Chapter 395 - 252: I Object

Chapter 395: Chapter 252: I Object

In a flash, Elizabeth realized they were being a little too intimate.

Her ears turned red. She snatched her hand back as if she’d been shocked, bolting up from the sofa and flusteredly smoothing her hair.

"I... I’m going to the meeting now."

With that, she practically fled the guest room, slamming the door shut behind her with a loud BANG.

Li Wei watched the door, a thoughtful expression on his face. He was about to say something when his phone rang. It was a video call from Anya, so he turned to answer it.

Outside, Elizabeth leaned against the door, taking deep breaths and pressing the back of her hand to her cooling cheeks.

’I will see you crowned queen...’

Just as her racing heart began to settle and she was about to head toward the cigar room, a furtive figure darted past the corner at the end of the hall.

Although she only saw him from behind, she recognized him instantly. It was her uncle, Alister.

’Strange.’

’Alister and Amanda went back to his room, which is in the opposite direction. Who was he here to see in the guest wing?’

But it was almost time for the meeting. She avoided the direction Alister had gone, walked down the long corridor, and entered the cigar room.

Inside the cigar room, Timothy Mellon had undone the top buttons of his shirt. His expression was thunderous.

Alister was sunk deep into a huge leather sofa, a half-finished glass of whiskey in his hand.

Beatrice stood by the window, watching the blizzard rage outside, a lit cigarette held between her slender fingers.

Her father sat alone in a corner, lost in thought.

Elizabeth walked over and sat beside him. She then noticed Charles Mellon huddled in the darkest corner of the room, trying to make himself invisible, not saying a word.

When Timothy saw Elizabeth enter, he looked up and asked, "Did anyone follow you?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

Timothy nodded. He proceeded to cut the tip off a cigar for himself. After lighting it, he flicked his hand, sending up a puff of smoke.

"Father has gone completely insane, did you all see that?" he began. "He treated me like a common servant, and in front of an outsider and that whore, no less!"

Alister suddenly let out a derisive snort.

"What are you laughing at!" Timothy roared. "You just cowered over there like a pussy, not daring to say a damn thing!"

"Oh, fuck off," Alister shot back. "Beatrice is the one who said you were lying. If you’re pissed, don’t take it out on me!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Beatrice took a drag from her cigarette and shot them a look of annoyance. "Leave me out of it. You know what Dad’s like. If I’d dared to say no, I would’ve been up there serving dishes right alongside you."

"So..." Alister said, glancing nervously toward the door every so often. "Do you think Dad knows we’re meeting in here? After that dinner... do you think he’s already figured out we’re discussing the succession behind his back?"

"Whether you were lying or not is irrelevant," Phoenix said, speaking up for once. He gave a cold smirk. "You all know what Dad’s goal is. He just wanted to torture you, Timothy."

"I agree," Beatrice said, glancing at Charlie cowering in the corner. "He deliberately spread that rumor about his poor health just to bait us into showing our hands. Timothy, you were too impatient, and that gave him the perfect excuse to attack. And this might also be his final reckoning for Charlie’s screw-up at the Manhattan Art Center."

Hearing this, Charles Mellon shrank back even further, trying to melt into the shadows.

Too bad he didn’t have Li Wei’s [Vision Obscure (Silver)] skill, or he might have actually succeeded.

"Alright!" Timothy Mellon frowned, defending his son’s pride. "We’re not here tonight to gossip about dinner."

The room fell silent again.

"That damned Free Port project in Delaware... I’ve never even heard of it. Don’t you all understand how dangerous this is?" He took another deep drag of his cigar, his expression hidden by a cloud of smoke. "This is a blatant move to undermine the finance branch!"

He slammed his hands down and growled, his voice low, "Once the main family’s risk management committee finds out we’re involved in this kind of black-box operation, they’ll be furious! And then it won’t just be Father—the trusts, assets, and cash flow of every single one of us in this room will be frozen and seized without a second thought!"

Hearing this, Alister threw his hands up in emphatic agreement and nodded vigorously. "You’re absolutely right, brother. It’s like he’s tying us all together for a suicide pact. Since that’s the case, I have an idea."

All eyes fell on him.

He paused and cleared his throat. "As the eldest brother, the firstborn son, the future heir... I propose that you go to Dad’s room right now, knock on his door, and tell him in no uncertain terms that tomorrow’s meeting is canceled. We’re not doing it!"

Timothy’s hand twitched so violently he almost dropped his cigar.

’Go and provoke Alexander right now? The humiliation of pouring the wine tonight is still fresh in my mind. I wouldn’t dare knock on that door even if you gave me ten times the courage.’

"We have to go through the proper channels," Timothy said with a dry cough, stiffly changing the subject to hide his cowardice. "The vote tomorrow morning is our best chance. Me, Alister, Beatrice, and Phoenix... that’s a solid four votes. Father and Silvia only have two votes between them, at best. As long as we stand united, this insane plan will never pass!"