[Adam’s PoV]
Five years later…
Almost twelve years have passed since we first settled here in Brunswick, and I find myself standing in awe of how much Daniel has changed. I remember the little boy who had a world of curiosity in his eyes. Now, at the age of 14, Danny has blossomed into something I never expected—something I’m not sure I even prepared for.
He’s always been sharp—sharper than most kids his age—but I didn’t think he’d be this good. It’s almost frightening how well he understands the market. It’s as though he’s been studying it for decades, not just the few years he’s had access to it. I see the way he analyzes numbers, the precision in his thoughts, the way he picks out trends in the chaos of it all. The way he talks about assets, liabilities, and equity—as though he’s been living and breathing finance for years.
And then there’s the way he challenges me. I’ve never met someone so young who can outsmart me so casually. He finds ways to work around me, navigate complex scenarios like it’s second nature, and at times, it feels like I’m the one learning from him.
Even Whitmore, who has been one of the smartest managers I've ever had, finds himself struggling to keep up with Danny’s insights. I’ve watched Whitmore—always calculated, always a step ahead—admit that he’s been taken aback by my son’s brilliance. It's humbling in a way. It reminds me of the time I challenged my father’s judgment, only to realize that ambition often comes with an unexpected clarity of thought.
And then there’s father’s company. My father’s empire, Lewis Corps, has grown exponentially since the market crash of 1974, an event that shook the very foundation of the financial world after the Yom Kippur War. For those who feared the end of an era, it was a brutal wake-up call—but for those with the foresight and resilience to withstand it, it presented a unique opportunity.
Father seized it. His company has weathered the storm and flourished in ways I didn’t anticipate. As of now, Lewis Corps is worth a staggering $8 billion. And the worst part? My stake in the company is now valued in the millions. The thought of it—of everything father has built and the wealth I stand to inherit—should mean something to me. But it doesn’t. It’s almost laughable.
You see, my own venture has become more than a mere distraction or a side project—it’s an empire in its own right. The mutual fund is doing remarkably well. Our assets under management (AUM) have crossed $75 million, and the 1% fee we take on that sum continues to bring in a steady stream of income. The way this fund has grown—it's outpacing what I could’ve imagined in such a short period. Even the old-timers at the firm can’t help but acknowledge the sheer power of it, despite their stubbornness.
But none of that has gone unnoticed by my father, Jonathan. In typical fashion, he’s taken an interest in my fund, but not because of a desire to join forces or offer advice. No, he’s decided to put $5 million into it as a means of keeping an eye on me. To be honest, it’s almost endearing in a way. A little game, perhaps. But it’s also his way of showing me that, even as I carve my own path, I can never truly escape the influence of the family legacy.
As I watch Danny pour over some new financial reports this morning, talking about the future in a way that makes my heart swell with pride and a hint of unease, I can’t help but wonder what’s next. This boy, this prodigy, who grew up under my roof, is quickly becoming a force in his own right. A force I might not be able to control—or even outsmart. Maybe it’s time I let go and embrace the fact that he’s already more than capable of shaping his own future. And as for mine—well, let’s just say, it’s clear that I’ll be standing beside him, not ahead of him, in the coming years.
But there’s one thing I know for certain: no matter how much we grow, no matter how far Danny goes, he’ll always have a place here. A place where he’s not just my son, but my equal. And perhaps, when the time is right, my successor.
[Daniel’s PoV]
I am fourteen now, and the year is 1979. In seven years, my grandfather, Jonathan, will pass away in 1986. That gives me a limited window to gradually bring the empire he built under my control. The first step toward that goal begins now.
A couple of years ago, when my trust fund surpassed the million-dollar mark, I unlocked a skill known as “The Ledger of Fate.” It was nothing short of a revelation. This ability grants me a system interface that exposes the true financial health, hidden intricacies, and potential future of any business, asset, or individual. With it, I can make superior investment decisions, uncover fraud, and seize opportunities that others overlook.
As of now, my net worth on paper exceeds $2 million. Most of that credit goes to Cornelius, the Trustee of my trust fund, whose financial decisions have been undeniably sharp. I have yet to meet him, but I suspect my father knows him well.
In just two years, the value of my trust fund has more than doubled—a testament to Cornelius’s formidable investment acumen. At nearly eighty years old, his influence remains as strong as ever. As the heir to both the Vanderbilt and Whitney fortunes, he commands immense wealth, having navigated the rise and fall of multiple businesses throughout his lifetime.
He co-founded Pan Am, which was eventually absorbed into larger, government-backed enterprises during World War II. His Whitney Oil & Gas holdings were largely taken over by Gulf Oil in the 1950s. Meanwhile, Hudson Bay Mining & Smelting Co. continues to generate profits under his name. He also once ran C.V. Whitney Films, but by the late 1950s, as major studios dominated the industry, he withdrew from independent film production.
Though his involvement in publishing persists, Cornelius’s most enduring legacies lie in horse racing and the arts. He took control of Whitney Stables, one of America’s foremost horse breeding operations, and in 1947, he founded C.V. Whitney Racing Stable, producing multiple Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes champions. His contributions to the Whitney Museum of American Art, founded by his mother, Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, have also cemented his name in the cultural world.
Today, his net worth stands at an estimated $500 million. Though, not as wealthy as my grandfather, his fortune is astronomical in its own right.
Other than that, my skill repertoire has also expanded.
My existing skills have only seen marginal improvement, as they were already approaching their peak. However, the newer ones—like Pitching and Hitting—have progressed significantly, though not as much as I would have liked. My time on baseball has gradually diminished as I’ve shifted my focus to assisting Father in his work.
Academically, I’ve taken an unconventional route. By accelerating my education through early examinations, I’ve skipped multiple grades and am now in my senior year of high school, years ahead of my peers. I rarely attend school, instead studying at home before exams, allowing me to dedicate as much time as possible to proving myself in Father’s business. He allows this arrangement, knowing I can ace my exams effortlessly. While he worries about my lack of social interaction, I put his concerns to rest when I accompany him to meetings, effortlessly navigating conversations with influential clients.
Beyond business dealings, I spend my time exploring the town and occasionally crossing the river to Lovettsville, analyzing businesses in the area. With my ability to see their true valuations and future potential, it has become something of a game—identifying enterprises that might be worth my investment.
More importantly, I’ve come to realize the true potential of my unique skill. If I can foresee the success of businesses before the market does, why not leverage that foresight? The digital boom is still years away, but I can lay the groundwork for something revolutionary. Venture capital.
Soon, I’ll establish my own venture capital fund—one that will put me leagues ahead of the competition before they even know what’s coming.
