291-293

*Chapter 291: The Opportunity to Get Close to Coca-Cola*

"Hey, Avril, what’s on your mind?" the bassist asked as the music came to a stop.

"Huh?" Avril, who had been lost in thought, finally snapped out of it. "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"What’s up with you today? You've been spaced out several times," the drummer chimed in.

"Don’t tell me you’re dating some lucky guy," someone teased, prompting a ripple of chuckles among the group.

"Alright, guys, cut it out," Avril forced a smile, trying to act casual. "I know I’m not at my best today, but I’ll get it together soon, I promise!"

With that, the matter was dropped.

But only Avril knew the real reason for her distraction—it stemmed from certain rumors in the company and something she witnessed earlier that day.

Even during practice, she couldn’t shake it off, zoning out multiple times and earning comments from her bandmates.

Avril Lavigne, a Canadian, wasn’t even 14 yet.

She had joined Universal Music earlier this year after being scouted from Canada.

Thanks to the massive success of teenage pop stars like Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera, along with encouragement from the higher-ups, Universal was more eager than ever to cultivate fresh talent.

They scoured for promising young people, even children, to develop—taking a page from Disney’s Mickey Mouse Club playbook.

After all, their boss had famously snatched Disney’s most successful Mickey Mouse Club talent for their own roster.

That’s how Avril ended up at Universal, signing a trainee contract with the company.

She wasn’t alone. There were others around her age, like Cheryl Cole, Carrie Underwood, and Katy Perry—12 or 13 years old—also brought in to be groomed for stardom.

None of them had debuted yet.

Among them, Avril appeared the youngest and smallest.

However, personality-wise, she was somewhat precocious.

She had also heard whispers around the company—rumors about why stars like Britney and Christina were so successful.

It wasn’t just their talent that stood out; there was something else.

As Avril stared at her sheet music, her thoughts drifted to what she had seen earlier that day. During lunch, she had watched Britney Spears, the megastar herself, take the elevator to the top floor and not come back down.

By schedule, Britney should have been at the training studio for her sessions.

After all, her natural talent, vocal ability, and tone were considered average at best.

Her fame, many believed, was partly because she filled a gap in the entertainment industry and partly because of her extraordinary luck.

Her first two albums were produced by Milo Blackburn, the genius billionaire.

But Avril, wise beyond her years, was starting to think Britney’s success wasn’t just luck.

It was something else entirely.

The adventurous spirit that had once made 10-year-old Avril take on three boys in a fight and leap from a second-story window at 11 seemed to awaken again.

She made an excuse to leave the training studio.

Instead of taking the elevator, Avril quietly climbed the stairs from the third floor to the top sixth floor.

What she didn’t expect—and what made her reconsider her daring plan—was the presence of two groups of tall, intimidating men in black suits stationed on the stairwell.

At first, they refused to let her pass.

But after confirming her identity and talking to someone on a walkie-talkie, they allowed her through.

Avril stealthily made her way to the sixth floor, navigating the hallways until she reached the exclusive lounge she had snuck into twice before during breaks.

It was luxurious and spacious—later, she learned it was Milo Blackburn’s private lounge.

The hallway was eerily empty, and the door was slightly ajar.

Without overthinking, Avril approached. Just as she was about to knock, the scene through the door crack froze her in place.

Inside, Britney Spears, dressed in ankle boots, fitted pants, and a slim long-sleeve dress, was sitting on Milo’s lap.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she flirted with him, occasionally planting kisses on him.

Milo, smiling, responded playfully, his hands wandering to her chin, waist, and hips.

This was a stark contrast to the serious and respectable image of him in the media.

Avril’s mind buzzed, her hands and feet turning icy cold.

She had heard the rumors around the company—about how Britney and Christina had suspiciously close relationships with the boss, Milo Blackburn, who had discovered and catapulted them to stardom.

Many whispered that the two had been intimate with him.

But like everyone else, Avril had been skeptical.

Until now.

Stay calm. Stay calm.

Whatever this is, you need to keep your cool!

Avril repeated these words in her head, trying to suppress her panic.

But snippets of their conversation reached her ears:

"Interesting lyrics—you’ve clearly learned a lot at the music academy."

"I wrote it for my master."

"This could be released as a single."

"If you say so, your little pet will listen—let’s release it!"

Master? Pet?

Those words sent a chill through Avril’s spine.

Her heart raced as her hands and feet went numb, her breathing shallow and stiff.

Her rational mind screamed at her to leave immediately.

If they discovered her, the consequences could be catastrophic.

But her natural boldness, curiosity, and reckless streak kept her rooted in place.

As she debated her next move—

Clang!  

The door creaked loudly as Avril accidentally pushed it further open.

The pair inside froze, turning their surprised gazes toward her.

In that instant, Avril felt paralyzed, her body betraying her.

She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move.

Facing their stares, she forced a stiff smile, raising a trembling hand. "Hi, hi. I—I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Uh, sorry—my leg, um, it went numb."

Her voice quivered, betraying her fear.

Milo and Britney exchanged a glance, a smile passing between them that Avril couldn’t decipher.

Unbeknownst to her, her presence here wasn’t a fluke of boldness or luck.

If she weren’t Avril—if her name weren’t on a certain permission list—she wouldn’t have made it this far.

She couldn’t possibly make it to the sixth floor; Kenny and the others would stop her.

However, since her name was on the special access list, both Milo and Britney knew she had arrived moments ago.

Even the "little pet" knew about that special list and found Avril Lavigne's name to be particularly unusual.

She suggested playing a little trick on Avril for fun.

That's how Avril witnessed that scene earlier.

And soon after, she would be forced to enter.

At this moment, Britney had already started walking toward her with a sly smile. Her graceful steps revealed that she wasn’t wearing safety shorts under her mini-skirt.

Or rather, she wasn’t wearing anything at all!

"Avril Lavigne?"

As Britney approached Avril, who was trembling slightly from nerves, she crouched down and looked at her with a smile.

Avril's gaze shifted nervously, as though she wanted to say, You’re exposed.

But seeing how Britney seemed entirely unbothered, Avril could only nod. "Y-Yes, that’s me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to..."

She had intended to say she got lost, but then realized Britney wasn’t unfamiliar with her; after all, Avril had been here for almost six months.

She had stayed in this building for half a year, so claiming to be lost wouldn’t convince anyone.

"Anyway, I’m really sorry." Avril was almost in tears.

"No need to apologize."

Britney’s face took on a strange smile. "Welcome. Welcome to reality, Miss Lavigne."

Most people enjoy keeping pets.

Pets can provide companionship and reduce feelings of loneliness. Interacting with them can also be relaxing.

Sometimes, taking care of a pet can bring a sense of responsibility and achievement, like teaching a parrot to speak—seeing the fruits of one’s effort can be rewarding.

These are the usual benefits of owning pets.

But Milo didn’t like animals. The only time he enjoyed animals was when they were on his dinner plate.

Still, he was human and had the desire to "keep pets."

So... he raised a different kind of "pet."

They, too, could offer him emotional comfort and value.

And when he saw his "little pets" achieve greater success in life under his guidance than they had in their previous lives, Milo felt an immense sense of accomplishment.

He was playing a cultivation game.

And they were the pets he was nurturing.

"Stop recording with the DV, you bastard!"

"Ha, such a beautiful moment deserves to be preserved..."

As the sunset painted the sky outside the floor-to-ceiling windows in brilliant hues, the surrounding skyscrapers stood as symbols of human modernity.

Britney pulled the blanket covering herself and Avril a little higher.

"Relax, nothing really happened to you. Tsk, tsk, you’re too small. The master was afraid of breaking you."

"I think so too—maybe in a few years."

Avril felt embarrassed and angry but was too weak to argue. She avoided looking at Britney, focusing instead on the blazing orange sun outside the window. Its warm glow lit up the horizon, breathtakingly beautiful.

By then, the man had already left.

He had been called away by a phone call.

Otherwise, who knows how long he’d have played with me? Avril thought.

Though nothing had truly happened to her, she bit her lip, determined not to let her mind wander.

As they began dressing and preparing to leave Milo’s lounge, Milo himself had arrived at the Rockefeller Center.

This time, he wasn’t headed for his International Building but rather the General Electric Building, the tallest on Sixth Avenue.

On its top floor, Milo met Ariana’s grandfather.

David Rockefeller.

"I think you’ll find this company interesting," David Rockefeller said with a smile.

He opened a drawer under the tea table and pulled out a file folder, handing it to Milo.

Milo, curious, took the folder and opened it. Inside was a stack of documents that he began skimming quickly.

At first glance, Milo looked up, slightly astonished, at the elderly man.

These are Coca-Cola Company equity documents!  

Seeing those words, Milo straightened, his interest piqued.

As expected, not long after, Milo’s gaze landed on a number—22.9%.

This was the exact stake Milo knew the Rockefeller family held in Coca-Cola!

Coca-Cola originally had four major shareholders:

- The Chicago Consortium with 25.4%,

- The Rockefeller family with 22.9%,

- The Morgan family with 21.7%,

- And the Rothschild family with 15.3%.

Of course, these shares were held through various proxies, shell companies, and cross-holdings.

On official shareholder lists, the names of the four families appeared insignificant.

The remaining shares, roughly 10%, were scattered among retail investors and stubborn institutions.

For example, Warren Buffett had been slowly buying shares over the past decade, yet he only held 7%, making him the largest visible shareholder.

In truth, monopolistic companies like General Electric, Coca-Cola, McDonald's, and Subway were controlled by these families.

After reading the documents, Milo looked up slowly.

"My dear David, what are you implying?"

"I’m thinking of selling these shares to you," David Rockefeller replied with a smile.

Milo was immediately tempted.

If he could acquire the Rockefeller family’s 22.9% stake, all he would need to do was purchase a few additional shares on the stock market.

It would be easy for Milo to become Coca-Cola’s largest shareholder, effectively controlling the world’s leading beverage company.

Coca-Cola!  

This wasn’t just about producing sugary black water; it was about generating the most stable profits imaginable!

At this point, Coca-Cola had transcended being merely a beverage.

It had become a symbol of human civilization.

As long as humanity continued to thrive, even into the interstellar era, people would probably still drink Coke.

Is it really that delicious?  

Not necessarily, but the brand had succeeded in embedding itself into humanity’s collective consciousness, creating an almost universal conditioned reflex.

In terms of global cultural impact, no other consumer product could rival Coca-Cola.

To control this company was akin to controlling an inexhaustible source of profit.

To say Milo wasn’t tempted would be a blatant lie.

Coca-Cola’s current market value was about $150 billion.

A 22.9% stake would cost around $30 billion.

Expensive, but worth it.

The question was: why would David Rockefeller be willing to sell such valuable shares?

It was too unusual.

"Why?" Milo asked the old man.

"Morgan doesn’t want JPMorgan Chase to have a third shareholder besides Morgan and Rockefeller," David Rockefeller said softly.

"This is compensation," he added, pointing at the documents.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 292: Everyone Wants to Open the Door for Daddy

Milo always knew there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Giving up shares of J.P. Morgan Chase—well, technically, the bank doesn’t even exist yet.

Due to current U.S. banking laws, it hasn’t been established in this timeline.

In a parallel universe, these laws would only be repealed in 1999.

Less than half a year later, Morgan and Chase would merge at lightning speed, forming what could arguably be called the largest private commercial bank in the world.

Considering the sheer scale of both institutions, finalizing a merger in just six months would seem impossible.

The truth is, the groundwork had already begun years prior.

Milo knew that by at least 1995, Morgan and Rockefeller had started collaborating in this area.

That’s how they managed, by the year 2000, to unleash the most terrifying financial behemoth onto the world in under six months.

Realizing this, Milo had acted accordingly.

Two years ago, when deciding to ally with the Rockefeller family through marriage, he proposed to old David that he wanted a stake in the future J.P. Morgan Chase.

Milo’s bargaining chip? Opening up the Boston consortium to Rockefeller’s influence.

At the time, both sides reached a tentative agreement.

However, back then, Milo didn’t yet hold the clout or influence within the Boston consortium that he does now.

Rockefeller, too, needed time to persuade their allies.

Times have changed.

Now, Milo is practically the acknowledged leader of the Boston consortium.

Opening up the Boston consortium for outside influence would no longer just hurt the consortium—it would directly impact Milo himself.

It also seemed that Rockefeller’s efforts to convince the Morgan group hadn’t gone too well.

Otherwise, today’s confrontation wouldn’t have occurred.

Still… Milo knew that Coca-Cola’s shares weren’t something he could obtain simply by agreeing to back off from Morgan Chase.

Most likely, he’d still need to open up parts of the Boston consortium’s territory to facilitate the exchange.

Such trade-offs would ensure he could acquire Coca-Cola’s stock.

But was it worth it?

Initially, it was about trading Morgan Chase for a portion of Boston’s banking and insurance stock.

Now, the deal had shifted to Coca-Cola shares in exchange for those same assets.

In a moment of clarity, Milo shook his head slightly.

“Coca-Cola stock is indeed valuable, and acquiring more than 10% of it is extremely difficult,” he said.

“But,” Milo continued, staring at the old man, “it’s still something that can be purchased with money. Warren Buffett spent ten years acquiring 7%.”

“That old guy spent less than $10 billion.”

“I imagine if I went to him right now and said, ‘Warren, sell me your Coca-Cola shares. I’ll give you $12 billion,’” Milo smirked.

“I’m certain Omaha’s speculator would be delighted.”

“And as for the shares held by other institutions and retail investors? Spending a bit more money can always secure them.”

“Altogether, I might need over $40 billion to acquire a stake equivalent to these shares.”

“The key point is that, while difficult, it’s still achievable.”

At this, Milo tossed the stock documents back onto the table.

“However, whether it’s the influence over Boston’s banks and insurance companies or a board seat at Morgan Chase, those aren’t things money can buy.”

“I refuse.”

Besides, it’s not as if this 22% stake in Coca-Cola is being given for free.

He’d still have to spend over $30 billion to buy it.

While the old man would also have to spend money acquiring Boston’s shares, trading the core banking and insurance stock of a consortium for Coca-Cola shares was ludicrous.

“No one would make such a deal.”

“I figured as much,” David said with a chuckle. “And I told Morgan you wouldn’t agree.”

“But their stance is clear. My dear, I’m afraid they don’t want you involved in Morgan Chase.”

Milo shrugged, showing no particular anger.

Times have changed, and he no longer has the same desperate need to increase his influence in the financial sector.

With Blackburn Bank’s growth and the increasing influence of the Blackburn family within the Boston consortium, the gap he once sought to fill in the financial sector has been largely addressed.

Moreover, the relationship between Blackburn and Rockefeller has shifted as Milo has matured.

Initially, Rockefeller saw Blackburn as a tool—a stepping stone to penetrate the Boston consortium.

Now, that tool has grown into a formidable weapon.

And Rockefeller is no Monkey King, just a regional demon king at best.

A demon king can’t wield a magical staff, nor can they continue to use Blackburn as they once did.

If their initial dynamic was 1:9, with Blackburn at 1 and Rockefeller at 9, now it’s at least 3:7 or 4:6—if not 5:5.

On top of that, Milo is still young—young enough to terrify them.

They can’t count on him becoming incompetent in the future, nor can they hope that his descendants will be incapable of maintaining the family’s legacy.

Meanwhile, they’re old. Milo, however, has another 60 or 70 years ahead of him.

Two or three decades from now, when this current generation of leaders has all passed away, Milo will be in his prime.

They doubt their successors will be able to deal with him.

Instead of turning Blackburn into a subordinate, they fear Blackburn might turn them into one.

Thus, while the alliance continues, their collaboration is growing weaker.

Both sides are starting to approach an equal footing.

This shifting relationship has even made it difficult for David to maintain the same closeness with Milo as before.

In the United States, the cake is only so big.

When it comes to creating new industries like the internet, cooperation is possible.

But in more traditional sectors, competition remains fierce.

As Blackburn grows stronger and takes a bigger share of the cake, Rockefeller’s portion inevitably shrinks.

Creating a new cake is hard—it requires timing and collective effort.

But snatching slices of an existing cake? That’s much easier.

After lingering in David’s office for another ten minutes, Milo finally left.

By the time he stepped out of the building, the sky was already dark.

The city lights were dazzling, marking one of Manhattan’s most enchanting times of day.

Skyscrapers stood shoulder to shoulder, their glass facades reflecting colorful neon lights, creating a surreal crystal-like world.

Traffic flowed endlessly on the streets, the red glow of car taillights forming long ribbons of light that intertwined with the neon signs and shop displays.

As Milo’s convoy passed through Times Square, giant screens broadcast vibrant ads, many of them hyping the seventh and final installment of the Harry Potter series, as well as announcements about the upcoming live-action film adaptation.

Inside the car, Milo paid no attention to any of this.

He was deep in thought—about Coca-Cola.

For the average person, the name Warren Buffett is almost synonymous with Coca-Cola’s ownership due to his fame.

But in reality, the old man owns only 7% of the company.

While he’s a major shareholder, he’s far from being the true owner.

For those with a bit more industry knowledge, digging deeper would reveal that the Chicago consortium holds a significant stake in Coca-Cola.

And a look into history would show that Coca-Cola was initially developed by the Chicago consortium.

However, over time, Coca-Cola has ceased to be a core company for the Chicago consortium.

Due to internal family conflicts and power struggles, the once-mighty Chicago consortium has long been fragmented under the relentless attacks of Morgan and Rockefeller, leaving it a shadow of its former self.

However, the two major conglomerates initially targeting the Chicago consortium were not focused on Coca-Cola.

Based on his recollection of later events, Milo was very clear: the Rockefeller consortium and the Morgan consortium had their eyes set on the financial, heavy manufacturing, oil, and mining companies of the Chicago consortium.

On a secondary level, they were also interested in companies in the retail sector, such as Sears, Roebuck & Co., United Department Stores, Marshall Field & Co., and Tiffany & Co.

In this struggle, Coca-Cola was merely an afterthought.

But who would have thought that the afterthought of those days would, with the globalization of the economy and the rise of American power, become one of the symbols of the United States?

It even turned into one of the most stable sources of cash flow.

You could say the ugly duckling turned into a swan.

Damn, I really want it.

But it’s difficult to achieve.

The four major shareholders are Morgan, Rockefeller, Rothschild, and the Chicago consortium.

The first two would never hand it over to me, unless I gave up some control of the Boston consortium.

And the Chicago consortium is now merely a vassal of the first two, practically a zombie conglomerate.

It’s just as unlikely to get it from them.

Maybe…

Milo took out his phone and called the Blackburn Foundation.

“It’s me. Have we had any contact with Rothschild representatives in Canada?”

“Alright, let them know I’d like to meet.”

“…”

After hanging up, the convoy returned to the Upper East Side.

Sophie had gone to Los Angeles to run her production company and work as a producer.

Over the past few days, Milo’s two little princesses, along with little Paladin, had been staying with him in a townhouse on the Upper East Side.

Manhattan doesn’t have standalone villas.

Land here is so precious that even the Roosevelt family, who once owned much of Manhattan, didn’t have one.

Their address was 4 East 74th Street, Upper East Side, Manhattan.

It’s a six-story townhouse built in 1910, with an interior area of 22,745 square feet—roughly 2,000 square meters.

As you enter, you’re greeted by a brightly lit hall with a crystal chandelier hanging from the second-floor ceiling, illuminating the space like daylight.

The walls on both sides of the hall are covered with large slabs of marble, with bright sconces placed every few feet.

At the far end of the hall is a staircase leading to the second floor, designed elegantly in a semi-circular shape. In the middle of the open space beneath the staircase stands a grand piano.

Originally, there was nothing in the middle, but Ivana, after moving in, felt it looked too empty and decided to place the piano there.

The piano was purchased by Ivana at a Christie’s auction in New York.

It’s called the “C. Bechstein Louis XV Gold Piano.”

The piano is said to be a recreation of the 19th-century Louis XV piano, crafted for the British royal family. It was created to commemorate Bechstein’s 140th anniversary, with master craftsmen dedicating three years to its construction, using significant amounts of gold and other rare materials.

Ivana spent $1.5 million to bring it here, but in the few months since, it has only been played two or three times.

The first floor of the townhouse mainly serves as a reception area and foyer, with a waiting room.

There’s an elevator, but Milo didn’t use it; instead, he walked up to the second floor via the stairs.

As he stepped out of the stairwell, two maids opened the door to the living room for him.

Inside, the sounds of children laughing and playing immediately greeted him. It was Lily, Rose, and Paladin chasing each other around the room.

Ivana, the housekeeper Mrs. Solie, Milo’s personal maid Shirley Liu, and a few other staff members were following the children, watching over their play.

The lives of wealthy children are like this—even during playtime, each child is accompanied by two or three attendants to prevent any mishaps.

“Daddy’s home!” said two-and-a-half-year-old Lily, speaking clearly. Being closest to the door, she ran over with a bright smile.

The other two children followed, cheering as they ran.

“Daddy, you’re back! Why didn’t you knock before coming in? You need to knock before entering the house!”

Lily stopped in front of her father and pointed to the living room door.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know because someone opened the door for me.”

“Then you should go outside and knock. After I open the door, you can come in!”

She was quite sharp-tongued for her age.

At just two and a half, she could say so much so fluently.

With her doll-like looks—well, she and Rose were literal “doll-like” kids, being of European descent.

“Alright, alright,” Milo said, smiling at Lily’s insistent tone. He hugged Rose and little Paladin, who had just caught up to him.

Then Milo stepped back outside and knocked on the door again.

“Excuse me, is anyone home? If so, could you help me open the door?”

Lily’s joyful voice immediately came from the other side. “Yes! I’ll help Daddy open the door right away!”

But she was too small, and the door was too big. She couldn’t reach the handle, and the tightly shut door didn’t budge.

However, Ivana, who had followed them, discreetly signaled Shirley Liu to help.

Shirley quietly opened the door, making it look as though Lily had done it herself.

Lily beamed with happiness.

As soon as the door opened, she threw herself into her father’s arms. Milo picked her up, and she kissed his face.

But before Milo could set her down or pick up Rose or Paladin, Rose shouted indignantly, “I want to help Daddy open the door too! Daddy, go outside! I want to open the door!”

Milo: “…”

Ivana, meanwhile, was laughing so hard her large, pregnant belly shook.

“Hahaha! That’s what you get for not taking the elevator! Hahaha! A few days ago, I went through the same thing! Twins! Twins! This is the biggest trouble with twins! Hahaha…”

So Milo had to step outside again to let Rose “help” open the door.

Finally, even little Paladin, who wasn’t as articulate yet, wanted a turn.

As a result, Milo entered the house a total of four times and knocked on the door three times that day.

(End of Chapter)