People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

Is there anything you don't understand?

Of course he does, and there are many things he doesn't understand!

Timothy stood there and questioned:

"Why?" He struggled to control his anger, trying to prevent the demons within him from escaping. "You promised me! You said that once Richard's matter was resolved, you would gradually hand over control of the foundation to me, allowing me to take over! Why are you, at 80 years old, still clinging to power like this?!"

After he finished asking the question, he saw that Alexander's face was expressionless, as if he had punched the air.

This made him feel even more like he had a fishbone stuck in his throat.

"And another thing! Elizabeth is just a little girl who's not even 20 yet, and you've given her 20% of the shares and an independent board seat. Now she has voting rights just like us! And she's become the most influential person in the entire family!"

Despite Timothy's hysterical outburst, Alexander's expression remained completely unchanged.

"Do you want to know why?" he said, emphasizing each word, "because you are not only weak, but also foolish and impatient."

"I told you about Richard's 10 billion bridging loan a long time ago, but you didn't take it seriously. You thought the profit from 10 billion was too low and asked Charlie to share the pie. Putting aside whether Richard would feel disrespected, I was already very dissatisfied when I told you and then asked Charlie to do it."

Alexander walked quickly to Timothy, speaking one sentence at a time: "And what's even more foolish is that Charlie messed things up, getting himself implicated in all the messes he'd done before, which gave Liz the opportunity to seize the chance."

He smiled slightly and said, "But this has also made me realize that although Liz is still a little girl, she has more guts than you and Charlie combined. Sometimes it's just a game of who has more guts. If you lose, you will be punished. It's that simple."

Upon hearing his father say that he and his son were not as courageous as his niece, Timothy's chest heaved violently with rage, his fists clenched tightly, and his anger brought him to the brink of madness.

Alexander looked at Timothy, who was trembling all over, and glanced down at his clenched fists. Instead of backing down, he took another step forward.

Their noses almost touched.

"Want to hit me?" Alexander raised his chin slightly, bringing his deeply lined face close to Timothy's fist. "Come on, Timothy, swing your fist."

No matter what, he was still his biological father, and Timothy couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Don't do this... Dad," he avoided Alexander's gaze, "I didn't... I didn't mean that."

Alexander pressed forward relentlessly, while Timothy retreated step by step.

Seeing Timothy's appearance, Alexander's expression changed again.

"You make me feel sorry for you, Timothy," he said, slowly sitting back down at the negotiating table and putting on his reading glasses. "If you don't want to stay here to nurse and have me lull you to sleep, then get out."

Timothy didn't know how he got out of that conference room.

His legs felt like they were filled with lead, and each step required tremendous effort.

He was like a soulless zombie, stiff and numb as he walked through the long corridor of the manor.

Along the way, servants carrying trays bowed respectfully to him, but his unfocused pupils couldn't even focus on anyone.

All that remained in his ears and in his mind was his father's last words, "Get out of here," a words filled with mockery and utter contempt.

Back in his room, Timothy pushed open the door and stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

He looked up at himself in the huge mirror.

At 54 years old, his temples were graying, and deep wrinkles had crept into the corners of his eyes.

There's no such thing as a 54-year-old still being a crown prince.

He suddenly swung his fist and smashed it into the mirror, instantly creating spiderweb-like cracks on the huge surface.

As if to vent all his resentment towards his father, he began to haphazardly sweep everything on the sink—expensive razors, crystal mouthwash cups, toiletries—offering themselves to the floor.

After the frenzied smashing and looting lasted for a full five minutes, Timothy gradually recovered, knelt down again, and picked up all the broken pieces and debris, putting them away neatly. He felt this was one of the most painful Christmases he had ever experienced.

The joys and sorrows of people are not connected.

In stark contrast to the anger and despair in Timothy's room, Elizabeth's heart was now ablaze with fireworks in a sunroom at Long Island Estate.

She had never been so happy.

Before today, all that this manor left her with was oppression, fear, and endless scheming.

But today, she not only acquired 20% of Freeport's shares, but also took over the seat and voting rights that symbolized the core of power from her father.

At this moment, she was holding a cup of hot tea, completely devoid of her usual composed and strong businesswoman persona. Instead, she was gesturing excitedly to her father, Phoenix, who was sitting opposite her, just like a lively girl in her early twenties.

"Dad, you really should have gone to see it in person!" Elizabeth's eyes shone brightly, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "The wind was so strong! Grandfather tried to discourage him on purpose, but Levi didn't even blink, just picked up his gun and fired two shots, 'bang, bang,' and ten flying saucers were reduced to dust! Grandfather's expression at that moment was priceless!"

Phoenix, holding a cup of red tea, leaned back in his wicker chair, quietly watching his daughter's animated expression.

He couldn't remember the last time the two of them had laughed so heartily.

"That certainly sounds like an amazing performance," he smiled gently, put down his teacup, and glanced at his watch. "However, now that things have settled here, I should probably get ready to leave."

"Are you going back to England so soon?" Elizabeth's eyes dimmed slightly. "I'll see you off."

She paused, then said, "Dad, why don't you move back to New York? We now hold the most shares—"

“No, Liz, money doesn’t matter to me,” Phoenix said. “I’m leaving New York because I don’t like anything here. This world of fame and fortune has never been right for me. Even though we’ve won now, the air here still suffocates me.”

"I've gotten used to going back to the English countryside, being with my antiques, and studying the evolution and history of a word," he shrugged. "You know, being a naturalist and antique collector who doesn't have to talk to living people is pretty good for me too."

A hint of reluctance flashed in Elizabeth's eyes, but she knew her father's personality and did not insist.

Phoenix looked at her daughter, who was now wearing exquisite makeup and seemed to be glowing, and recalled what Levi had said yesterday. Suddenly, a strong sense of guilt welled up in her heart.

"Liz... I'm sorry, I was really selfish before," he said softly. "I only cared about escaping from here, and I didn't fulfill my responsibilities as a father. I didn't take care of your feelings when you were little, and I made you face so much injustice..."

Hearing these words, Elizabeth felt a slight pang of sadness, then took a deep breath and suppressed the tears welling up in her eyes.

She smiled.

"Dad, what happened in the past can't be undone," she said. "The pain is real, and I will never forget those memories, nor can I ignore the impact those words have had on my personality. But I choose to make peace."

"Now I have the ability to protect myself, and I don't need to care about what others say about me anymore," she hugged Phoenix, who seemed relieved. "Go live the life you want, I'll be fine here."

Phoenix's eyes reddened slightly, and he nodded with relief.

He was about to say something when his gaze suddenly pierced through the glass of the sunroom and fell upon Levi, who was talking to Dr. Harrison on the porch in the distance.

"Although I don't like anyone in this estate, I have a strangely much better impression of Levi," he said gently. "He's a very capable and interesting young man. I wish you all the best, Dad."

Elizabeth was stunned for half a second, then a surge of heat rushed to her head.

"Dad, what are you saying!" She stood up abruptly, "He's not my boyfriend, his girlfriend is my best friend."

"At least not yet..." she sighed and sat down.

"Just pursue what you want. After all, if you don't get it when you're young," Phoenix chuckled, picking up his tweed coat and joking as he walked away, "you'll regret it when you're older."

He stepped outside, turned up his collar, and got into the car heading to the helipad.

What he just said wasn't just a casual joke.

As a father, he knew all too well the feeling of lifelong regret for retreating and hesitating. He chose to escape this manor full of scheming back then, which preserved his freedom but also cost him the chance to be there for his daughter as she grew up.

Now, she has sharp claws and teeth, indestructible armor, and everything.

He encouraged Liz to pursue it, saying that even if she lost, it would only be a short-term pain.

Hopefully, Liz thinks the same way...

?

Inside the sunroom, the blush on Elizabeth's face gradually faded, replaced by an unprecedented deep contemplation.

Her gaze returned to Levi, who was exchanging golf swing techniques with Dr. Harrison.

Now, even just seeing Li Wei makes her smile, as if seeing him instantly lifts her spirits.

But is that enough, Elizabeth Mellon?

She asked herself silently.

Her father's words, "You'll regret it when you get older," struck a chord with her fears.

Was she destined to remain forever a hypocritical "good friend" and "best friend," silently standing beside Li Wei and Anya?

In the past, she had concerns and feelings of inferiority.

Anya is Sergei's only daughter. For her, tens of millions of dollars are just numbers, but for Elizabeth, it was a trust that would normally take 10 years to receive.

All she could do was act as an intermediary for Li Wei, introducing him to various people. But her surname was just her surname; she couldn't make these people think more highly of Li Wei because of her, or directly help him.

But things are different now!

She now owns 20% of Freeport in Delaware and has taken over her father's independent seat and voting rights. In this reshuffle, she has now become the person with the most influence besides her grandfather Alexander.

That's at least on the surface for now.

Why should Anya get to have Li Wei all to herself? She was the one who knew Li Wei the first time!

Now she has no intention of giving in.

Once the freeport is operating smoothly and has stabilized, she will return to the world of fame and fortune in New York with a completely new identity, and she will take the initiative to launch her offensive.

Just as Elizabeth was sketching out plans for the future in her mind, a commotion outside the sunroom interrupted her thoughts.

Looking out the window, one could see the heavy gate of the manor being violently pushed open.

Timothy Mellon angrily strode out the door, haphazardly pulling at his coat, followed by Charlie Mellon, who had been silent for the past two days.

He had no followers and did not say goodbye to anyone.

He yanked open a Cadillac sedan parked on the side of the driveway and jumped inside.

The transfer of power is always accompanied by the ignominious exit of the losers.

Of the 20% she had, at least 19% was taken from Timothy.

"Miss Elizabeth." Chief Legal Counsel Sylvia stood outside the door holding a thick stack of documents.

Sylvia's attitude towards Elizabeth wasn't exactly bad, but it wasn't exactly warm either.

But at this moment, Sylvia lowered her head slightly when she looked at Elizabeth.

Strange, Elizabeth didn't grow any taller.

"Sylvia, come in." Elizabeth nodded.

Sylvia walked to where Phoenix had been standing and laid out the documents one by one.

"This is the confirmation of the transfer of trust assets, as well as the entrustment agreement for the operation of the Elizabeth Foundation and the Brooklyn Museum under your name," Sylvia handed over a pen. "As instructed by Mr. Alexander, the day-to-day administration of these properties will be entirely entrusted to the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation for operation."

Elizabeth took the pen, quickly scanned the core terms, confirmed that everything was correct, and then signed her name on the document.

"What stage has the free port reached? Now you can tell us," Elizabeth put down her pen, picked up her tea and took a sip. "Grandfather's expression doesn't seem like a whim."

"You guessed right. In fact, Mr. Alexander started planning several years ago. The physical buildings and security system of the free port have been basically completed, and the legal license for the duty-free zone has been fully secured," Sylvia pushed up her glasses. "It is expected that after Christmas, the first batch of European duty-free art, antiques and offshore assets worth about 30 billion US dollars will be secretly delivered and stored. And these are only the first batch of goods that have already been finalized."

As she spoke, she pulled out a financial statement from the documents and handed it to Elizabeth: "According to the current statement, as the second largest shareholder with a 20% stake, you are expected to receive approximately $40 million in net cash flow in January."

"Subsequent profit sharing will be settled every three months. Conservatively estimated, your total net personal dividends in the first year will reach US$1.2 million. Furthermore, this money will perfectly avoid all tax audits."

"And this is only the first year," Sylvia paused, "If things go according to our plan, by the fifth year of this freeport's operation, our capital will be close to and exceed the wealth managed by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, and our annual net profit will exceed $2 billion."

Elizabeth nodded slightly. Apart from the 5% fixed return she had to give to Richard, her net profit in the first year would exceed $7000 million.

Compared to before, it's a truly earth-shattering change.

This is $7000 million in cash every year, and that's after tax. She doesn't even need the family committee's approval to spend it; it's all her own money.

Moreover, if, as Sylvia says, the net profit exceeds $20 billion, then by the time she graduates from university, her annual cash dividends alone will exceed $4 million.

My grandfather's ambition was truly great, but the returns were also truly high.

"If you have no objections," Sylvia said, pulling out another stack of documents, "these are the things you need to do next..."