Chapter 391 - 249: The Stage is Set, the Cast is in Place
"You stay here and reflect on the stupid thing you’ve done," Timothy chided in a low voice. Charles’s face instantly turned bright red. He hung his head in humiliation and stepped aside.
THUD—CLICK.
The heavy, soundproof door slammed shut, completely separating the hallway and the conference room into two different worlds.
Li Wei, holding a glass of ice water, found a comfortable armchair and sat down. Not far away, Amanda was idly scrolling through her phone, while Charles was like a furious caged beast, pacing back and forth at the other end of the hallway, periodically glaring at Li Wei with eyes full of hostility and jealousy.
He would occasionally walk to the conference room door and press his ear against it, trying to hear what they were saying. Then, after a few seconds, he would walk away in frustration.
"What the hell are they talking about..." he muttered, angrily cursing something under his breath.
Li Wei couldn’t be bothered to pay any mind to the impotent rage of a sore loser.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to make out what was being said in the conference room.
However, the sturdily built Mellon Manor, worthy of its system designation as [King’s Palace], had a conference room with an extremely high level of physical soundproofing. Even with Li Wei’s current hearing, he could only pick up an extremely faint, indecipherable low-frequency hum.
Fortunately, Li Wei had a cheat.
With a thought, the [Chattering Court Jester’s Skull] silently slid out of his inventory.
The moment it appeared, the skull, its eye sockets shimmering with the light of rubies, began to flit and fly around Li Wei.
[Wow, a King’s palace. I haven’t been to this place in a long, long time.]
[When was the last time I was here... 1000 years ago? 2000 years ago?]
[What was I like back then? Hmm, I can’t even remember what I looked like. Now I’m just a skull, ahahahaha!]
’Enough nonsense,’ Li Wei commanded it. ’Go listen to what those princes and princesses are saying.’
[Oh, my master, you’ve finally discovered my favorite thing—eavesdropping on other people’s secrets, probing the deepest desires of their hearts. This is exactly what a court jester should be doing, isn’t it?]
The [Chattering Court Jester’s Skull] phased through the 20-centimeter-thick oak door as it flew.
The next second, the content of the conversation in the conference room actually appeared in Li Wei’s mind in the form of subtitles.
[Heh heh heh! My great and wise master! Look at these little lions dressed in magnificent silks. They’re circling the old lion’s throne, just itching to carve everything up!]
Li Wei glanced at the impotently furious Charles Mellon and at Amanda, who was occasionally looking toward the conference room. He smiled faintly and began to watch the conversation inside.
Inside the conference room, the atmosphere was now strained to the breaking point.
Timothy Mellon didn’t take one of the side seats. Instead, he deliberately pulled out the main chair at the head of the long table and sat down firmly.
This action made Beatrice and Alister, who had just sat down, both frown in unison.
"Alright, there are no outsiders now," Timothy said, folding his hands on the table. "Can someone tell me what Father’s real condition is? That old fossil Harrison won’t say a word."
The conference room was silent for two seconds.
"You’re the eldest son, Timothy," Beatrice said mockingly, leaning back in her chair and tapping her fingers on the table. "I thought Father would have told you and you alone. Turns out you’re just as in the dark as the rest of us?"
"Don’t use that tone with me, Beatrice." Timothy’s expression darkened slightly.
"Trying to get anything out of Harrison is a fool’s errand," Alister said, propping his feet on the conference table and idly picking his nails. "Those old retainers are all fiercely loyal to Father, one more than the next. I already asked Silvia (appeared in Chapter 208), and she didn’t say anything either."
Timothy Mellon nodded, took a deep breath, and looked around the room. "Since none of us know for sure, we must prepare for the worst."
"Let me be clear," he said, pausing for a moment. "I also hope Father remains in good health, but—"
"But if he really doesn’t make it," he said, "the vacuum in the Foundation and the family will need to be filled. We need a smooth succession plan."
"Oh, Fack," Beatrice sighed. "Timothy, are you serious? On Christmas Eve? Discussing this on the day the family is supposed to get together?"
"It’s time, Beatrice," Timothy said, spreading his hands in frustration. "We need to reach a conclusion, don’t we? To be prepared."
"Well..." Alister raised his hand. "I nominate myself as the heir, to inherit the chairmanship of the entire Andrew W. Mellon Foundation!"
"Don’t be ridiculous, Alister," Timothy Mellon sneered. "What can you do besides doing drugs and chasing women?"
"I may not have gone to Harvard like you, but I know plenty of things," Alister said with a grin. "For example, ’fuck you’." As he spoke, he gave Timothy the middle finger.
"If we’re really going to discuss who takes over," Beatrice said, "don’t you think Harrison, Silvia, and the others won’t be convinced?"
Harrison is the director of the Specialized Surgical Hospital, and Silvia is the Foundation’s chief legal counsel. They have been Alexander’s retainers since Timothy and the others were very young.
"That’s why I need your support," Timothy said. "That’s the purpose of this meeting."
"Wow, the fox’s tail is showing," Alister whistled. "What are you so afraid of? That the will says to donate the Foundation to the local animal shelter?"
"Alister!" A vein throbbed on Timothy’s forehead as he suppressed his rage. "I’m thinking about the future of the entire family! The entire Foundation has assets of over 50 billion USD, with more than 2 billion in disposable funds annually. It involves controlling stakes and board seats in hundreds of companies and universities worldwide! If Father can no longer perform his duties, what happens if other members of the Mellon Family covet this position?"
That sentence struck a chord with Alister and Beatrice.
If Alexander really didn’t make it and hadn’t named a successor, what would become of them if the position of chairman of the Foundation’s board was snatched away by someone from the main branch? Would they just be hired hands employed by their relatives?
But simply supporting Timothy Mellon’s rise to power wasn’t something Alister and Beatrice wanted to see either.
At a critical juncture like this, even with their closest blood relatives, they couldn’t afford to yield a single step.
"Alister’s words may be crude, but they are true," Beatrice Mellon said slowly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Big Brother, your son just caused such a massive disaster. Your reputation on the board is in the gutter right now. You want to lead the transition? Do you think old-timers like Silvia will ever submit to you?"
As she spoke, she shot a satisfied glance at Elizabeth.
Contacting Li Wei and leaking information about Charlie to him—this was what Beatrice had wanted to achieve.
Timothy was attacked from both sides. A line from Alister, a line from Beatrice—each word was like a slap across his face, making him so angry he could spit fire.
He knew that simply pulling rank as the big brother was useless at this point. He had to offer some real bargaining chips.
"Listen, if Father really doesn’t pull through, our vampire cousins from the main branch—the finance guys—will absolutely treat us the same way Richard treated the Greendale family, making a 1 billion USD profit off them. They’ll chew us up, swallow us whole, and then force us to eat what they shit out."
Timothy Mellon unconsciously lowered his voice and stood up. "Support me in a collective vote at the board meeting. I’m your own brother. I will guarantee that your interests are maximized."
As long as things looked good on the surface, and they collectively vote to support Timothy Mellon as the primary heir, everything would be negotiable.
As relatives, they each had one vote. If the vote ended in a stalemate, it would be trouble. The main financial branch would definitely send someone.
He stared intently at Beatrice and Alister, waiting for their response.