From Bullets To Billions

Chapter 330: The Name at the Table

Being brought up in the Stern household meant there was always a certain level of etiquette expected, a rigid standard of manners to be upheld at all times. Every heir, from the youngest to the oldest, was reminded of it constantly. Even Max remembered the numerous times Aron had drilled those expectations into him, everything from how to walk into a room, to how to hold a glass, to how to speak and when to remain silent.

The irony was not lost on him. Dennis, their grandfather, had come from humble beginnings. He was not born into wealth, not raised with luxury. So how was it, Max wondered, that a man like that could demand such flawless behavior from his descendants? Had money really changed Dennis into someone who demanded perfection from those beneath him?

According to Aron, there was a reason for it, a reason that had little to do with Dennis personally and more to do with the way he viewed the world. Aron once told him bluntly that Dennis believed separation was what defined humanity. Just as humans and monkeys shared nearly all of their DNA, yet a small separation of traits created a gulf between animals and man, Dennis believed there was an equivalent separation between the wealthy and the rest of the world.

To Dennis, those differences had to be maintained, and the traditions of the Sterns were the way to maintain them. If the heirs did not uphold the rules, if they failed to embody that separation, then they were no different from the ordinary folk outside the mansion gates.

Max didn’t know if he agreed with any of that. But regardless of what he felt about Dennis’s worldview, the truth was simple: the Stern heirs had been raised on these values, and that meant Max was expected to know them as well.

Which was why Chad, spitting champagne across the table and coughing into his sleeve, was such a shocking disturbance. It wasn’t simply that he had made a mess; it was that he had broken the unspoken rule of composure.

”I’m sorry,” Chad managed, quickly covering his mouth with his arm and coughing into it. ”I greatly apologize. The drink went down the wrong pipe, and I had to react. Again, I really am sorry.”

Dennis did not comment on the matter. Outwardly, he allowed it to pass as if it were nothing but a harmless mishap. His expression gave no hint of anger, no cutting remark. But that wasn’t because he excused the action. The real reason was far more troubling: he had not expected to hear that name at the dining table.

Chad’s mind, however, was racing with panic. The Bloodline Group... A venture capitalist firm? What the hell is going on? What has Max been doing?

Meanwhile, Max sat silently, his mind turning back to a conversation he had once had with Warma. He remembered it clearly because Warma had a way of explaining things in blunt, unavoidable terms.

As the Bloodline businesses grew, merchandise, gyms, restaurants, courier services, the profits had surged. With the profits came something else: taxes. Huge, unavoidable tax bills. Warma had warned him that no matter how much they tried to minimize their liabilities, some taxes simply had to be paid. After all, even Al Capone had been caught for tax evasion, not for his other crimes.

The solution, Warma had suggested, was to funnel the profits into investments. If they invested in other companies through a venture capitalist arm of the Bloodline Group, the money could be written off as a tax expense. In return, they would hold shares in those companies. A win-win arrangement.

It had already been tested. The VC arm of the Bloodline Group held shares in Sam’s parents’ restaurant and, most notably, in the Curts family’s boba tea business. The logic was simple. They invested, gained influence, and turned profits while protecting themselves from excessive taxation.

Which was why, as Max listened to Bobo speak, the pieces clicked into place. The biotech company she was boasting about? The venture firm that had backed them? It was his Bloodline Group.

Still, Bobo was a little wrong in her narrative. The resurgence of the Curts’ boba tea business had not been the result of Bloodline’s investment. That success had been thanks to Sheri herself.

When the price of tapioca balls had suddenly surged, the company’s cash flow had collapsed. They had been on the brink of failure, and no one was willing to lend them money. Yet Sheri had been clever. She had launched small promotional campaigns, giving away free boba tea to schools, letting students taste it without asking for anything in return. The gamble worked. Photos spread online, word of mouth exploded, and once the tapioca issue was resolved, demand came roaring back.

Max had played only the smallest hand in that recovery, asking the girls from Seaton to share photos and posts about the boba shop. It wasn’t much, but because he owned a part of the business, he had seen no reason not to give it a little push. In turn, his shares had grown more valuable as the company stabilized.

With that first investment proving successful, and so closely linked to a Stern family member, it made sense that Bobo would lean toward Bloodline for further support.

Max leaned back, keeping his expression unreadable as thoughts churned beneath the surface. This is a good thing. If the Bloodline Group invests in her biotech work, we’ll gain ownership. Control. We can guide the company’s direction quietly. And maybe, piece by piece, I can increase our shares until Bobo herself doesn’t even realize how much influence we hold.

He allowed himself the faintest shadow of a smile. I brought Chad to my side. The other Stern heirs will be harder to control, but if I can turn their businesses into my footholds, then even they may have no choice but to move closer to me. When the time comes, perhaps even Bobo will join me without realizing it.

Max never planned to tear his relatives down one by one. That had never been the goal. But he couldn’t deny that the thought of slowly bending them into his orbit brought him a sense of security.

Across the table, Chad sat rigidly, his thoughts tangled. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Just what has Max been doing this entire time? How long has he been planning all of this, working behind the scenes? None of the family members have any idea who they are dealing with.

And only now, Chad realized with a chill, was he beginning to discover it himself.