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I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 178: Aftermath
BREAKING NEWS
The scene outside the federal courthouse was pure electricity—chaotic, alive, and utterly historic.
A young reporter stood near the barricades, suit slightly ruffled, his tie blowing sideways in the sharp wind. The energy around him was palpable, as if the very ground beneath the building pulsed with the aftershock of what had just occurred inside.
"The case of the decade is over—it's over!" he exclaimed breathlessly, practically shouting over the noise behind him. "The court has made its ruling!"
He looked like he wanted to say more—like he had a hundred hot takes lined up—but before he could, the courtroom doors flung open behind him. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
Like a dam had burst, a wave of people came rushing out.
Phones clutched tightly in their hands, their eyes glued to their screens, some were walking fast, others full-on sprinting. Many weren't even speaking—they were texting, calling, furiously typing—trying to get ahead of the news. Limousines, sedans, and motorcades clogged the entrance, double-parked in every direction as engines roared and drivers shouted orders over handheld radios.
The reporter turned slightly, holding his earpiece. "Everyone is still reeling from the ruling that was just made," he said, his voice nearly drowned out by the chaos. "This just shows the magnitude of what went on inside."
As the camera panned across the sidewalk, it captured a sea of powerful faces in various states of distress. Some were familiar to anyone who'd even glanced at a newspaper:
"That's Stephen Collman of the Federal Reserve—he's yelling into his phone. And that over there—yes, that's Maria Delacroix, CEO of Argentum Capital. And look! Senator Langford from Texas, flanked by aides. He looks furious. There's also Tyler Greaves from Goldman Roth, and right behind him, Frances Bellamy, the tech reform senator. And—wait—is that Thomas K. Luther from the U.S. Chamber of Commerce? My God—these are the people who run the American economy, and they're all... well, let's just say they're not taking this lightly."
A few were barking into phones, others motioning for their drivers. Security details pushed people aside with firm hands, clearing paths. Helicopters hovered above. Drones zoomed by, cameras blinking red.
Reporters from every major network were shouting questions, arms raised with mics extended. Cameramen jockeyed for the clearest shots. Flashbulbs fired in bursts.
The MSNBC reporter held his ground on the edge of the madness, separated from the primary crowd by one determined security guard who had clearly had enough. Reporters shoved, spectators yelled, and sirens wailed faintly in the background.
He pushed forward slightly, shouting through the noise. "Senator Langford! Senator Langford, your thoughts on the ruling? Mr. Collman! Can we get a word—!"
But no one stopped. They didn't even turn their heads. The reporter looked back at his cameraman, who was beginning to panic.
"Jack, let's go," the cameraman muttered under his breath. "This place is insane. I can't hold the shot if we get pushed again."
"I know, I know," the reporter replied, distracted, his eyes scanning the crowd.
Then—he saw her.
His breath caught. "Wait—Governor Hayes! Governor Hayes!" he shouted suddenly, voice desperate and hoarse from the yelling. "Governor Hayes—!"
The camera jerked slightly as it tried to follow his sudden movement.
Through the crowd, there she was.
Governor Laura Hayes of New York, unmistakable in a cream blazer, surrounded by no less than four personal aides and six security officers. She was moving fast, lips tight, eyes forward—until she turned. Briefly. She looked toward the reporter.
He saw it. His eyes widened. "Governor Hayes! I'm Michael Carroway from MSNBC! Governor! I'm with MSNBC!"
And then—miraculously—she stopped.
The crowd paused for the briefest second. Her security detail pivoted around her, forming a loose circle. A police officer parted the crowd enough for the reporter to step forward.
Michael didn't waste a second. Adjusting his posture, straightening his jacket, he turned to the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, Governor Laura Hayes of New York State is here. She's been in D.C. for over three weeks now, personally involved in monitoring this case. Given that Blackwell Investments is a New York-registered corporation, the Governor has a direct political and regulatory stake. She has been openly critical of Alexander Blackwell, calling for public oversight, and even accusing him of endangering New York's economic stability. This moment—this ruling—it has massive implications for her state and beyond."
He turned back, and there she was, standing directly in front of the camera now.
Poised. Composed. But her eyes—sharp as blades.
Michael stepped forward, mic raised, voice lowered now—measured, respectful, yet electrified by the magnitude of the moment.
"Governor Hayes," he said, "your reaction to the ruling, and what this means for Blackwell Investments, for New York... and for the nation?"
Governor Laura Hayes let out a vibrant laugh as the mic hovered near her lips.
"Wow! We going straight at it, are we?" she said, smiling widely, clearly amused by the reporter's directness.
The young reporter laughed awkwardly, fumbling his words as if caught off guard. "Sorry, Miss Governor, it's just—"
She cut him off, laughing again, shaking her head lightly. "It's fine. It's fine. I get you. I understand."
Then, she turned toward the camera, eyes focused, voice rising with both passion and precision.
"Well," she began, the single word slicing through the noise around them. "I believe Judge Wexler is a brilliant mind—one of the finest this country has produced. He did what he could do best with what he was given. He's a good man. A great man."
She paused, scanning the crowd briefly, then leaned ever so slightly toward the microphone, her voice now layered with conviction.
"But if anyone is at fault here, it isn't him. It's the laws of this country—and the morality behind those laws—that need to be questioned. We live in a nation where the system is designed to protect the top one percent. A country that coddles its billionaires, bends rules for its oligarchs, and dresses up corporate impunity as economic freedom."
A hush fell over the nearby media circle as more cameras turned her way.
"This ruling," she continued, eyes flashing, "is not a triumph of justice—it's the product of a capitalism that has run amok. A system we've allowed to metastasize—unchecked, unregulated, and unbothered by the consequences of its own excess. And now, we're all paying the price."
The reporter blinked, almost stunned by the power in her delivery. He cleared his throat, then asked, "That's an interesting point, Governor. And what of your personal opinion on this ruling? More importantly, how does this affect New York State, given that Blackwell Investments was one of our biggest companies?"
She nodded solemnly. "Well, this is a massive loss for us. We can't lie about that. Jobs, taxes, influence—it's a blow."
Then she smiled again, slipping into a slightly cheekier tone as she added, "But you know us New Yorkers. We don't go down easy."
She leaned in again, grinning.
"We might get knocked, but we bounce back faster than a subway rat with a slice of pizza. Fuggedaboutit."
The crowd chuckled. Even the reporter cracked a genuine smile.
"But in all seriousness," she continued, "New York is bigger than any one company—no matter how massive. This moment sets a precedent. These global corporations—these unchecked powers—they are not above us. And while Blackwell may leave, as they sell their shares and bleed their holdings, I will make damn sure they bleed every penny this state is owed."
Her eyes were hard now, her tone resolute.
"This is not the end. This is the start of holding giants accountable. We will make an example of this—not out of spite, but out of duty."
She took a slight breath.
"And as for my personal opinion on this—"
But before she could finish, a man in a gray suit rushed up to her, speaking quickly into her ear while shielding her face with his hand. She leaned in, listening carefully, nodding once. Her expression changed—gone was the electric energy and confident smirk.
She looked back at the reporter, her voice low, calm, and full of weight.
"I'm sorry. I have to leave now."
Before another word could be said, her security stepped in, expertly forming a human wall as she turned and walked briskly toward a waiting black SUV.
"Madam Governor! Madam Governor, what about the future legal implications for transnational corporate immunity in New York?!" the reporter shouted—his last chance at a smart follow-up.
She didn't turn back. She entered the car, and the door slammed shut.
The reporter sighed, adjusting his jacket as he turned back toward the camera.
"Well, people, that was Governor Laura Hayes of New York, giving us her powerful reaction to today's ruling, and the implications it could have—" He paused, distracted, then noticed movement on the edge of the scene. "Hold on—is that... Ambassador—AMBASSADOR NASSER!"
He began moving quickly, weaving through reporters and security, raising his voice. "Ambassador Nasser! MSNBC, sir! Ambassador!"
There, dressed in a flowing white thobe and golden bisht, was Saudi Ambassador Fahd Nasser, striding forward with several bodyguards at his flanks. His face was composed but firm, unreadable.
The reporter reached him, desperate to get his attention, and lightly tugged at the edge of his robe.
The ambassador stopped abruptly.
He turned, his voice booming.
"Who touched me? Who was that?!"
His security team fanned out immediately, scanning for a threat. The reporter raised both hands.
"I'm sorry! I'm Michael Carroway from MSNBC. I only wanted your reaction to the ruling—what this means for Saudi Arabia now that Blackwell Investments will officially become a Saudi company—"
The ambassador's face twisted into a scowl. He stepped forward.
"First of all, Blackwell Investments is already a Saudi company. This entire trial—this circus—was a hoax and a disgrace!"
He looked the reporter up and down with thinly veiled disgust.
"Just like you—so unprofessional. You dare put your filthy hands on my garments?"
Then he shouted in Arabic, voice raised in fury:
"أين الاحترام؟ هذا ليس رجل محترم، هذا مهرج!"
(Where is the respect? This is not a gentleman, this is a clown!)
"لا تلمس ثوبي مرة أخرى! هذا سلوك همجي!"
(Don't ever touch my robe again! This is barbaric behavior!)
"أنتم لا تعرفون الأدب ولا تعرفون الشرف!"
(You people have no manners and no honor!)
With a final glare, he turned sharply, barking something else in Arabic as his men surrounded him and ushered him to a waiting Mercedes SUV.
"تفو عليكم جميعًا!"
(Curse you all!)
The car door shut hard, and within seconds, it sped off, black-tinted windows glinting under the city lights.
The reporter, stunned, blinked at the camera.
"Ehm... that was the Saudi Ambassador to the United States... and I guess he didn't like the trial—or being touched."
The cameraman stifled a laugh. The reporter cracked a nervous chuckle.
"Well... we'll still be trying to speak with other officials and representatives. The main players from the courtroom are still inside. We'll bring you their reactions as they come out."
He gave a quick glance off-camera, then returned to the lens with practiced charm.
"Until then, ladies and gentlemen—this is Michael Carroway, MSNBC, live from the U.S. District Courthouse in D.C., handing it back to you in the studio. Stay with us."
The screen cut away just as more commotion stirred behind him.
WHILE THAT WAS HAPPENING ON-SITE…
The online world was far from calm.
This wasn't just news for the suits and the senators.No.This was everyone's business now.
ONLINE REACTIONS (TWEETS, THREADS, AND COMMENTS):
@MAD_DRAGON
This case is INSANE but I'm still confused about that ruling.Did the judge side with Desmond…or the old lady?? Someone explain it to me like I'm five.#BlackwellTrial #WexlerVerdict
@gym1923
Alexander's mom is so hot.Like…60??? How can you be evil and have a mom like THAT??This world is weird.#MILFAlert #BlackwellCase
@Elderblood
The ambassador was RIGHT.This trial is a DISGRACE. Not because of cloth-touching nonsense, but because they called it the "Trial of the Century" over Obergefell v. Hodges—which gave people the right to love freely—and over Roe v. Wade, which protected women's bodies and rights.But now?Two gazillionaires throwing hands over money.This is peak American rot.#NotMyTrialOfTheCentury #WexlerWeak
@Joke_tuase
Side note—did anyone else see Governor Hayes today??That woman is giving. That speech?? That fire?? That suit??Yeah she's got my vote, my tax returns, and my whole future.#Reelection #MyGovernor #PresidentHayes2028
@L_MR
Wait.So does this mean Alexander gets his shares BACK now that the company's going to Saudi Arabia??Is that how this works???CRIMINALS getting their way???We're done as a country.#ThisCantBeReal #BlackwellShares
@VipeXGaming
America and New York are about to EAT so good.Blackwell bleeding out their assets??Those taxes are gonna hit like Crack.#RunThemPockets #NYCUp
@VisineAnt
Bro.This whole Blackwell thing dropped BEFORE GTA 6 and somehow has more drama, plot twists, AND explosions 💀💀💀We got governors cookin', ambassadors wildin', billionaires cryin', and still no trailer drop.This country's dropping DLCs before Rockstar does.#BlackwellSaga #GT6WhereYouAt #AmericaTheSeries
@Samuel_Ndemuweda
You guys think America is corrupt?LMFAO.Come to Nigeria, we'll show you Olympic-level corruption.This is baby food compared to what our politicians do.#NaijaNoDeyCarryLast
@kristoffer_santos
I've respected Judge Wexler for years but this? This was weak.You can't play both sides when the world is watching.Be a judge, not a referee.I'm saying this as someone who once believed in his integrity—This ruling embarrassed the entire Supreme Court legacy.#Disappointed #JusticeWexler
And across all platforms, one theme was loud and clear:Nobody agreed.Not even the people who thought they did.
The country wasn't just watching history.It was arguing with it.Live.Loud.And in the comments section.
While the public was also getting in on the action, the aftermath wasn't over.In fact, it was only just beginning.