A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 304: Side Story, The Marquis (10)

“Y-you...! Are you trying to treat me like some kind of lunatic right now?!”

“Me?”

Gerard pointed to himself with feigned surprise, then continued in a disgustingly gentle tone.

“Uncle, you clearly proposed this idea last week. You told me to make sure to invite the First Lady to the gala so we could understand the new administration’s stance on social commerce. That’s why I reached out to President-elect Trenton’s team on your behalf, isn’t it?”

“I—I never said anything like that!”

“Then why did you invite the President-elect’s family? What specific instructions did you give me that led us to welcome these distinguished guests to tonight’s gala…?”

“T-that’s…!”

He had no idea. He hadn’t even known the First Lady was coming, so how could he possibly know what excuse Gerard had used to bring them here?

“Please, just tell us what you remember, Uncle.”

Gerard’s deceitful gaze briefly flicked toward the First Lady before returning to him. To anyone watching, it would look as though a devoted nephew were genuinely worried about his uncle’s failing health.

But for Desmond, who knew exactly what lay behind that mask, rage boiled up inside.

‘Ha Si-heon… ever since he started hanging around that bastard…!’

A certain East Asian man’s innocent face flashed through his mind—his finger pointing mockingly at his own cheek, saying, “Me?”

‘There’s… only one choice.’

Desmond ground his teeth inwardly. Of course, he could reveal the truth right here and now. He could confess that he had no idea the President-elect’s family would attend, that Gerard had gone behind everyone’s back to invite them, and that—when the President-elect family appeared—he panicked and lied, pretending it had all been his own plan.

But doing that…

It would be no different from crushing his own honor into the dirt and digging his own grave. Social suicide—or senile old man. Would he rather be despised as a liar, or pitied as someone suffering from dementia?

Desmond made his choice.

“…I… don’t seem to remember…”

***

The gala was a tremendous success.

‘At least the reaction to the idea pitch wasn’t bad.’

In place of his “forgetful uncle,” Gerard personally pitched the idea of “molecular-gastronomy-based social commerce” to the First Lady. Her response had been quite favorable.

“It’s not a bad idea. If we can revitalize the domestic market through social commerce instead of relying on global expansion by big tech, that would be ideal. I’ll bring it up.”

If the President himself took kindly to the proposal, several favorable policies would surely follow. That alone was a major victory.

‘The succession announcement went smoothly, too.’

Gerard even went up on stage to deliver the New Year’s address on behalf of the Marquis. Of course, his uncles had tried desperately to stop him.

“Uncle, you told me last week to speak in your stead. Don’t you remember?”

One line—just one line—and everything fell neatly into place. With the two brothers who held actual power in the Marquis Council suddenly regarded as senile old men, there was little they could do.

Thus, before an audience that included the First Lady herself, Gerard publicly declared the Marquis’s future vision and direction.

‘This carries enormous significance.’

When someone of the First Lady’s stature attends an event, everything gains weight and symbolism. It meant that, in front of political and business elites, Gerard had been officially recognized as the rightful successor. As a result, his position as heir became unshakable.

Gerard had now become the Marquis’s official successor, someone no one could easily ignore.

Of course, Desmond didn’t take it lying down. After the gala, he immediately confronted Gerard about his scheming.

“You! You deliberately invited the President-elect’s family behind our backs and plotted this whole thing, didn’t you?!”

He accused Gerard of using the President’s family to set them up. But Gerard already had the perfect excuse prepared.

“I wanted to inform you ahead of time, Uncle… but the security protocol made it impossible.”

“Security protocol?”

“It was a directive from the Secret Service.”

The Secret Service—the agency responsible for the protection and safety of the President and his family. Indeed, it was standard procedure that the First Lady’s and the First Family’s schedules were kept strictly confidential. Any leak, however small, could make them targets for terrorism or other threats. The Secret Service reacted with extreme sensitivity to even the tiniest breach.

Whenever an incident occurred, internal regulations tightened, and all information related to upcoming events was completely sealed off. This time was no exception.

“Not long ago, someone at the Marquis Foundation accidentally leaked a large batch of invitations, remember? Because of that, the security measures became stricter. A special directive was issued to share nothing beforehand except with the individuals directly involved. There was nothing I could do.”

Desmond’s mouth fell open. After all, the one responsible for that invitation mishap—was Desmond himself. Yet he kept pressing, stubborn as ever.

“That’s not all! You turned your superiors into senile fools to ruin their credibility! You think I’ll let that slide?!”

But Gerard had an answer ready for that, too.

“Me? I never once said my uncle was suffering from dementia.”

“You said my memory was failing—!”

“No, Uncle. You said that yourself.”

In fact, Desmond had been the first to mention his “poor memory.” Gerard had never uttered the word dementia even once.

“On the contrary, I helped you, Uncle. Do you not even remember that part?”

“……”

“That’s disappointing, truly.”

Desmond was dumbfounded, speechless. He faltered for a moment before grasping at another point.

“But the part where you claimed I supported social commerce—that’s clearly a lie, isn’t it?!”

That part, at least, was true. However—

“Is that so? I distinctly recall you saying exactly that… unless my own memory’s failing, too.”

Gerard shrugged lightly. Then, with a devilish smirk, he added, “Maybe it runs in the family?”

“But either way, Uncle, it can’t be helped now. We can’t exactly retract a promise we made in front of the First Lady herself, can we?”

“Y-you…!”

Desmond eventually shouted in fury, but it changed nothing. Of course, even afterward, he continued to confront Gerard whenever he found the chance, venting his anger without restraint. He even threatened to bring the matter before the Family Council, insisting that an unscrupulous and immoral CEO like Gerard ought to be removed from his position.

But Gerard wasn’t worried in the least. Because this headline came out soon after:

<The White House Entrusts Interior Design to Rising Artists>

<First Lady: “We must open the doors of opportunity for young creators…”>

The First Lady herself had become a client of Rachel’s <Art Nest>, announcing publicly that part of the White House décor would be furnished with pieces from artists discovered through Rachel’s platform.

Of course, the First Lady had her own political motives for doing so. It was a strategic move to justify cutting art-related budgets under the banner of “market-driven solutions.” Still, the fact remained—the First Lady and the White House were now officially Marquis Foundation clients. It was an enormous triumph that elevated the Foundation’s prestige to a new height.

In the face of such a visible success, the Family Council had no reason to punish Gerard or expel him just because he had handled things a little aggressively.

Meanwhile—

“The sign-up rate... it’s insane!”

Rachel’s <Art Nest> exploded in popularity overnight. Thanks to the title “The Platform Chosen by the White House,” major corporations rushed to propose partnerships. Regular membership sign-ups skyrocketed beyond comparison, crashing the servers several times.

Naturally so. What kind of publicity could possibly beat “The White House commissions its décor here”?

Gerard watched the numbers climb with a satisfied smile.

“See? I told you I’d handle it. We didn’t need him to make this happen.”

“This is incredible! I didn’t expect the effect to be this huge…” Rachel’s voice trembled with awe.

Then Gerard casually asked, “By the way… does he know about this?”

“Who? Sean?”

Gerard suddenly felt curious. How would Ha Si-heon react when he heard this news? He didn’t even fully understand why himself—but Gerard wanted Ha Si-heon to know. Not just that the project had succeeded, but how he had pulled it off, the strategy and precision behind it.

He wanted him to see.

So he asked the question with subtle anticipation, but Rachel only smiled softly and shrugged.

“I’m not sure… maybe he’s heard?”

“Maybe?”

“Well, I haven’t met him yet either. He’s been traveling abroad for work…”

Gerard remembered all the times he had scolded Rachel for insisting she had to meet Sean to give him “some gift or something.” And after all that fuss, she still hadn’t seen him.

“I see… that’s… convenient.”

That’s what he said aloud, though a strange feeling of disappointment lingered in his chest. Then, suddenly, Gerard lifted his head.

“Wait—hold on. Did you just say… abroad?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He went… overseas?”

Something about it sent an uneasy twinge through his gut. Ha Si-heon and “overseas” in the same sentence usually didn’t mean good news. It usually meant disaster.

Sure, Ha Si-heon had caused more than his fair share of chaos in America—but abroad?

The Greek debt crisis. The Chinese yuan war. The Brexit prediction…

In the U.S., his antics caused frenzy. Overseas, they changed history. And the terrifying part—those were incidents he’d orchestrated remotely while based in America. Now he’d actually traveled abroad in person? 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

‘What on earth is he planning this time…?’

Gerard could feel it in his gut. Something massive—something catastrophic—was about to happen.

“Whatever you do, stay away from him! He’s going to cause trouble again!”

And his instincts were right. A few weeks later, Ha Si-heon’s name once again dominated global headlines.

***