75: Chapter 75 This is just interest

The private tarmac at Teterboro Airport was shrouded in gray mist.

This was New York.

Compared to the dampness of Washington, which carried a political mustiness, the air here was mixed with the smells of exhaust, cheap perfume, and the scorched scent of burning banknotes, making it feel more—intimate.

The wheels of the Gulfstream G650 touched down, emitting a slight friction sound.

Chen Mo opened his eyes.

The funds figure on the system panel had stopped jumping, that string of zeros so long it was dazzling.

Two hundred and fourteen million U.S. dollars.

This was just the profit from shorting airline and travel stocks.

It didn't even count the "technology transfer fee" that the shell company, Atlas Medical, sold to the Rockefeller Family.

The cabin door opened, and a cold wind mixed with drizzle rushed into his face.

A stretched black lincoln was already parked at the end of the red carpet.

A woman stood by the car door.

Ava Rockefeller was wearing a beige Burberry trench coat, her hair pinned up meticulously. The black umbrella in her hand was not opened, letting the drizzle soak her expensive high heels.

She looked thinner than the last time they had a video call, her cheekbones more prominent. In those eyes that had originally held a touch of arrogance, there was now only deep exhaustion and... fear.

"Welcome home."

Ava watched the man walk down the gangway.

Chen Mo was wearing that black overcoat he had stripped off a dead man, carrying the briefcase that never left his side.

Behind him followed that old man who always kept a straight face.

This man had just directed a chaotic event in Washington worthy of being recorded in history, leading to the tragic death of a senator, hundreds of infections, and the grounding of America's entire aviation industry.

And now, he was like a tourist who had just gone to Florida for a vacation, without even a shred of guilt or unease on his face.

Only calmness.

The kind of calmness one has when watching ants move house.

"You are three minutes late, Ava." Chen Mo walked up to her, without hugging or shaking hands, just lowered his head to glance at his watch.

Ava's body stiffened for a moment.

"The board... dragged on for a while." Her voice trembled slightly.

"Regarding the acquisition of Atlas Medical, a few uncles are still arguing. They think the valuation of two hundred million U.S. dollars is too high."

"Is it high?"

Chen Mo smiled and stepped toward the lincoln.

A bodyguard wanted to step forward to help him open the car door, but was glared back by Old George.

"Get in the car and talk."

The car's interior was filled with the smell of expensive leather.

Chen Mo sat in the main seat, pulled out a neatly folded A4 sheet of paper from his briefcase, and handed it to Ava.

"What is this?" Ava took the paper and took a look by the light of the reading lamp.

The next second, her pupils contracted violently.

It was a list.

Not a hit list, but a list of Rockefeller Family board members who opposed this acquisition.

After each name, a specific number and date were noted.

For example: "Robert Rockefeller, once embezzled twenty million U.S. dollars from the family trust fund in 2013 to cover his gambling debts in Macau."

"Susan Rockefeller, has long funded a radical environmental organization, which just attacked a chemical plant owned by the family last month."

These were all fatal pieces of dirt sufficient to ruin their reputations and get them expelled from the family's inner circle.

"You... how did you get this?" Ava's knuckles holding the paper turned white.

"Senator Gore had a good habit of keeping a diary."

Chen Mo leaned back against the chair. He was lying. This information was actually tracked down by Jack Martin using big data algorithms, combined with the clues in Gore's brain.

But in Ava's eyes, this became ironclad proof of Chen Mo's omniscience.

"With this, is the valuation of two hundred million U.S. dollars still high?" Chen Mo asked.

"No... it's not high anymore." Ava swallowed hard, "They will sign. They will tonight."

"Very good."

Chen Mo took out a check from his chest pocket.

This was something he had prepared long ago.

He placed the check gently on Ava's trembling knees.

Ava looked down.

Ten million U.S. dollars.

"This is your dividend." Chen Mo's voice was very soft, as if coaxing a frightened child.

"You did very well, Ava. Your performance in front of the media was perfect. Now all of America regards you as the savior of the family who turned the tide at the critical moment."

Ava looked at the check.

This money was not an astronomical figure for her, but its significance was too heavy.

This was "hush money," and also an "initiation fee."

Accepting it meant she was no longer a person of the Rockefeller Family; she was a nail planted by "Legacy" in this vast empire.

"I... I don't want the money." Ava raised her head, her eyes red, "I just want to survive, not to be thrown on the roadside like Gore..."

"Shh."

Chen Mo extended a finger, pressing it to his lips.

"Don't mention that name, it's unlucky."

He leaned down, those bottomless black eyes staring straight at Ava.

"Take it, go buy some beautiful clothes, go get a spa treatment, or go to Havana for a vacation. This is what you deserve."

Ava's hand trembled, but in the end, she picked up the check.

The paper was very light, yet it burned like a branding iron.

"This is just the interest."

Chen Mo leaned back into the chair, his gaze shifting outside the car window.

The rain had gotten heavier.

The lights of Manhattan blurred in the rain into a bizarre ocean of neon.

There were the world's top banks, the greediest capital, and the most corrupt souls.

It was also his best hunting ground.

"Next," Chen Mo watched the streetscape receding outside the window, "we are going to take back the principal."

The car drove into the lincoln Tunnel, swallowed up in the alternation of endless darkness and light.