Chapter 204: Don’t You Have Your Own Children?
Brandon Jennings had long heard that Arabella Donovan’s so-called distant grand-uncle doted on her, but he’d never really taken it to heart.
’For powerful people like them, profit is paramount and feelings always come second,’ he thought. ’Besides, any supposed family connection between Arabella and him is a stretch, to say the least. Their blood ties are practically nonexistent.’
Their relationship seemed more like business partners than family.
But today, he suddenly wasn’t so sure. A billion yuan... a sum of cash so large you could bury a person in it.
He had given her so much money without a second thought, all because his "little cousin" said she liked something and wanted it.
’If that isn’t doting, what is? He’s spoiling her to the high heavens!’
"This is what my parents and I just managed to scrape together. It’s only thirty million, but I’ve already sent it to your account. Don’t forget to check."
Brandon Jennings rubbed his nose, feeling a little awkward.
Compared to Arabella Donovan’s two-billion-yuan goal, thirty million was just a drop in the bucket.
"Thank you, Brandon!" Arabella Donovan had a good idea of what her cousin was thinking, so her gratitude was genuine.
She remembered her aunt mentioning during a dinner at the Jennings’ home that Brandon had invested almost all of his savings into his joint venture with Quincy Ulrich, and those funds weren’t liquid right now.
’This thirty million is probably all the liquid cash their family has on hand,’ she thought. ’They might have even had to borrow some of it.’
’Once I get through tonight, I have to return the money immediately!’
Seeing Brandon Jennings make his offer, the Kerr mother and son quickly followed suit. "Miss Anson, please don’t forget about us. You did say you were going to borrow money from us before we entered."
"If you’re willing to help, that would be wonderful, of course."
"I’ve already had my people confirm our available funds. Barring any issues, we should have no problem providing one hundred million."
Even though House of Aethel Jade was a massive enterprise, corporate market value and personal assets were two entirely different things.
The fact that the two of them could pull together a hundred million on such short notice was a clear testament to their sincerity.
Now that both parties had made their offers, Caspian Rhodes stopped teasing Arabella Donovan and held out his hand. "Your bank account number."
"Right here!"
"I’ll have someone transfer five hundred million."
Arabella Donovan’s eyes lit up, and she looked at Caspian Rhodes as if he were a glittering, golden savior.
’That’s Mr. Rhodes for you! So kind and helpful, and he never fails you when it counts!’
Brandon Jennings was speechless. ’This guy definitely, definitely, *definitely* has ulterior motives toward my cousin. Who in their right mind just lends someone five hundred million yuan? He must be insane!’
With help from Caspian Rhodes and the others, the issue of the auction funds was mostly resolved, but she was still short three to four hundred million.
Arabella Donovan did a quick calculation of the money she had left and decided to hit up her family in the group chat.
"Eldest Brother, Eldest Brother, lend me some money."
"Second Brother, Second Brother, lend me some money."
"Third Brother, Third Brother, lend me... oh, never mind. I’d be happy if *you* didn’t try to borrow money from *me*."
"Fourth Sister, Fourth Sister, lend me some money."
Aurora Donovan: "???" What is that supposed to mean? Are you dissing the global limited-edition cars in Third Brother’s garage?
"Mom, Dad, can I get an advance on my allowance? How much? The more the better! You can advance it to me a hundred years from now; I’ll do my best to live that long."
Brandon Jennings and the others, who had been sitting by and listening to Arabella’s entire fundraising campaign, were speechless. ’His cousin (Miss Donovan) really isn’t afraid of getting a scolding from her family when she gets home!’
Arabella Donovan thought she was just asking her immediate family for a loan, but she had no idea that the moment she sent her messages, news of her cash-flow problem had already exploded in the extended family’s group chat.
"My dearest Serena is short on cash? Eldest Brother, not to overstep, but I really have to call you out on this. How could you let Serena be out and about without enough money? You and your wife are not fulfilling your parental duties! Hurry up and post my darling’s account number." This came from the famously wealthy Miss Lillian, one of her grand-aunts.
"Lillian’s right. A child can lack for anything when they’re away from home, but never money. So, what’s the account number?" This was from her fifth aunt, who was still looking for a way to express her gratitude after Arabella had recently solved a major problem for her family.
"It’s so rare for the little lady to ask for money, she must be in a real bind. This can’t wait! Hurry up and post the account number. Do we have to beg you for it? Are you trying to give us all a heart attack?" This was from her impatient fourth aunt.
The immediate Donovan family members didn’t even have a chance to reply before the chat started scrolling with message after message, all demanding the account number. An outsider would have mistaken it for a charity telethon.
But that wasn’t all. Every person who demanded the account number also seized the opportunity to take a jab at them, accusing them of being incompetent parents and siblings.
The members of the Donovan family, who had been unfairly slandered all evening, could only think, ’...’ ’If it weren’t for this, we would’ve never known so many people were secretly trying to poach our kid. This is absurd! Don’t you all have your own children to dote on?’
Arabella Donovan, oblivious to the chaotic interlude in her family’s group chat, turned her attention back to the auction on stage after sending her messages.
The bundled auction of the Norwall Barrens hadn’t completely scared off the major corporations determined to win the lakeside property in the Southward District. Within minutes, the bidding had already soared from the starting one hundred million to four or five hundred million.
In this apex arena of fame and fortune, money seemed to lose all meaning, becoming just a number to be casually thrown around.
As Brandon Jennings watched these people call out staggering sums without so much as blinking, he felt how limited his own worldview had been.
He and Quincy Ulrich had attended their fair share of private receptions for courting investors and networking with tycoons. But compared to that superficial decadence, this scene—where people were literally throwing money around like it was paper—was far more visceral and nerve-wracking, especially now that he was caught in the vortex himself.
Arabella Donovan made her move just as Victor Donovan bid five hundred million.
"Five hundred and ten million."
Arabella Donovan’s sudden entry drew sideways glances from many in the room. Most of the guests had already wisely backed out after realizing that the remaining bidders were all representatives of a few major family conglomerates.
For one, their own funds were paltry compared to these deeply-entrenched families, so there was no point in embarrassing themselves. For another, it was a chance to curry a little favor—or at the very least, avoid causing offense.
This made the three Donovan men—the father and his sons—who were still in the running, stick out like sore thumbs, looking like tall poppies just waiting to be cut down.
But before those tall poppies could be dealt with, Arabella Donovan had just shot up beside them.
Timothy Donovan had the strongest reaction, nearly leaping to his feet to yell at her.
In his eyes, Arabella’s bid was nothing more than retaliation for him intentionally driving up the price earlier.
What infuriated him, even more, was the unshakeable confidence in her voice as she called out the price, as if she truly had that kind of money. The thought made his face twist with jealousy, and his heart burned with such acrid resentment he could have spat fire.