. So, I'll repeat myself—there's nothing for you here. Leave."

Paul's jaw tightened. "Mr. Huang, I'd advise against this course of action. This doesn't have to escalate further."

Huang's voice was icy. "Listen here, Mr. Brown. I built NVIDIA with my own two hands. This company is my legacy, and I won't let outsiders waltz in and dictate terms. Now, as I said—leave."

Paul held Huang's gaze for a long moment before turning to the lawyers. "Let's go."

As he exited the office, Paul looked back at Huang, who was typing away at his computer. Their eyes met briefly, and Paul said, "I hope you don't come to regret this decision."

Huang didn't respond, only gesturing dismissively.

Outside in the parking lot, Paul and the lawyers regrouped. Jonathan, the quieter lawyer, finally spoke. "He's right. As long as he's CEO, he has the authority to reject us. We can't force our way in."

Paul clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. "There's one option left," he said, his voice heavy with resolve. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

He pulled out his phone, his mind racing. Jensen's dismissal replayed in his head, fueling his anger. He had sacrificed everything—his wife, his kids, his entire life—for this career. And now, after all he had endured, to be dismissed so callously? Paul was livid.

The phone connected. On the other end was Everlyn Hawthorne, the Devil's Hand herself. Paul, a man who rarely feared anyone, hesitated for only a moment before speaking. "Miss Everlyn, we have a little problem."