[Chapter 276: Milking the Miser]
Donald Trump tore off the check and held it with both hands, presenting it to Daniel with the reverence one might reserve for a sacred offering.
"This is ten million dollars. Great Master Cross, this is just a small token of my appreciation. Please, you must accept it. I'll have my private lawyer contact you soon to discuss our deep 'cooperation.'
Whatever you need, the Trump family will satisfy it in every way! Also, I'm reserving a suite for you in this building for life. You can come back and stay here with Ivanka anytime."
Daniel casually took the check, its surface graced by Donald Trump's signature. With a slight flick of his hand, the check vanished.
"Let's go." Daniel turned and stepped into the elevator.
Ivanka followed stiffly behind him.
As the elevator doors slowly closed, she caught a final glimpse of her father -- the Donald Trump -- with his back bowed deeply, as if before a deity.
...
By the time they reached the basement and arrived at the car, Ivanka still hadn't recovered from the shock.
She looked at the man beside her, her throat dry, voice trembling. "You... what exactly did you do to my father?"
Daniel tilted his head, his gaze playful. "As you saw, I just gave him a little 'suggestion.'"
"You call that a suggestion?" Ivanka's tone rose. "With one sentence, you made him not only want to give his daughter away, but also casually sign a ten-million-dollar check. Daniel Cross, do you know what that means? In the New York business world, he's a notorious miser -- a man who never parts with his money!"
Daniel smiled faintly. "Because I gave him something money can't buy. That's the value of knowledge."
Ivanka fell silent.
Her eyes dropped to the bracelet on her wrist -- the Lightning-Struck Wood bracelet Daniel had given her.
Just half an hour ago, she'd been worried her father's power would crush Daniel. Now, in the blink of an eye, her father had become a fanatic, desperate to sell his daughter.
This shattering of her perception sent a wave of both fear and curiosity toward the man at her side.
"So..." Ivanka bit her lip, staring at Daniel with a complicated gaze. "Was everything you said true? Can he really--"
"Who knows what the future holds?" Daniel replied casually, in that offhand way that suggested he already expected the unknown. "What we have to do is seize the moment."
The basement air carried a faint scent of gasoline and rubber.
"Seize the moment."
Daniel's words pushed Ivanka's already fragile rationality to its breaking point.
She looked at him, the shock in her blue eyes fading to reveal a near-frenzied longing and determination.
As a daughter of the Trump family, she'd been raised to jump on the best investment at any cost. And Daniel, right now, was the most perfect investment she'd ever seen.
"Yes. You're right." Ivanka murmured softly -- then suddenly threw herself into Daniel's arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her warm, fragrant lips to his.
Daniel felt the soft heat of her body, the intoxicating closeness.
He stopped holding back.
With a sweep of his large hand, he scooped New York's number-one socialite into a princess carry.
He stepped into the spacious back seat of the Rolls-Royce.
Bang!
The car door slammed shut.
The thick soundproof glass isolated them from the outside world.
...
Meanwhile, in the penthouse...
Donald Trump paced in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, hands clasped behind his back.
His blond hair was slightly tousled under the harsh lights, revealing the restless turmoil within.
"This country... ruling this country..." he muttered repeatedly.
His face flushed with a feverish red, eyes burning with an excitement beyond normal.
Even for a man who had weathered countless storms and wielded immense power, the temptation of 'foreseeing the future' was impossible to resist.
"Knock knock."
A sharp rap broke his trance.
A security supervisor stepped in quickly, looking uncertain.
Without turning, Donald snapped impatiently, "What is it? Didn't I say no one is to disturb me right now?"
The supervisor lowered his head, speaking cautiously, "Mr. Trump, the basement security noticed some... abnormalities. We need to report."
"Abnormalities?" Donald spun around, frowning. "You have to bother me with this? If there's a thief, call the cops. If it's loiterers, kick them out! Nobody handles trash better than me. Do I have to teach you this?"
The supervisor wiped sweat from his forehead, voice dropping lower. "No, sir. It's not loiterers.
That car -- the one Miss Ivanka just entered -- was shaking violently on the surveillance feed. We're worried."
Donald paused, realization dawning.
He strode to the control console, pushing the operator aside. "Patch the footage through."
The big screen flickered.
In a dark corner of the basement, the black Rolls-Royce sat cloaked in shadow. Though the interior was hidden, the violent suspension movement spoke volumes.
The supervisor asked quietly, "Sir, should we send someone to check on Miss Ivanka's safety?"
Donald stared at the screen for ten tense seconds.
Then, abruptly, his face relaxed. A wide, almost ecstatic smile spread across his lips.
"What are you standing there looking at? What's there to see!" he shouted, slamming the table in front of the supervisor.
"Immediately! Right now! Turn off all surveillance here! Delete all the recent footage!"
The supervisor was stunned. "Sir?"
"Do I have to spell it out?" Donald snapped, tone sharper than ever. "Seal off the entrance to that basement level. Say the elevator's broken or there's a leak -- make up any excuse. Within an hour -- no, two hours -- no one is to come within a hundred feet of that car!"
He paused, pride ringing in his voice.
"That's the Great Master 'changing Ivanka's luck.' The most important deal the Trump family will ever make. Anyone who dares disturb them -- I'll throw them off the top floor of this building!"
The supervisor's mouth hung open, as if struck by lightning. Blankly, he stared at Donald, his entire worldview shattered.
"What are you waiting for? Go!" Donald roared.
"Y-yes, sir!" The supervisor scrambled out.
Donald Trump sank back into his enormous executive chair.
He stared at the now-blank surveillance screen.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest as he pulled a premium cigar from his drawer, lit it, and took a deep drag.
"No one knows business better than me," he muttered through the smoke.
"Ivanka, well done. As long as we can hitch this Divine Being to the Trump family's chariot... any price is worth it."
*****
https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.
https://discord.gg/HjHHhUXPn7.