361-365

*Chapter 361: Richard's Choice*

It was a little after 9 p.m. when the 77th Academy Awards ceremony concluded. Million Dollar Baby won big, securing three major awards: Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Supporting Actor out of seven nominations, making it the biggest winner of the night.

New Century Pictures also took home two major awards, Best Actor and Best Actress, making them another major winner at this year’s Oscars.

After the ceremony, many people gathered around Richard and the Copasson production team to offer their congratulations.

Richard, though deep in thought, exchanged a few polite words before finding Ms. Theron, who was chatting with Julia Roberts and Angelina Jolie.

“Richard, congratulations! New Century Pictures had an amazing night. Let's work together sometime,” Julia Roberts said with a smile.

“Of course, Julia!” Richard replied with a light chuckle.

“Hey, Mr. Oscar-Winning Actor and Actress Maker, you’re so good at this. When are you going to make yourself one of those golden statues?” Julia teased with a wink.

Richard shrugged. “I’m not sure 'maker' is the right title for me. I’d prefer to be known as a hardworking and dedicated actor.”

Julia playfully bit her lip and gave him a look. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to chatting with Charlize. We’ll catch up later.”

After hugging Ms. Theron and congratulating her, Julia left with the rest of her film crew.

“Charlize, you really gave me quite a surprise,” Richard said as he gently hugged her.

“Are you upset with me?” Ms. Theron asked, holding her Oscar tightly with a small smile.

“Of course not. I was planning to make the announcement after stepping away from the industry, but doing it now is just fine. No need to overthink it.”

Richard shrugged casually.

“Aren’t you worried people will call you a scumbag? You’re a global icon—countless people look up to you,” Ms. Theron said with concern.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t rely on fans for my livelihood. Without all the craziness, my world would feel more real. Let’s go face the media and tell them the truth. I don’t want anyone claiming Annie is an illegitimate child.”

Richard took her by the arm and started walking toward the exit.

“Wait, you’re going public with this?” Ms. Theron asked, surprised.

“Yes. I want Annie to grow up in a healthy environment, not one where she’s ridiculed. That would be terrible for her development.”

Richard spoke earnestly.

“Are you serious? Do you know what the fallout will be? You’re a symbol of the American Dream, a superhero admired by millions. If people find out you’ve been having affairs, you’ll be vilified. Your films, your boxing career, your personal brand—they’ll all take a hit. Have you thought this through?”

“I have. I thought about it just now. In the past, I protected my image to win fans and make money. But I have money now—lots of it. I don’t need to keep doing that. My reputation and fan base don’t matter as much to me anymore, at least not compared to you and Annie. This decision wasn’t hard for me to make.”

Richard spoke softly as he held her close.

“And Gisele? Don’t you care how she’ll feel?” Ms. Theron asked.

“I do. When we’re back in New York, I’ll apologize to her properly and hope she can forgive me.”

Richard sighed.

“Hmph, so I rank far below her in your heart, huh? She can forgive you, but I’m just a source of trouble for you?”

“Darling, you’ve never caused me trouble. The fact that I haven’t given you and Annie a public identity is my fault. Let’s go. I’ve thought this through. As a father, I need to take responsibility and bravely acknowledge the truth.”

“Wait, I need to touch up my makeup first. Wait for me here,” Ms. Theron said, kissing him lightly before lifting her gown and walking toward the restroom.

Richard nodded slightly and slowly headed toward the exit.

“Richard, are you going to the Oscars after-party tonight?” Brad Pitt approached and asked.

“No time. I’ve got other things to deal with.”

“Alright then!” Brad Pitt nodded, pausing for a moment before asking, “Is this thing with Charlize going to affect you?”

Richard glanced at him, understanding what he meant. If it did affect him, it would certainly impact their film The Departed.

“Don’t worry. We’ll handle it.”

“Haha, alright. You’re always full of surprises.” Brad Pitt laughed before leaving the theater.

“Richard!” his assistant, Anna, called out as she hurried over with a phone in hand. “Anthony wants to talk to you.”

Richard took the phone. “Anthony, what’s up?”

“With everything going on, how are you staying so calm?” Anthony exclaimed over the phone, exasperated. “Richard, it’s best if you keep quiet for now and don’t speak to reporters. Let us handle it. Whatever you do, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“What’s your plan? The news is already out, and I’m not going to hide it. I plan to admit that Annie is my daughter. I’m retiring from the industry anyway, so it won’t make much of a difference.”

“What?! You’re going to admit it? No, Richard, you can’t do that. Publicly acknowledging it will have terrible consequences—it could ruin you.”

“Ruin me? You’re exaggerating. Even if my reputation takes a hit and I’m branded as a scumbag, it won’t affect my ranking on Forbes, and it certainly won’t affect my boxing earnings. The biggest impact will be with my fanbase and personal brand, and that’s a loss I can handle,” Richard said, unconcerned.

He had once planned to retire to avoid his private life being exposed. A scandal about a movie star’s private life can have a significant impact, but if it's a boxer, a film mogul, or a billionaire, the consequences are much smaller. For example, the last president had a ‘zipper gate’ scandal, but still managed to smoothly leave office with the highest approval rating of any president in history.

So, he really wasn’t concerned about it.

"Richard, listen to me. For you, exposing this matter may not be a big deal, but for your fans and admirers, it would have a huge impact.

You’re a youth idol, a role model of the times, and a superhero worshipped by countless people. They want you to be flawless.

If this gets exposed, it will disappoint many people, especially young fans who look up to you. They might lose their way. So, for the sake of those lost young people, please think carefully," Anthony said seriously.

Richard frowned. Anthony was exaggerating, but not entirely. After he became famous, many people in their teens, twenties, and even thirties idolized and supported him.

For example, there was a story about him and his coach Alvin in a 7th-grade textbook. The story was about how, after winning the championship belt, he lifted Alvin to show his respect and gratitude. It had a deeper meaning, as Alvin was African American.

There were also many motivational articles, essays, and inspirational literature that used his story as an example.

They talked about how he lost his parents at a young age, but was determined to persevere, practicing boxing relentlessly, working three part-time jobs a day, enduring hunger and hardship, and eventually becoming a legendary champion.

It wasn’t just in his home country, either. Writers from other countries have used his story so much that it’s become cliché.

Due to media and cultural promotion, he became the most influential idol of the times, a global icon, inspiring more and more young people to look up to him, almost like he was a living superhero.

This fame had its advantages. His movies, boxing match recordings, and clothing sold well in the market.

But being an idol came with its responsibilities. He had to consciously maintain his image and be a positive role model.

At the same time, being an idol brought many inconveniences and burdens.

After his net worth skyrocketed, income from his status as an idol became a small part of his overall earnings.

That was also the main reason he planned to leave acting and move behind the scenes.

Until he officially retired, he felt it was his responsibility to maintain his image and set a good example for young people.

But now, things were complicated.

“Anthony, I’ll handle this,” Richard said after thinking for a moment.

“How will you handle it?” Anthony asked, helpless.

“In the past, I taught them perseverance. Today, I’ll teach them something else — how to be a responsible man with integrity.”

“No, Richard, please don’t do that! I’m almost at the Dolby Theatre. Don’t come out yet, just wait for me. Let me handle this.

Don’t forget, I’m the CEO of BAA. Sally is also one of my clients. I’ll talk to her manager, and this won’t affect your relationship,” Anthony said quickly.

“Alright, come over, we’ll meet outside,” Richard said, hanging up the phone.

“Hey Richard, this is director David Frankel,” Copson, the producer, approached with a group of filmmakers. Richard chatted with them for a bit.

This year, New Line Cinema had three films, Saw III, The Butterfly Effect 2, and Match Point. There was also a new project, The Devil Wears Prada, based on the bestselling book The Fashion Queen. The script had just been adapted, and they were currently preparing for production. Copson was racking his brain to find the right director.

After a while, Charlize Theron still hadn’t come out, so Richard asked Anna to check, then walked outside with the New Line team.

“Mr. Brad is coming out!”

“Mr. Brad, can we interview you?”

“Mr. Brad, I’m a reporter from CNN. I have a few questions for you.”

Suddenly, hundreds of reporters swarmed in, cameras flashing non-stop, lighting up the front of the Dolby Theatre as if it were daytime.

Richard composed himself and stepped into the crowd of reporters. Some things couldn’t be avoided; the best way to deal with them was to face them head-on.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 362: Charlize Theron’s Response

“Are the reporters ready?”

“Yes, over fifty of them. As soon as Richard comes out, they’ll swarm him, asking if he’s the father of Charlize Theron’s daughter.”

On Hollywood Boulevard in front of the Dolby Theatre, a black stretch Lincoln was quietly parked by the curb. Through its tinted windows, a faint orange glow flickered.

Weinstein was puffing hard on his cigar, squinting at the entrance of the Dolby Theatre, where hundreds of reporters were waiting in the press area.

They were there to catch interviews with the winners of the Academy Awards, asking about their victories, as well as with those who didn’t win, hoping to dig up some juicy news.

“What if Richard sneaks out the back door?”

Bob glanced out the window.

They had come all the way from the office to personally oversee the situation, aiming to control the narrative. They wanted to see Richard cornered by reporters, his face plastered with embarrassment. As long as Richard ended up in trouble, their efforts would be worthwhile.

Bob wiped the greasy sweat from the edges of his face with a handkerchief.

“Sneak out? If he does, even better. By tomorrow, the headlines will read, ‘Billionaire Richard Brad snuck out the back door of the Oscars to avoid questions about Charlize Theron’s child.’”

“Hahaha, that’s a great headline. Harvey, you’ve got a knack for journalism,” Bob laughed.

Weinstein snorted, “Stop laughing. Get someone to watch him. If he slips out the back, make sure the reporters catch him. Better yet, snap a photo of him sneaking away.”

“Got it, I’ll handle it.”

Bob made a call to an acquaintance, arranging for someone to keep an eye on Richard.

“The Oscars are wrapping up. People are about to come out.”

Bob hung up and reported.

“Good!”

As he spoke, people began trickling out of the Dolby Theatre, many of them regular staff members, without much news value. The reporters paid little attention to them.

After a while, a few celebrities finally appeared: Cate Blanchett and her husband, Orlando Bloom and Patria, the new Best Actor Don Cheadle, Julia Roberts, and others.

As soon as the big names emerged, the reporters swarmed them, asking about their thoughts on the awards and their opinions on the winners.

For those holding Oscar statuettes, the questions came in thick and fast. A reporter bluntly asked Don Cheadle, who won in a surprise upset, whether his win was due to luck or pure luck.

Cheadle, unfazed, smiled as he held his Oscar, thanking the Academy, New Century, Richard Brad, and Copson, along with his family.

One reporter asked if he was kissing up to Richard. Cheadle laughed it off, saying that Richard Brad was exceptional, so there was no need for flattery.

Failing to extract anything newsworthy from Cheadle, the reporters quickly turned their attention to Orlando and Patria as they exited.

There were plenty of potential headlines at this year’s Oscars. Orlando and Patria’s romance, Don Cheadle’s upset win—either could top the news.

But during the ceremony, Charlize Theron dropped a bombshell that overshadowed everything, becoming the biggest headline.

“Charlize Theron is out!”

As someone shouted, a flood of reporters abandoned their interviews with Orlando, Patria, Don Cheadle, Julia Roberts, and Angelina Jolie.

The crowd of fifty reporters grew to more than 150, with even more arriving after watching the live broadcast on TV. Soon, two or three hundred journalists surrounded the steps outside the Dolby Theatre. If not for Theron’s entourage of bodyguards and assistants, she would have been swallowed up by the crowd.

“Sigh, I thought we’d make the front page tomorrow.”

Orlando Bloom watched as Charlize Theron, in her gold evening gown and high heels, descended the stairs with a sigh.

“Front page? You brought me here just to get on the front page?”

Patria said, annoyed.

“Uh, no, Patria, I was just joking. It was a joke, not my goal.”

Orlando quickly explained.

“Hmph.”

Patria wrinkled her nose and frowned as she glanced at Charlize. “I heard they’re saying Charlize’s child’s father is my brother-in-law?”

“Well, it’s possible. They do have a good relationship, and that’s no secret in the industry.”

“Hmph, men are all the same.”

Patria crossed her arms, her demeanor somewhat reminiscent of Gisele Bündchen.

“No, no, Patria, I’m a good man! I would never do what Richard does, messing around despite having a girlfriend. He’s such a scumbag! I despise him! If you want, I’ll cut ties with him entirely.”

Orlando said seriously.

“You despise my brother-in-law? What gives you the right to despise him?”

Patria said, her expression darkening.

“Uh, isn’t he a scumbag? Shouldn’t that be despised?”

Orlando hesitated.

“Who said he’s a scumbag? Did Charlize say the child is my brother-in-law’s? And even if it is, so what? My brother-in-law is a legendary boxer, a global superstar, a super icon, a billionaire, the most powerful and sexy man in the world. It’s normal for him to have a few lovers—anything else would be strange.”

“Uh...”

Orlando was speechless. Does having money and power mean you can do whatever you want?

“Don’t you think Richard’s actions hurt your sister?”

Orlando pointed out.

“Not at all. My brother-in-law gave Gisele everything she ever wanted: a family, children, a career, status, respect, and a platform to fulfill her dreams. My brother-in-law makes $160 million in ten minutes, but his favorite thing to do is stay at home with his wife and kids. A man like that is allowed a few flaws. If you’re too nitpicky, you’ll just end up a bitter woman. My sister is smarter than that.”

Patria said with a smirk.

Orlando nodded slightly, “Your sister really is wise and forgiving, just like you.”

“Hmph, don’t flatter me. Gisele is forgiving, but I’m not. If you ever cheat or get too cozy with another woman, we’re done.”

Patria crossed her arms as they walked.

“Uh, but you just defended Richard...”

“What about my brother-in-law? He’s a legendary boxer, global superstar, super icon, billionaire, and the most powerful and sexy man in the world. If you can achieve even one of those things, then I’ll be as forgiving as my sister.”

“Well...”

Orlando thought about Richard’s accomplishments. Boxer? Impossible. Global icon? Unlikely. Billionaire? No way. The most powerful and sexy man in the world? Also tough. The only thing he might achieve was global superstardom, but even then, Richard had twice been the highest-grossing actor and earned over $60 million per film—so that seemed hard, too.

“What are you thinking about?”

Patria glared at him. “Are you actually thinking about cheating?”

“Uh, no, no, I was just thinking out loud.”

Just then, the reporters who had left came back, surrounding them with microphones and cameras.

“Orlando, Patria, can we ask you a few more questions?”

Orlando was puzzled, “You finished interviewing Charlize already?”

“Yes, the interview’s done,” a reporter replied.

“That was quick.”

By the curb, Bob frowned, turning to his assistant, “A story that big, with that many reporters, and they only interviewed her for three minutes?”

“Yep, it wasn’t much of a story.”

“Not much of a story?!”

Bob was unhappy. "Charlize Theron, one of Hollywood's top actresses, got pregnant out of wedlock, and the father might be billionaire Richard Brad. Are you seriously saying this isn't big news?!"

"Uh, well, Ms. Theron said that Annie is a child she brought from her hometown in South Africa, and she's her treasure. There are many Hollywood stars who adopt kids, like Julia Roberts and Angelina Jolie. This isn't that big of a story," the assistant replied.

"Adoption?!"

Weinstein was furious. "Are those reporters idiots? Charlize Theron didn't take any acting jobs last year. If she wasn't having a baby, what was she doing? Don't they know how to make bold assumptions and verify carefully?"

"A reporter did ask about it. Ms. Theron's assistant said that the company would hold a press conference later to provide more details and answer questions. After saying that, Ms. Theron left," the assistant said.

"Fuck! She's just dodging the real issue."

Weinstein angrily slammed his seat.

"What should we do now? Should we have reporters chase after her and dig deeper?" Bob asked.

Weinstein took a few deep breaths, his large belly straining against his belt. "It's pointless. Without evidence, we can't touch that bastard Richard."

"Evidence? How about we send someone to South Africa to collect evidence?" Bob suggested thoughtfully.

"It’s useless. If they thought this far ahead, they wouldn’t have left any loose ends. We need to target the people around Theron and find a way to buy some evidence," Weinstein said, squinting his eyes.

"Got it!" Bob nodded.

"Mr. Brad is coming out," someone shouted.

The reporters swarmed around again.

"Hmph, let’s go!" Weinstein glanced over from a distance and waved for the driver to start the car.

"Mr. Brad, this is your second time missing out on the Oscar. Do you feel disappointed?" asked a reporter from the Los Angeles Times, holding a microphone.

"Not at all disappointed. As everyone knows, young actors usually need a few nominations before they win an Oscar. I've been nominated twice and lost twice, but each time, I’m getting closer to the gold statue," Richard said with a smile.

"Mr. Brad, in a previous interview, you mentioned that you plan to retire from acting next year?" asked the Hollywood Reporter.

"Yes, I’ve made a lot of movies over the years. People often joke that they’re tired of seeing me in every movie, so I’ve decided to respect that and step back from acting for a while," Richard said with a grin.

The reporters chuckled. That night, the hosts even made fun of Richard, saying you could always see him in theaters no matter when you went.

"Richard, we’re not tired of you. We love your movies."

"Don’t retire, Richard! We’ll always support you!"

"Richard, I love you!" a few fans in the crowd shouted.

"Haha, thank you for your support. I love you all too. Although I’m stepping away from acting, I’m not leaving the industry. I’ll move behind the scenes and work to produce more movies that everyone will enjoy. Thank you all again," Richard said warmly.

"Mr. Brad, you’ve said before that you wanted to win an Oscar. Do you feel any regret leaving without achieving that?" a reporter from Variety asked.

"Of course, there’s always some regret. No actor wouldn’t want to win an Oscar. But life is busy now. Maybe in another 30 or 40 years, my chances will be better. After all, the Academy seems to favor older actors more," Richard said, nodding toward Morgan Freeman as he descended the steps. He waved at him from afar.

"Hahaha!" the crowd laughed.

"Hey, Richard, what are you saying about me?" Morgan Freeman called out.

"The reporters were asking when I’ll win an Oscar, and I said maybe when I’m your age, I’ll have a better chance," Richard joked.

"Haha, Richard, you’re excellent. You won’t have to wait that long," Freeman replied with a smile.

"Thank you!"

After a brief chat, Richard started to leave, and the reporters flocked to Morgan Freeman.

As Richard walked out of the reporters' circle, he suddenly thought of something.

"Why didn’t they ask me about the baby?" he wondered aloud.

"Uh, isn’t it better that they didn’t?" his assistant Nia asked, confused.

"It’s not normal," Richard said, shaking his head. He was prepared for the reporters to hound him, but they hadn’t mentioned it at all, which puzzled him.

"Richard!" Anthony came running over, out of breath. He glanced at the reporters. "Is the interview over?"

"Yeah, it’s over," Richard said, handing him a tissue.

"Did you talk about everything?"

"Talk about what?"

"About Annie."

"No, the reporters didn’t ask," Richard paused and looked at him. "Did you arrange that?"

"No, I just got here. You’re saying the reporters didn’t ask? How’s that possible? This is huge news. Even if the reporters didn’t bring it up, those who want to take you down wouldn’t miss such a golden opportunity."

Anthony looked equally puzzled.

"Richard!" Anna came hurrying over with her phone. "Ms. Theron just left early and told the reporters that Annie is a child she adopted from South Africa."

"Haha, that’s perfect."

Anthony clapped his hands, letting out a big sigh of relief.

"On the way here, I discussed this with the PR team for a long time, and we agreed that the best solution would be for Charlize to say it herself. This is great."

Richard frowned but stayed silent, feeling conflicted.

—

Smack!

"Ouch! What the hell, why’d you hit me?" Charlize Theron exclaimed, rubbing her backside.

"You told the reporters Annie is adopted? You can say that as her biological mother?"

In the villa, Richard squatted beside Annie’s crib. He gazed at the little sweetheart, curled up in her soft blanket, with her golden-brown short hair, long lashes fanning out like tiny brushes, a delicate little nose, and pink lips with a bit of drool on the corner. She was adorable.

"Hmph, how else was I supposed to handle it? Should I have exposed the truth? That would’ve been worse," Charlize replied, kneeling down and tucking the little one’s hand back under the blanket.

Richard looked at Annie quietly and sighed. "I know what you did was the right move. But we escaped the criticism and let little Annie take the fall. I’m really not a good dad."

"I’m not a good mom either!" Charlize sighed, resting her head on the edge of the crib, watching Annie.

"Mama~" The little one blinked her long lashes, slowly opening her eyes.

"Haha, Annie’s awake," Charlize said with a smile.

The little one rubbed her eyes with her tiny fist, then spotted Richard and immediately grinned.

"Dada~"

"Annie, Daddy’s here," Richard said, gently picking her up.

"Go back to sleep, Annie. Mommy and Daddy are right here with you," Charlize whispered, softly patting her.

Annie blinked her big eyes, staring at them intently. She didn’t seem sleepy at all.

"This is your fault, waking her up again," Charlize scolded, giving Richard a light slap.

"If she’s awake, she might as well get up. Sweetheart, how about watching some cartoons and having a snack?"

"Daddy~" The little one stretched out her tiny hands.

"Alright, let’s go!" Richard said, picking her up.

The little one was dressed in her bear pajamas, soft and cuddly, and smelled sweet.

"You’re always spoiling her. Every time you come, Annie’s routine gets all messed up," Charlize grumbled, giving him a kick.

"So what? She’s got nothing to do. A little disruption won’t hurt her growth. Anyway, I’m hungry. How about fixing me a snack?" Richard asked, holding the little one.

"Fine. How much do you want?"

"About half a pound should be good."

"Pig!"

Charlize smiled faintly, tied her hair up, and headed to the kitchen.

Richard sat on the couch with little Annie, watching TV. He suddenly remembered that they had filmed a video during Charlize’s delivery. He took it out and started watching it with Annie.

"Aah, aah, aah~" The little one screamed as she saw herself, a tiny wrinkled baby in the midwife’s hands, crying her lungs out.

Richard wiped his eyes and laughed.

"Annie, do you see that little monkey? That’s you."

Annie’s big eyes widened as she stared at the screen.

"Monkey?"

"Haha, yes, a little monkey. But now you’re a little princess," Richard said, kissing her head.

"Dinner’s ready!" Charlize called out.

"Coming!" Richard turned off the TV, put away the tape, and carried Annie to the dining room.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Richard said, kissing Charlize on the cheek.

"You’re too sweet!" Charlize rolled her eyes but smiled, placing two plates of spaghetti with tomato meat sauce on the table—one big, one small.

"What about Annie’s snack?"

"Here it is." Charlize held a small bowl of noodle soup.

"Uh, we get pasta, and Annie gets soup?"

"She can’t eat too much at night."

Charlize took Annie and began feeding her the soup.

Richard shrugged and dug into his delicious spaghetti.

—

After the Oscars, Richard returned to New York to continue filming "The Departed" while also preparing for the competition, and Andy scheduled three games this year.

In March, he had a game against Sanon Briggs, which was also a good opponent.

  ——

(End of chapter)

Chapter 363: The New Forbes Rankings

"Cut!"

By mid-March, after over two months of filming, Richard finished his role in The Departed.

With no work distractions, Richard felt carefree. His days were filled with just three or four hours of training, and the rest of the time he spent playing with his two kids—Louis and Annie.

After Ms. Theron won her Oscar, her workload suddenly increased.

Plus, with Northern Winds set to start filming at a mining site in Minnesota, she didn’t have time to care for the kids.

Richard suggested once again that little Annie come live in New York.

Ms. Theron thought it over and eventually agreed.

When Annie arrived, Richard was overjoyed.

He spent most of his days playing with the two little ones. Sometimes he held one in each arm; other times, he had one in front and one on his back, completely embracing his role as a full-time stay-at-home dad.

“Daddy! Daddy! Annie’s biting my ear.”

In the small living room, Louis was playing with Lego bricks on the carpet. Out of nowhere, Annie started biting his ear, drooling all over him.

Richard laughed and, putting down his newspaper, picked up little Annie.

“Annie, let go, don’t bite your brother’s ear. Louis, play with your sister. You two should play together.”

Little Annie had become a bit mischievous. After teething at four or five months, she developed a habit of biting things. She’d even bitten through several pacifiers, leading Ms. Theron to consult a child behavior expert.

The expert explained that the little one didn’t like being ignored, and biting was her way of acting out.

Louis had been so absorbed in his Lego that he forgot about his little sister. Of course, she’d bite him for that.

“Daddy, Annie can’t build a house.”

Louis rubbed his ear and complained.

“You can teach her. If you two build it together, it’ll go faster.”

Richard sat down on the carpet and joined the two little ones in building a house.

Mostly, it was him and Louis doing the building while Annie focused on handing them the materials. With her little bottom sticking out, she’d wobble over, pick up a piece, and then call out “Daddy” or “Brother” before proudly handing it over, feeling very helpful.

After a bit of carrying, her little face flushed, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Soon, the three of them had built a three-story house and a big robot. Both kids beamed with joy as they admired their work.

Suddenly, Louis stood up but lost his balance, knocking over the little house.

“Ahhh!”

Louis started to cry, wiping his eyes.

“Haha, don’t cry. We’ll build it again.”

Richard comforted the little one, holding him.

“Brother!”

Annie handed over another block, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Louis whimpered a bit more but quieted down under Annie’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s keep building.”

Richard wiped away Louis’s tears, and the three of them worked together to build a bigger house this time.

Once the house was done, Louis grinned from ear to ear, while little Annie had worn herself out from all the “brick-lifting” and had fallen asleep in Richard’s arms.

Around noon, Ellie came by for a visit, only to find the wealthy Richard Bledsoe dozing off on the couch, with two little ones sound asleep on either side of him.

“Shh…”

Richard gestured for silence and called over the nanny, Helena. Together, they gently carried the two kids to the nursery, laying them in their cribs for Helena to look after.

Returning to the living room, the servants brought out tea and snacks. Ellie sat by the window, enjoying the view of the lush garden and the sprawling rose bushes outside.

“Is there something going on? Why’d you come all the way here?”

Richard asked, sipping his tea.

Ellie looked at him and smiled, “You, a billionaire, just staying at home with the kids every day?”

“Yep, spending time with the kids, watching them laugh and cry, makes me feel happy. Isn’t that what making money is all about—pursuing happiness?”

Richard chuckled.

Ellie shrugged and pulled out a folder. “Have you seen the new Forbes billionaire list?”

“Nope, where did I rank this time?”

Richard asked with interest.

“See for yourself!”

Ellie spread the magazine open, a big smile on her face. The ranking was probably pretty good.

Richard glanced at the new Forbes list.

The Forbes list only counts those with assets exceeding $1 billion, and this year, 691 people made the cut, 104 more than last year.

Bill Gates still held the top spot, reigning supreme for 11 consecutive years, with a net worth of $46.5 billion, down $100 million from last year.

Warren Buffett was still in second place, with his fortune growing from $42.9 billion to $44 billion, closing the gap with Gates.

Third place went to Indian steel magnate Lakshmi Mittal, who skyrocketed from 60th place to 3rd with $25 billion, gaining more than $6 billion.

Larry Ellison ranked 9th, with his net worth dropping by $300 million to $18.4 billion.

As Richard continued to skim the list, expecting to flip a few more pages before finding his name, he was surprised to spot it at number 20.

Richard Bledsoe had a net worth of $14.2 billion, up more than $11 billion from last year.

Last year, he ranked 364th, but this year, he’d shot into the top 20, a meteoric rise. Though it was impressive, he wasn’t the fastest-growing billionaire—others had climbed even quicker.

His wealth came from three main sources: investments, entertainment, and sports.

His investments primarily included stock in Google and Amazon.

Since Google went public last year, its stock had soared from its initial price of $90 to $280. By year-end, it was expected to break $400. Google’s market value had surpassed $70 billion, and Richard’s 15.6% stake was worth around $10.5 billion.

Amazon was also doing well, with its market value exceeding $18 billion. Richard’s 16.1% stake was worth around $2.8 billion.

There were many other projects, too: his 15.1% stake in IMG was valued at about $210 million, and last year he’d earned over $12 million in dividends—pocket money for Ms. Bündchen.

Two boxing matches last year brought in over $200 million, while four movies earned him around $240 million in pay and profit shares.

His New Century Sports franchise and BAA teams earned him around $30 million in dividends, with New Century Sports holding steady at a $200 million valuation.

There were other holdings, like his personal brand, property investments, Oracle stock, Hilton hotels, all valued at around $500 million.

Lastly, there was his 35% stake in SpaceX and 30% in Tesla, where he had invested nearly $200 million and then put another $50 million into research and development.

Forbes deemed those two investments failures, valuing his stakes at just $100 million, suggesting he had made a bad deal.

In the write-up that followed, the author considered these two investments to be rare mistakes for the Bledsoe team.

Richard scoffed at that—what did these journalists know?

Further down the list, he spotted some familiar names.

Sergey Brin and Larry Page, whose net worth had skyrocketed thanks to Google’s IPO, were now worth $10.3 billion and $10.5 billion respectively, jumping from last year’s $1 billion to ranks 52 and 51.

Rupert Murdoch was worth $8.2 billion, placing him 61st.

Jeff Bezos, with his 21.5% stake in Amazon, was worth around $3.8 billion, ranking 282nd.

Old Tomp, with $2.2 billion, remained in 352nd place, little changed from last year.

“Not bad at all.”

Having followed the Forbes list for a few years now, Richard had become used to seeing his name. The thrill had worn off. $14.2 billion was just a number; what really mattered were the few dollars of pocket change in his wallet.

— End of Chapter —

*Chapter 364: Charity Foundation*

"Ellie, keep it up. Maybe in another two years, we'll see your name on the list."

Ellie had been working with him for a few years, and her net worth was close to 500 million. She wasn’t far from making it onto the list.

"I'm only on track because I'm working with you. The more you earn, the better my chances."

Ellie smiled softly and pulled out another folder.

"Stella's crying poor again. It's like Elon Musk thinks of us as his free meal ticket. Every time he’s short on cash, he comes to us. Do you really think this investment is necessary?"

Richard chuckled. Elon Musk had once come to him, pitching an investment for the upcoming Roadster electric sports car. But when Richard visited the factory, all he saw was an empty shell — nothing substantial.

After working on battery cell technology and thermal runaway detection, they started researching electric vehicle control systems. They spent over 30 million along the way.

Now, the materials from Stella requested another 50 million for further research into new technologies, such as multi-power source applications and high-voltage safety technologies, focusing mainly on charging.

After looking over the materials, Richard genuinely felt that Stella was a money pit. If it weren’t for Musk's data suggesting Stella could be profitable, he wouldn’t have much confidence.

“Are they wasting money?” Richard asked.

“No, not really. It's just that tech development burns through cash. At least 50 million a year. If you weren’t wealthy enough, Stella would’ve dragged you down.”

Ellie shook her head with a smile.

"Rapid spending on tech development is normal. We've already invested so much; stopping now would waste all the previous investments."

Richard signed off on the second-phase investment plan.

“Alright, but I’m planning to spend some time at Stella to make sure they’re staying on track,” Ellie said.

"Uh, is that really a good idea? Elon seems to be pretty scared of you. Your presence might put a lot of pressure on him," Richard laughed.

Ellie smirked. "Do you really think Elon Musk is taking things seriously after getting the money? You’ve got too much faith in that guy. Last year, after getting funds, he ran off to Hollywood and invested in two films, including Thank You for Smoking, where he even had a cameo role."

"Really?"

Richard rubbed his chin, amused by Musk's antics.

"Alright, go check it out. Oh, and last year Musk promised to deliver me a Stella electric sports car this year. But with so many of its technologies still undeveloped, I don’t dare drive it when it arrives.

You could ask them to make two kid-sized electric cars, preferably Transformers-style. I’ll give them to Louis and Annie as gifts."

"No problem. After all the money we've thrown at them, if they can’t manage that, it would be a waste of our investment."

Ellie chuckled.

Richard smiled as he continued reviewing the documents. After allocating the funds to Stella, there was still about 340 million left in the account.

Some of the money was from last year’s unused dividends, some from incoming payments for acting fees and royalties, and a portion from the investment team’s earnings.

Currently, Brad Investment Company and Sun Island Venture Capital were managing Google and Amazon stock portfolios, as well as handling various venture capital investments, bonds, and stocks. Some investments made profits, others losses, but overall, they were doing well, with last year’s earnings reaching 50 million. Ellie was in charge of that.

“Ellie, I’m thinking of setting up a charity foundation. We’ll allocate 50 million annually to help homeless orphans and disabled children. Actually, never mind — you’ve got enough on your plate. Let’s hand this over to Michelle. She should be able to handle it.”

Ellie nodded. "You're not just a billionaire but also a superstar. Doing charity is necessary. I suggest having Gisele take the lead. Having a philanthropist reputation will help her integrate into American society more smoothly."

Richard thought for a moment and agreed with her suggestion.

Gisele, a Brazilian native, had only gained dual citizenship last year. Even though she’d become a fashion icon and launched her own brand, the media still criticized their relationship, claiming Richard shouldn’t have married someone with Brazilian nationality. This upset Gisele a bit.

Ellie’s suggestion was spot on. Having a philanthropic title would not only elevate Gisele's social standing but also improve the public's perception of her, benefiting them in many ways.

After seeing Ellie off, Richard went to check on the babies.

The two little ones were still asleep. They usually napped for two or three hours in the afternoon, or else they’d be cranky. If they slept too long, they’d be restless at night.

Not wanting to disturb them, Richard changed into workout gear and headed to the gym for some speed and strength training.

A couple of years ago, he partnered with Larry Ellison to invest in a health research hospital. At first, Larry wanted to research Richard's body to uncover its secrets.

After some tests, the experts couldn't find anything unusual. Aside from a more efficient circulatory system, metabolism, and immune system, everything else, like his genes, was normal.

His physical condition was comparable to that of an athlete, which could be achieved with regular training.

Of course, Richard hadn’t revealed everything during the tests, like his rapid recovery ability. A good night's sleep could leave him feeling rejuvenated. He also healed faster than most after injuries.

Doctors couldn’t just cut him open for research, so the results were inconclusive.

With no breakthrough, the research facility shifted focus to nutrition and health, providing consultation services to key clients. Richard had monthly checkups and paid close attention to his health and nutrition, further improving his physical condition.

His squat routine had progressed from 400 pounds for 4 sets of 160 reps to 500 pounds for the same reps, along with weighted boxing drills and jump rope exercises.

Although the doctors warned that heavy training could put stress on his bones and wear down his body, Richard wasn’t concerned. They didn’t know about his rapid recovery, so their advice didn’t apply to him.

After a three-hour workout, Richard was drenched in sweat.

He showered, had a nutritious meal, and took a half-hour nap on a massage bed.

When he woke up, the two little ones were playing games with Helena and the others in the family’s mini-Disneyland-style playroom.

The kids were having a blast, their clear laughter ringing out.

Richard stood nearby watching them, losing track of time until the sun began to set.

"Spent the whole day at home again?" Gisele had returned from work, having recorded a TV show earlier. She wore a sleek silver-gray business outfit and high heels, walking confidently, exuding a growing elegance.

Richard took her handbag. "Socializing is exhausting. It’s much nicer staying at home. Oh, I’ve got something funny to tell you. Today, Annie bit Louis’s ear, and he cried out. It was hilarious."

"What’s so funny about that?"

Gisele pushed him away and went to change into her casual wear.

"Isn't it funny? They’re only one year old and already fighting. I can't imagine what they'll be like when they grow up."

"Ha, ha~" Gisele rolled her eyes. "Louis’s ear is okay, right?"

"What could happen? Annie’s only got a few baby teeth. She was just upset that Louis wasn’t playing with her, so she bit him in frustration, but then quickly let go. In the end, the three of us built a big house together, and they had a great time."

Richard smiled warmly.

Gisele rolled her eyes again. "You sure seem to have a lot of free time. Have you seen the Forbes list? You’re now the 20th richest person in the world, and all you do is stay home building blocks with the kids?"

"Ha ha, I love it. By the way, I have something to discuss with you."

Richard led her to the living room, handed her a cup of coffee, and started talking about setting up the charity foundation.

They planned to initially invest 50 million, focusing on helping children under ten, including orphans, abandoned kids, disabled, or seriously ill children.

The foundation would be called the Richard-Bündchen Children’s Charity Foundation.

“I don’t have time to manage all this. Can I ask you to take charge?” Richard asked, massaging her shoulders.

“You don’t have time? You’re home all day building houses with the kids, and that’s what you call busy?”

Gisele teased.

"My free time is for the kids, not for other things."

"Oh, so now you’re saying I don’t want to be at home with the kids?"

Gisele playfully wrinkled her nose.

After some light teasing, she agreed to take on the role. Doing charity was beneficial for everyone, and the workload wasn’t too heavy. She had time to handle it.

After their discussion, and with Michelle and others helping, the Richard-Bündchen Charity Foundation was quietly established.

Gisele served as the chairperson, overseeing everything. Michelle took on the role of trustee, managing investments and approvals, while other professionals handled the detailed work.

Richard only focused on funding the foundation. When he had time, he continued staying at home with the kids or taking them out to explore the Bronx or play golf at the club.

As his net worth soared, he found himself invited to play golf more frequently — with Larry Ellison, Old Tom, Murdoch, Bezos, and even the president.

His golf skills had improved as well. He even placed third in an amateur competition, gaining some fame within the circle.

"Hey, Richard, good shot!"

Old Tom came over with a club, followed by the great beauty Eva.

  ——

(End of chapter)

*Chapter 365: The Election Issue*

Long Island, Eagle Club Golf Course.

Under the sunlight on the green grass, Richard, dressed in a light blue polo shirt and white casual pants, gently swung his golf club. The ball rolled about five or six feet on the lawn and then, with a soft "thud," dropped into the hole.

"Nice shot!"

Old Tom applauded.

Richard smiled faintly, handed his club to Eva, who was standing beside him, and accepted a towel she offered.

"Donald, Eva said you had something to discuss with me?" Richard asked as he wiped his hands.

"Yes, I heard you’ve established a foundation. I’m quite interested in this new project of yours. Is there any chance I could join?" Old Tom said as he walked alongside Richard, hands behind his back.

"Oh?" Richard raised an eyebrow. Tom, a man known for not acting unless he sees the benefit, showing interest in a charity foundation was surprising.

"Donald, are you also planning to get involved in charity?"

"Yes, actually, I’ve been doing charitable work for years—donating money, goods, you name it. I donated $500,000 after the 9/11 attacks in New York, and $100,000 after last year’s Hurricane Frances, among many other causes."

Richard clapped his hands lightly, "Donald, you are a generous and righteous person. Admirable."

"Hahaha, not as much as you. You donated over $10 million back in 2001, at least half a million for every charity event you’ve attended, and now you’re starting a foundation with $50 million. Richard, you’re the most noble and extraordinary young man I’ve ever met."

*Extraordinary?*

Richard chuckled at the praise, feeling a bit flattered.

Eva glanced at him, smiling as she pressed her lips together, "Dad, you said you wanted to do charity work with Richard. How much are you planning to donate this time?"

Old Tom pursed his lips and glared at her. "I raised you, only for you to side with Richard now and ask for my money? What kind of daughter are you?"

"Dad~" Eva blushed. "You’re the one who said you wanted to do charity work. You can’t just talk about it without donating any money, right?"

Richard smiled softly and pulled Eva close. "Charity is about the intention. The amount doesn’t matter."

"Haha, Richard, you’re a man of principle. Conversations with you are always so pleasant."

"Eva, you should spend more time learning from Richard. Stop nitpicking at me all the time."

"Sometimes, when I say or do things that seem off to you, it’s not that I’m wrong. It’s just that you don’t fully understand my meaning. Only Richard does."

Eva fluttered her long eyelashes and leaned closer, asking, "Is that true?"

"Yes. You’re still young. With time, you might start to understand Mr. Tom’s deeper intentions," Richard said, smiling.

Eva thought for a moment, then responded, "I don’t believe it. I’ve been listening to you two talk nonsense all afternoon."

Richard burst out laughing. "So true. Listening to him is like hearing a conversation that doesn’t go anywhere."

Old Tom shook his head, looking at his daughter with a mix of frustration and affection. "Richard, does your foundation need more staff? How about letting Eva join to gain some experience?"

"Eva, would you be interested in working at the foundation?" Richard asked, turning to her.

Eva had just graduated from Wharton School of Business, one of the top business schools globally, known for producing elite leaders in the business world. She had studied business management and e-commerce, making her a suitable candidate for the foundation.

Eva shrugged. "Dad, if I want to work at the foundation, I can talk to Richard myself. I don’t need you to arrange it."

"I’m only thinking of what’s best for you. Richard’s foundation is newly established, with lots of work to be done. Joining now would give you valuable experience that you won’t get anywhere else."

Richard nodded slightly. "Yes, the early stages are hectic and complex. We have over 20 people on the team already, and we’re coordinating with the UN’s Women and Children Organization, government welfare departments, and other children’s charity organizations. There’s also the management of charity funds. It’s not an easy job."

"Alright then, I’ll give it a shot," Eva said, her eyes gleaming as she turned to her father, holding out her hand. "Dad~"

"What now?" Tom frowned.

"The donation! You said you’d do charity. Don’t tell me you’re only planning to donate me?"

Eva smiled slyly.

Old Tom glared at her, half annoyed, half amused. "You’re quite the daughter! Richard, how about $500,000?"

"Donald, the foundation is hosting a charity gala soon. You can donate then," Richard suggested.

"Haha, I’ll definitely be there."

The purpose of such charity events was often to allow donors to gain recognition. Naturally, Old Tom wouldn’t miss such an opportunity.

They resumed playing golf. Richard’s swing was graceful, while Old Tom’s stiff back made it difficult for him to bend, resulting in awkward movements.

Eva, handling logistics, wore a wide-brimmed hat, a white T-shirt, and a short skirt. Her slim waist, curvy hips, and long legs gave her an elegant appearance as she walked across the green.

After a while, Old Tom left for work, leaving Richard and Eva alone in the wine room, chatting.

"Richard, my dad didn’t ask you here just to talk about the foundation," Eva said, sitting on his lap.

"Oh? What else?"

"He has a long-standing dream," Eva teased, adjusting her posture.

"To be the leader?"

"You guessed it!"

"I’ve read Mr. Tom’s books. His dream is to make America great again. It’s an ambitious goal, and I admire him for it."

"Haha, he’s thinking about running for the next election. Do you think he stands a chance?"

Richard, feeling the warmth of her touch, fell silent. The current president had just been re-elected the previous year, with three years left in his term. By now, those with ambitions for that seat were already making moves.

Old Tom had shown his ambitions as far back as the ’90s. In 2000, he finally became a candidate for a minor party but withdrew from the race citing the bizarre reason of "not wanting to shake too many hands and risk getting sick."

Besides, his political stance was unstable, flip-flopping between the Democrats and Republicans based on convenience. He was, in essence, a political opportunist, with no solid experience in governance. If he wanted to succeed, he’d need the backing of powerful financial supporters.

Richard smirked. "Donald and I are friends. If he needs help, I’ll support him."

"He’ll be happy to hear that. But I don’t think he’ll win," Eva said, shaking her head slightly.

"Why not?"

"He's a businessman, not a politician, so it's hard for him to win the public's support."

Eva bit her lower lip, her brow furrowed slightly.

"It doesn’t matter. The White House has had all kinds—farmers, tailors, journalists, actors, and singers. Mr. Thompson isn’t that special. He still has a chance."

Richard quickly shook his leg as he spoke.

"Mmm-hmm~, honey, my dad says if you run, you’ve got a really, really big chance. He’s been saying that since 2001, back when you were just a boxing star.

And now you’ve become one of the top twenty richest people in the world. Mwah~ mwah~! Baby, you’re incredible, you’re amazing, I love you so much. I’ll be your woman forever."

Eva shouted excitedly.

Richard laughed heartily, standing up with her in his arms.

"Richard, you wanted to see me?"

In a Manhattan coffee shop, Uncle Frank took off his large-framed glasses and wiped them. He was dressed in a plain blue-gray casual outfit. Nothing about his clothes or appearance stood out, the kind of guy who’d blend into a crowd and be hard to pick out.

Richard looked him over, feeling something odd.

When he was younger, he’d thought Frank looked pretty decent, maybe inherited 50-60% of his mom’s good looks. But now, seeing him, he seemed more and more average—though, to be fair, not ugly.

Richard was grateful he’d chosen acting, where people got better-looking, over being a plain old agent, where you only got more ordinary.

"Richard, something wrong?" Frank asked, looking himself over.

"Nothing. I was just wondering, if Mom were still alive, would she have ended up looking as plain as you?"

"Pfft! You think I look plain?" Frank exclaimed, taken aback.

"Alright, maybe not plain, but you used to seem pretty cool. Now, you're just kind of... average."

Richard chuckled.

"Well, what do you expect? Look at how old I am. I’m in my fifties; it’s not exactly easy to stay cool. Plus, in my line of work, it’s better not to stand out. One reason I never pushed you to be an agent is that you’re too handsome—people would remember you."

"Haha, thanks for the compliment."

Richard took a sip of coffee. "Been busy lately?"

"Of course. Don’t let Manhattan's bright lights and hustle fool you. Underneath all that, murders, terrorist attacks, and spy activity are happening daily. When the cops can’t figure something out, it gets handed over to us at the FBI.

I cover a big region, so you can imagine how much there is to deal with. So, if you’ve got something to say, make it quick—you’re interrupting my work saving the world."

"Haha~ alright. How far are you from becoming the top guy at the FBI?"

Back in 2002, Frank had been third in command at the FBI's New York office. After some commendations, he became head of the office and spent half a year working at the Pentagon, tasked with counterterrorism. Richard never asked what his exact position was.

"Why do you ask? Did you get into trouble?"

Frank looked suspicious.

Richard’s face darkened. "Of course not. I’ve made some money in the past few years and want to get involved in something bigger."

"Oh, I know. You’re ranked 20th on the global rich list. Impressive, really.

When I saw the Forbes list, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. You, a super-rich guy? It’s unbelievable.

I had my people double-check to see if you were doing anything illegal. Thankfully, you’re clean, or else I might’ve had to arrest you myself."

Richard rubbed his forehead, feeling a little exasperated. "Frank, you’re too impartial. I wanted to ask if you’re interested in advancing your career. If you need funding, I can help."

"No need. I’m currently an assistant at the headquarters, ranked fifth in the entire system, and I’m the most senior. If things go as planned, I’ll be either number one or number two in the next term."

Frank spoke calmly.

"Sounds good. I hear Colin’s getting into politics?"

Colin Campbell, Richard's older cousin, had been teaching at Seattle University. This year, he became the administrative secretary of the state education department, eyeing a career as a public official like his mom.

"Yes, it’s his side job, helping him move up in the education system."

Frank explained.

Richard nodded slightly, then suddenly grew serious. "Frank, I’m thinking about running for President."

"What? Are you serious?"

Frank’s tone turned stern.

"Why not?"

Richard asked, lips curving slightly.

"Of course you can. Are you really going to run?"

"Alright, I was joking, just to lighten the mood.

Ever since I became wealthy, people have been trying to persuade me to support one candidate or another. They promise me all kinds of benefits if their side wins. I don’t really understand politics, so I wanted your advice."

"You’re not running?"

Frank seemed a bit disappointed.

Richard chuckled. "Me? A billionaire? And you think I’d want to become a public servant?"

"Money is just a numbers game. Real power, the kind that lets you control things and impact the entire world, that’s a different feeling altogether. It’s like dancing on the edge of a blade—something money can’t give you."

"Sounds dangerous. So, what should I do when people try to lobby me?"

Richard asked.

"Well, politics is every citizen’s birthright. The more capital you have, the more involved you can be.

You used to just cast your vote, but now you’re a top-tier capitalist. Supporting the right candidate is an investment that could help you profit from political moves and give you a bigger voice.

But these things are too complex to explain in a few words.

As the 12th richest man in the U.S., you should have experts on your legal or investment teams who understand this. If you don’t, you should hire some. They’ll give you the best advice."

Richard nodded thoughtfully and smiled. "Honestly, I wish you would run. I’d give you full support."

"Not happening. Unless World War III breaks out, there’s no way a spy will get to the top."

Frank shook his head.

Richard laughed. "Since you work so hard, I’m thinking of donating three helicopters to your office. How about that?"

"Haha, now that’s something we can accept. On behalf of all New York agents, thank you."

Frank shook Richard’s hand.

"You’re welcome!"

Richard smiled.

(End of Chapter)