I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 63: Nvidia IV

Back in the present

The conference room was in chaos. Anna Morales, the Blackrock representative, had just made a declaration clearly standing against the Blackwells’ ridiculous proposal to issue more shares. Her eloquent arguments had won over the hearts of CEO Jensen Huang, co-founder Henry Tsai, and other investor representatives like Victor Carter, all of whom sighed in relief. Anna’s rebuttal of the Blackwells’ proposal was seen as a clear sign of rejection.

Yet, a lingering uncertainty remained. Just hours ago, Anna had been critical of the Blackwells but had still voted in their favor so she couldn’t be trusted. The tension in the room had not entirely dissipated.

What happened next proved their fears to be directed at the wrong place.

Gerald Thompson, who had been frowning ever since the proposal was first introduced, broke the silence. "Mrs. Morales," he began, his tone measured and confident, "there’s a straightforward solution to that issue. We could execute a private placement, where the majority, if not all, of the shares are allocated to select private investors—preferably those we can trust. This would not only preserve the integrity of our operations but also ensure the stability of the stock prices while also keeping our strategy of moving forward." His words, calculated and sharp, made it clear that the situation could be resolved with careful, strategic thinking.

David Cartwright, the State Street representative who had been silent since the beginning of the meeting, spoke up, his voice calm but resolute. "I support your proposal, Mr. Thompson," he said, turning to him with a nod. "However, instead of taking on the risk of adding new shareholders—who may not necessarily share our vision for growth—I believe it would be more prudent to allow our existing shareholders to purchase those shares." He paused, a small, almost imperceptible smile forming on his face. "After all, we have already demonstrated our commitment to this company and its best interests."

His words hung in the air, delivered with such assurance that one might have thought he was proposing a simple adjustment to the agenda. Yet, beneath that smile, the reality of what he was suggesting was clear: a move that would likely ruffle some feathers in the room, affecting some others negatively.

The moment the two of them spoke, the entire room fell silent. Jensen, never one to put much stock in loyalty with all that he had seen, but all that changed maybe due to the pressure of a financial behemoth like Blackwell investment breathing down his neck he broke a personal rule of his he had put his trust in a financial man who stood at the top of his business Lord knows how many peoples hopes and dreams he had crushed to maintain his position. the previous him would have felt no surprise at the unfolding scene.

But the sting of betrayal still hit him sharply, like a slap in the face.to see it play out in front of him with such blatant disregard—it was almost too much.

"You bastards," he muttered under his breath, though his voice was quiet, every word carrying through the stillness of the room. His eyes burned with a quiet fury as he scanned the faces of the people around him, who had once again turned the company into a battleground for their own gain. The CEO, usually a figure of control, now stood frozen, seething beneath the surface.

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Jensen turned his gaze to Gerald, his anger barely contained. "You promised to reject their proposal," he said, his tone low but unmistakably laced with contempt. "What is this now?" The question hung in the air, sharp and cutting. He wasn’t shocked—he didn’t expect any different—but it still hit him like a punch.

Gerald’s face remained an impassive mask, a sharp contrast to Jensen’s barely contained fury. "Mr. Jensen, please calm down," he said, his voice cool, almost detached. "I deeply respect you as a person, and as long as you remain the CEO of the company, I’ll ensure your position on the board isn’t threatened." He turned to look at Paul Brown, his eyes narrowing slightly. "As for what you said, we didn’t betray you. We rejected the Blackwells’ earlier proposal to enter the boardroom. This matter we’re discussing now is something none of us expected. Vanguard’s interests—and the interests of this company—must come first, before any personal opinions."

Jensen didn’t want to hear any of Gerald’s justifications. His patience had run dry. "Don’t form any moral high ground here," he snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. "You’re just like the rest of these vultures." He gestured toward David, Anna, Evelyn, and Paul, each one of them sitting there with a look of indifference, as if this was just another day in the shark-infested waters of business.

Jensen’s eyes turned back to Gerald, narrowing with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. "I just feel so bad," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "I thought you had integrity as a man. But this?" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. His face hardened as he pushed his emotions back, stepping away from the conversation.

Taking his seat again, Jensen reminded himself of who he was. He wasn’t just the CEO of a trillion-dollar company; he was a billionaire; he was someone who had almost 30 thousand people under him. He wasn’t going to seem weak in this room of vultures, he wasn’t going to show any more vulnerability, not here, not now. The game had changed, and he wasn’t about to let anyone see him flinch.

Gerald’s cold response broke through the stillness. "Sorry, it’s just business," he said flatly, his eyes steady on Jensen.

Jensen didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The words hung in the air like a dead weight.

While the heated confrontation between Jensen and Gerald unfolded, one person in the room remained silent, her mind racing a mile a minute. Anna Morales, the representative of BlackRock, sat composed on the outside, but internally, her thoughts were chaotic. Shit, we’ve been had, she thought grimly. It was now glaringly obvious—Blackwell had successfully brought Vanguard and State Street to their side.

As Anna’s sharp eyes scanned the room, she took in the faces of the other shareholders. She recognized that look in their eyes, the subtle shift in their expressions. They’re already thinking of jumping ship, she realized. It was clear they believed resistance was futile. Three of the four major investors backing Blackwell created a formidable force, and the others were likely already scheming how to secure a piece of the pie rather than fighting a losing battle.

Normally, Anna would be doing the same—calculating how to use the situation to her advantage. But this time, BlackRock was at a disadvantage. Their liquidity was tied up in their massive global policy shift, leaving them with little to pledge or maneuver. Bluffing might have worked with less seasoned players, but these weren’t amateurs. Everyone in this room likely already knew BlackRock’s financial situation. Any attempt to overplay her hand would be a transparent farce.

Anna’s mind raced for solutions. What’s the move here? she thought. She could try to delay, to stall for time, but even that seemed unlikely to work. The pressure mounting in the room was palpable, and the odds stacked against her. Blackwell had played the game masterfully, and Anna hated the feeling of being outmaneuvered. For now, all she could do was sit tight and weigh her options carefully, knowing that her next move could either salvage BlackRock’s position—or sink it entirely.

Anna Morales’s mind raced, desperate to find a way out of the corner BlackRock had been backed into. Every option she considered seemed fraught with complications, but she wasn’t about to give up. If I could just get some time, maybe a few weeks to a month, she thought, the pieces of a plan forming. That would be enough to inform her bosses and work on turning either Vanguard or State Street against the proposal. Just one of them defecting could shift the entire balance of power. And if that didn’t work, she could escalate. The CEO could arrange a sit-down with the families behind BlackRock to secure emergency funding and counter Blackwell’s moves.

But as Anna’s sharp eyes scanned the room again, her resolve faltered for a moment when they landed on Evelyn Hawthorne. Evelyn’s calm, calculating expression was unnerving. The Blackwells have thought of all this, Anna realized. They wouldn’t leave anything to chance. If they wanted this deal done, they would be determined to finalize it today. Every maneuver she could think of was already accounted for. Still, she couldn’t afford to fold without a fight.

Steeling herself, Anna raised her hand slightly, her voice cutting through the tension. "Excuse me, I have a question to ask," she said, directing her gaze toward Paul Brown, the man who had instigated this entire situation.

Paul turned his attention to her, a hint of a smug grin tugging at his lips. "What would that be?" he replied, his tone smooth but with an unmistakable edge, as if he already anticipated her question.

Anna squared her shoulders, keeping her expression neutral, though her mind churned furiously. This is my shot to buy time. Don’t waste it.

Anna cleared her throat, masking the tension she felt with a composed tone. "Earlier, you mentioned that the dilution of shareholders’ shares would serve as a form of justification to the government," she began, her gaze fixed on Paul Brown. "But the plan outlined by Mr. Thompson suggests an increase in the shares of shareholders instead. Wouldn’t that break valuations and potentially raise legal red flags?"

Paul’s infuriating grin spread across his face—a grin that had started to grate on everyone in the room. "Yes, we did say that," he replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "But what I said wasn’t false. Some shareholders in this room will have their shares diluted, and we can use that to justify the plan to the government." His eyes flicked toward CEO Jensen as he spoke, almost daring him to react. Jensen, however, sat still, his expression unreadable, betraying no emotion.

Paul turned his attention back to Anna, his grin still firmly in place. "As for the others, we’ll categorize it under the rule of stability for share prices and market conditions. Everything will be legal and above board," he added smugly, as if he were presenting an airtight solution.

Anna clenched her jaw, suppressing her frustration. Not yet. Keep pushing. "Well," she said, her voice steady despite the rising tension, "given the complexities of the codes and the potential for misinterpretation, I suggest we take a few days—maybe even a couple of weeks—to review everything thoroughly. It’s crucial to ensure this plan doesn’t inadvertently cause trouble with the SEC."

Her words hung in the air, a calculated last-ditch effort to delay the vote and buy the time she so desperately needed. Every second counted, and she was determined to wring as much out of this moment as possible.

But even Anna’s desperate attempt was swiftly shut down.

"As I said earlier, this matter is time-sensitive," Paul responded coolly, his tone brooking no further argument. "We need approval today to proceed with the acquisition of those companies." His words landed like a hammer, crushing any hope of delaying the vote.

The meeting moved forward, shifting to a series of questions from the minor shareholders. They directed their inquiries toward Paul, focusing mostly on the viability and legality of the share issuance. Paul fielded them with the same smug confidence, weaving a narrative that satisfied just enough of their doubts to keep the momentum on his side.

After what felt like an eternity, William Draper, who had been tasked with presiding over the meeting, cleared his throat and addressed the room. "Alright, then," he announced, his voice carrying a note of finality. "Let’s put it to a vote—the matter of issuing 10.25 billion units of new outstanding shares, worth approximately $504.53 billion."

As the votes were tallied, the result was hardly surprising. The proposal passed, and this time, it garnered even more support than the Blackwell approval into the board. The room was filled with murmurs, some in favor and others resigned. The only moment that stood out was Victor Carter, the representative of Geode Capital Management, casting his vote. Known for his outspoken disdain for the Blackwells, his "yes" vote was unexpected.

Jensen, watching the man, couldn’t hide his disappointment. As their eyes met, Victor gave a small shake of his head, his expression resigned. The message was clear—principles had given way to pragmatism. He, like so many others in the room, was simply in it for his own interests.

Jensen leaned back in his chair, the weight of the moment sinking in. This wasn’t about business, integrity, or loyalty. It was about survival in a game where alliances shifted like sand, and the only rule was self-preservation.

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