American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

"I wish..."

Timothy swallowed hard, his eyes quickly scanning his siblings.

Phoenix Mellon sat across from him, as expressionless as a statue, focused on his steak.

Alister kept his head down, not daring to speak, his head almost buried under the table.

Beatrice, on the other hand, picked up a glass of red wine from their family’s own vineyard and began to carefully study its color.

"I wish for your health, Father," Timothy said, steeling himself. "What I want most is for you to be healthy forever!"

As he spoke, he raised his wine glass—

CRASH!

Suddenly! Alexander swept the dinner plate in front of him onto the floor!

The silverware clattered to the ground. The steak, with only a single bite taken, was swept to the floor along with the plate beneath it. Red wine stained the white tablecloth.

Alister let out a whimper, completely deflated, and shrank back in his seat.

The retainers and key members of the board of directors either looked away or hung their heads low.

Beatrice jumped in fright, her knife and fork falling onto her plate with a CLANG.

"Lies!!"

Alexander let out a roar, his voice tens of thousands of times louder and more terrifying than Timothy’s, making the crystal chandelier on the ceiling buzz.

Li Wei suddenly began to understand why Elizabeth unconsciously radiated fear whenever she mentioned her grandfather. The Alexander Mellon before him wasn’t so much a father as he was an absolute tyrant.

Timothy’s face had turned waxy white.

He slowly reached for his wine glass, only to discover it was empty when he raised it to his lips.

He carefully placed the glass back on the table, but his hand trembled uncontrollably, and the glass wobbled on the tabletop.

"No, Father," he forced an ingratiating smile. "I swear, I wasn’t lying..."

"Are you contradicting me?!"

Alexander’s voice rose again, completely overpowering Timothy’s.

Timothy flinched, gripping the arms of his chair tightly, not daring to talk back.

"Beatrice," Alexander said.

Beatrice immediately sat up straight. "Father."

"Tell me, did your older brother lie?" Alexander asked. "Is he a bad boy?"

Normally, even when facing the state governor, Beatrice carried herself with an air of superiority.

But in front of Alexander, she could only brace herself and swallow with difficulty. "Yes, Father. He lied."

Alexander suddenly turned his head to look at Alister on the other side.

"Alister, my youngest son," he said. "What do you think?"

"Ah... I..."

Alister opened his mouth but couldn’t form a complete sentence.

Alexander breathed heavily and snapped his fingers, summoning a nearby servant to clear the mess on his table.

After everything was cleaned up, he looked around and suddenly spoke.

"It seems we’ve reached a consensus," he said, staring at his eldest son. "Santa Claus doesn’t bring presents to bad boys."

"Have the manservant responsible for pouring the wine leave," he ordered.

The servants in the dining room, as if granted a general amnesty, quickly exited the hall with their heads bowed.

Alexander pointed to the decanter in the center of the table.

"Timothy, stand up," he said. "Take off your suit jacket. Since you love taking care of your younger siblings so much, as the eldest brother, why don’t you stand behind them tonight and serve them dinner."

Timothy was stunned.

He was the eldest brother! The firstborn son! The most powerful and wealthy person present, aside from Alexander.

Moreover, his own son was sitting right here!

"Father..." His voice held a hint of pleading. "There are guests here..."

"Do you want me to repeat myself?" Alexander stared into his eyes. "Or would you rather I empty your trust by tomorrow and send you off somewhere to ’gain some experience’?"

Timothy pressed his lips together, took off his suit jacket, and stood up. He walked to where the manservant had just been standing, picked up the decanter, and moved behind Beatrice.

He bent down slightly and poured the red liquid into her glass.

Beatrice didn’t even dare to look back at him.

Li Wei, who had been silently observing all of this, suddenly felt the plate in front of him vibrating slightly.

He turned his head and saw Elizabeth’s hand gripping the tablecloth tightly, her whole body trembling.

Li Wei reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand. It felt like holding a block of ice.

Elizabeth gave Li Wei a grateful look, took a deep breath, and held onto his hand tightly, refusing to let go.

Li Wei took a long, hard look at Alexander.

The tyrant’s attention wasn’t on them at all. Instead, he was watching with great interest as Timothy poured wine for Alister, who had curled up like a hedgehog.

Li Wei looked at Timothy Mellon, who was gripping the decanter so tightly he looked like he wanted to shatter it. ’This isn’t over yet,’ he suddenly thought.

The dinner ended in this bizarre and strange atmosphere.

After everyone had finished eating, Alexander wiped his mouth and casually tossed his napkin onto the table.

"Now," he said, "I have an announcement to make."

"After long deliberation by the foundation’s core team, I have decided to launch a new top-secret project in Delaware—’Free Port’," Alexander said unhurriedly. "This will be our family’s fortress of wealth for the next twenty years. It will allow our funds to escape the scrutiny of the main branch and become the core of our branch’s wealth."

He paused, his voice like a rolling boulder crashing down on every family member’s shoulders. "This project is extremely large, and we cannot use the foundation’s resources. Therefore, I will use the trusts and all resources under your names to make this project happen."