American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

"What proposal?" Elizabeth eagerly asked.

"As you know, the Johnson Group is in the business of medical consumer products, and we have a dedicated special fund for youth sports and health," Woody Johnson said. "This fund could be placed under your foundation’s name, and we could tackle this project together."

"But," he said, looking at Elizabeth, whose face had instantly lit up with joy, "I have one condition."

He looked at Li Wei. "How about we make Mr. Li Wei our promotional ambassador?"

"Me?" Li Wei smiled. "This involves me?"

"This will benefit you as well," Woody Johnson said. "It’s good for a sports star to build a more approachable public image. In my opinion, why don’t we invest this money into a donation program for football equipment for New York’s public schools? What do you think?"

After careful consideration, Li Wei figured there was no downside for him in this, so he reached a tentative verbal agreement with Woody Johnson, planning to discuss it further with Don Quixote later.

Elizabeth was naturally more than willing. She was dazed by this sudden, heaven-sent joy.

This was the Johnson Family, tying themselves directly to the foundation under her name.

With an endorsement from a heavyweight figure like Woody Johnson, her network and social circle would probably rise to a whole new level.

’The Skull and Bones Society? Who cares about that now?’ She was now interacting with people on the level of the fathers and grandfathers of Skull and Bones members.

But when she calmed down a moment later, she looked again at Li Wei, and then at Woody Johnson, who only had eyes for Li Wei. She instantly understood that Woody Johnson had been after Li Wei all along; she was just a favor the Johnson Group was extending to Li Wei.

The feeling was both shameful and reassuring. She never imagined that one day she would have to rely on Li Wei’s clout to gain standing. For someone whose father had been marginalized and stripped of power within the family since her childhood, this was a truly new and comforting experience.

When she was very young, her father’s work shooting documentaries led to her being marginalized. Despite his fame and success in the outside world, within the family, she had no one to rely on.

She subconsciously leaned back slightly, trying to get a little closer to Li Wei.

Li Wei seemed to exude an aura that was both reassuring and commanding, making her subconsciously want to throw herself into his flame like a moth.

Brad left the party early.

The moment he stepped outside, he called Charles Mellon:

"There’s a problem, Charlie," he said. "Your cousin, Elizabeth, seems to have connected with Woody Johnson."

There were a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line, then Charles Mellon said calmly, "Understood. Thank you for your trouble."

"Of course. It was nothing," Brad said. "I called you as soon as I left. Is there anything else you need help with?"

"No, that’s all," Charles Mellon said with a slight laugh. "You can leave if you have other things to do."

After hanging up, Charles Mellon was lost in thought.

He was currently in a top-tier private club in Midtown Manhattan.

The emblem of the Yale University Skull and Bones Society hung on the wall of the private room. Seated on the heavy, distressed leather sofas were the core members of this year’s Skull and Bones Society, along with a few former members who were already making a name for themselves on Wall Street.

Cigar smoke curled under the dim yellow lights. The once lively social atmosphere gradually quieted down due to the two full minutes of silence that followed Charlie’s phone call.

"What’s wrong, Charlie?" A former Skull and Bones member sitting across from him, now a VP at Goldman Sachs, keenly sensed that something was off. He swirled the Macallan whisky in his hand. "Did you get some inside information? Is Wall Street going to have a circuit breaker trip tomorrow?"

At his words, everyone seated around them broke into laughter.

"It’s about my cousin, Elizabeth Mellon," Charles Mellon said, tossing his phone onto the table. "Didn’t we just reject her from the Skull and Bones Society? I thought she’d pester us for a while, but I didn’t expect that in just two weeks, she’d somehow get connected with Woody Johnson."

The laughter died.

Everyone present was sharp; they knew all too well what kind of weight the name "Johnson Family" carried in the United States of America.

Even if it wasn’t as prominent a name as Mellon, Rockefeller, or Du Pont, it was still an insurmountable mountain for the average wealthy person.

Moreover, Elizabeth hadn’t connected with a second-generation member of the Johnson Family, or even a third or fourth-generation one like them. She had gone straight to the Sect Leader of the Johnson Family.

Where did she get those connections?

"Charlie, don’t worry. The Johnson Family can’t interfere in the Mellon Family’s internal affairs."

"Yeah, Charlie, that old fox wouldn’t do something like that."

However, beneath the high-sounding words of reassurance, everyone’s grip on their glass tightened, and their exchange of glances became more frequent.

’As soon as tonight’s gathering is over, I have to go over Charlie’s head and find an excuse to message or call Elizabeth privately. Whether it’s to congratulate her on getting the Johnson sponsorship or to discuss academics, it doesn’t matter. The point is to mend my relationship with her before anyone else does.’

The second half of the party became dull and tasteless. Everyone had their own ulterior motives, so after a few cursory toasts, they made their excuses and dispersed.

With a grim expression, Charles Mellon walked out of the club and settled into the back seat of his Maybach. Before he could tell the driver to go, his private cell phone rang.

The caller ID showed it was his father, Timothy Mellon.

He pressed a button on the armrest, raising the soundproof partition between the front and back seats.

"Father."

"Are you done with your drinks?" As Alexander Mellon’s eldest son, Timothy Mellon’s tone of voice was virtually identical to his father’s.

And that was the truth of it. Timothy Mellon had always aimed to be Alexander Mellon’s successor and had been striving for that goal his entire life.

Although the art and charity side of the business was only a part of the Mellon Family’s portfolio, its scale and influence were already valued at over tens of billions of USD.

"I’m done, Father," Charles Mellon said quickly. "By the way, about Liz—"

"I already know about her," Timothy Mellon’s tone remained unchanged. "If you still want to get the full one billion USD in funding from Richard to inject into your Manhattan Art Center, you need to hurry up."

"I understand."

"No, you don’t. The new president has been in office for almost a year," Timothy continued. "Elizabeth is a young woman, a natural fit for the current diversity and political correctness narrative on Wall Street. If she also gets a medical charity endorsement from the Johnson Family, she’ll be bulletproof on the ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) front. Her foundation’s small size is not an issue at all; she could save us a massive amount in PR expenses."

"If Richard sees that Elizabeth’s slate is cleaner than yours, he will absolutely not hesitate to give the entire one billion USD to her foundation. When that happens, she’ll have far more say in front of your grandfather than you do," he continued. "Don’t you know your grandfather? A classic tyrant, where ability is everything."

"Understood, Father," Charles Mellon took a deep breath. "I’ll find someone on Wall Street to launch an investigation into her foundation, and I’ll have the Internal Revenue Service and the SEC conduct a tax audit on her to drag things out for the next two months."

"Good," Timothy Mellon said. "Do that."

The call ended.

Only then did Charles Mellon’s body go limp as he sank into the back seat of the Maybach. He waved a hand, signaling the driver to go.

The black Maybach glided smoothly through the neon lights of Manhattan. Charlie took a few deep breaths and quickly composed himself.

He picked up his phone, thought for a moment, and dialed an encrypted number for his aide, Adam.

Adam was not only his roommate from his Ivy League days, but also his "white glove" for handling affairs outside the family.

"Charlie?" The call was answered quickly.

"The plan has changed, Adam. It’s about Elizabeth," Charlie said. "I need her foundation to be too busy to breathe for the next two months. Whether it’s a tip to the Internal Revenue Service or getting the Financial Crimes Enforcement Bureau to give her some trouble, I want a letter from a federal auditor on her art gallery’s desk by the end of this month. As long as she’s under investigation, Richard will never give her the money, for the sake of financial security."

"That won’t work," Adam immediately rejected the idea after listening. "The standard process is too slow, especially for someone with that particular surname. Even pulling strings would take at least three months, not to mention the risk of your family office taking notice. If they investigate you, you’ll be in trouble."

"You’re right, you’re right," Charles Mellon muttered to himself. "I can’t do it that way. The family office would find out."

After all, this was an internal matter for their branch of the family, the Alexander Mellon line. If a scandal about internal family strife really broke out, his entire immediate family would be skinned alive, from top to bottom.

"Do you have a suitable person in mind?"

"There is one," Adam mused for a moment. "A senior partner at JPMorgan Chase, Julian. He’s also a Yale graduate, and he plays dirty. We can have him use anti-money laundering as a pretext to submit a high-priority suspicious activity report on her cash flow. While it won’t stop her completely in the end, it should keep her overwhelmed for the next few months."

"Excellent. Have him take the lead on this," Charles Mellon said. "Liz is very close with that girl, Anna. Anna’s father is that Russian oligarch, Sergey. I heard they have a 50 million USD bridge loan in the works. Let’s use that funding as the pretext."

"Understood. I’ll contact him right away."

「The next morning, in the Manhattan Financial District, in a senior partner’s office at the JPMorgan Chase headquarters.」

Julian sat behind his desk, playing with a Montblanc Meisterstück fountain pen, and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at the people of Wall Street bustling about like ants below.

An hour earlier, a well-known risk advisory consultant named Adam had come to his office.

He had made Julian an offer he couldn’t refuse: a mysterious offshore fund was willing to entrust Julian’s team with a 500 million USD asset management portfolio.

In exchange, Adam asked Julian to use JPMorgan Chase’s clearing network to create some compliance trouble for a fledgling charitable foundation named "Elizabeth Mellon," and to get an incoming 50 million in overseas funds stuck in the anti-money laundering review process for three months.

Julian didn’t know who Adam’s real client was, nor did he care.

On Wall Street, a "white glove" never asks about the identity of the ultimate beneficiary.

"Elizabeth Mellon... Mellon..."

Julian pulled up the foundation’s public registration information on his computer terminal.

"Someone from the Mellon Family. No wonder the opening offer is a 500 million asset management portfolio," he muttered to himself. "Just from the annual management fees on that 500 million, I could pull in tens of millions."

He tapped his fingers on the desk while waiting for Elizabeth’s photo to load.

"Wait, it’s her?"

When the photo finally loaded, Julian’s eyes widened.

Isn’t this the girl who’s been with Li Wei all the time recently? (Chapter 120)

’So that kid Li Wei has hooked up with someone from the Mellon Family?’