I Inherited Trillions, Now What?

The helicopter descended gracefully onto the private helipad nestled on Blackwell Island. The rotors churned the air in a rhythmic hum as the landing gears touched the ground. Alexander Blackwell stepped out first, his imposing figure silhouetted against the twilight sky. His guards followed, their sharp eyes scanning the perimeter, though the island was an impenetrable fortress. Standing by the helipad was Sebastian, the ever-dutiful butler, his tailored suit immaculate as always.

"Welcome back, sir," Sebastian said with a slight bow.

Alexander nodded curtly in acknowledgment, his face unreadable as usual. Together, they strode toward the sprawling mansion that loomed ahead—a masterpiece of modern architecture encased in glass and steel, perched regally at the edge of the island. Inside, the faint glow of recessed lighting and the scent of polished wood greeted them.

As they walked through the grand hall, Sebastian ventured, "Were you able to secure what you wanted, sir?"

Alexander's lips curved in a faint, satisfied smirk. "Yes. Contact Park Palace Garage. I want the cars sent there. It wouldn't make sense to keep them here on the island."

Sebastian nodded, pulling out a sleek notebook to jot down the instructions. "Understood, sir. Shall I arrange a space as large as the one your father had?"

Alexander paused mid-step, considering the suggestion. "Larger. I'll be adding more soon."

"Very good, sir," Sebastian said, turning to leave. Just as he stepped away, he hesitated, then turned back with an almost imperceptible crease of concern on his brow.

"Sir, while you were out, Miss Beaumont came to the island."

Alexander froze, his hand lingering on the railing of the sweeping staircase. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of distant machinery. His expression darkened slightly, though his voice remained even.

"I know where she'd be," he said, cutting Sebastian off before he could elaborate.

Without another word, Alexander turned and walked deeper into the mansion, his strides purposeful. He bypassed several corridors and entered the innermost section of the home, a secluded area that few ever saw. At the very back of the property was a room that seemed almost untouched by time. The walls were adorned with exquisite paintings, the kind that told stories with every brushstroke. The air was thick with nostalgia.

Standing with her back to him was a woman draped in a flowing black gown. The fabric hugged her figure elegantly, its shimmer catching the soft light of the room. Her golden-blonde hair cascaded in perfect waves down her back, a stark contrast to the deep hue of her attire. She stood still, as though lost in thought, gazing at one of the paintings.

Alexander walked closer, his presence commanding yet silent. "He gave it all to my mom, you know. Guess you won't be able to see it next time you come."

The woman turned, revealing a face of striking beauty. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled with intelligence and intrigue, framed by high cheekbones and lips that carried a natural smile even in moments of tension.

"I'm sure Elisabeth wouldn't mind me coming over to her place to view it," she replied, her voice smooth, tinged with amusement.

Her smile softened. "How are you, Alex?" Concern flickered in her gaze, betraying her otherwise composed demeanor.

"I'm good. You know me," he replied, his voice steady but distant.

"Yes, I do know you. That's why I know you're not good," she said, stepping closer. "Your father was your rock."

Alexander's eyes seemed to look past her, focusing on a point far beyond the room. "Yeah."

"Why did you come here, Susan?" he asked, his tone suddenly sharper. "You made it pretty clear you didn't want to see me last time."

She hesitated for a moment before replying, her voice steady. "I came to check on our daughter. And to pay my respects."

Alexander hummed noncommittally, his expression unreadable. "About our daughter," Susan continued, "I know she's grieving now, but she needs to go back to her boarding school. The second term has just started; she shouldn't miss classes."

"I'll talk to the school principal. She should be going next week," Alexander replied curtly.

Susan's lips pressed into a thin line. "Does she still need to go to boarding school? She could come stay with me and attend classes in my neighborhood."

Alexander's gaze snapped to hers, cold and unyielding. "You don't have the right to say where she goes. You gave up that right long ago when you signed her away."

The tension in the room thickened, the air charged with unspoken words. Before either could escalate further, a knock at the door interrupted them.

"Who is it?" Alexander demanded.

"It's Sebastian, sir," came the reply. "I think it's important."

Alexander sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come in."

Sebastian stepped inside, his expression unusually grave. "Sir, you might want to see this."

He led them into a nearby lounge where a large television screen displayed a live news broadcast. The image on the screen made Alexander's jaw tighten.

His sister stood behind a podium, addressing a cluster of reporters. Her polished appearance was offset by the intensity in her voice.

"My father left the entirety of the company to my younger brother, Alexander Blackwell. I am suing to challenge the legality of the will, as it is biased, unfair, and thus unlawful. I call for a fair distribution of the estate."

The camera panned slightly, revealing a man standing behind her, his face partially obscured. Alexander's eyes narrowed as recognition dawned. The man's features were familiar, though his presence raised more questions than answers.

Alexander's expression darkened further, his gaze fixed on the screen as though willing it to provide more clarity. The room fell silent, the weight of the situation settling over everyone present.