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One Trillion Dollars

E-BookEPUB0 - No protectionE-Book
1042 Seiten
Englisch
Bastei Lübbeerschienen am15.08.20141. Aufl. 2014
What would you do if you were the richest person in the world overnight?

Yesterday John Fontanelli was just a pizza delivery guy in New York City. One day later he's the richest man in the world. One trillion dollars: $1,000,000,000,000! More money than anyone could imagine.

For generations the Vacchis, an old Italian family of lawyers and asset managers, had supervised the fortune as it grew over five hundred years, until one particular date that the benefactor had stipulated in his will. The youngest male descendant would be fated to oversee the fortune for the good of humanity.

John relishes his new life of luxury, rubbing elbows with royalty, buying up corporations, fielding a flood of beautiful women - until one day the phone rings, and a mysterious stranger tells the trillionaire that he knows what dirty secrets lie behind the fortune...

Bestselling author Andreas Eschbach's »One Trillion Dollars« is a thriller that pits morality and choice against the lust for material goods - at any cost.
This novel inspired the Paramount+ television series 'One Billion Dollars'.mehr

Produkt

KlappentextWhat would you do if you were the richest person in the world overnight?

Yesterday John Fontanelli was just a pizza delivery guy in New York City. One day later he's the richest man in the world. One trillion dollars: $1,000,000,000,000! More money than anyone could imagine.

For generations the Vacchis, an old Italian family of lawyers and asset managers, had supervised the fortune as it grew over five hundred years, until one particular date that the benefactor had stipulated in his will. The youngest male descendant would be fated to oversee the fortune for the good of humanity.

John relishes his new life of luxury, rubbing elbows with royalty, buying up corporations, fielding a flood of beautiful women - until one day the phone rings, and a mysterious stranger tells the trillionaire that he knows what dirty secrets lie behind the fortune...

Bestselling author Andreas Eschbach's »One Trillion Dollars« is a thriller that pits morality and choice against the lust for material goods - at any cost.
This novel inspired the Paramount+ television series 'One Billion Dollars'.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9783838753126
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format Hinweis0 - No protection
FormatFormat mit automatischem Seitenumbruch (reflowable)
Erscheinungsjahr2014
Erscheinungsdatum15.08.2014
Auflage1. Aufl. 2014
Seiten1042 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Artikel-Nr.2189628
Rubriken
Genre9200

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe
Prologue

IN FRONT OF THEM the double-winged doors finally swung open, and they entered a room filled with an almost heavenly light. The middle of the chamber was dominated by a large oval table made of dark wood. Two men stood in front of it, looking expectantly at them as they entered.

"Mr. Fontanelli," the young lawyer addressed John as he closed the door behind them. "Let me please introduce my partners to you." He gestured to the pair in front of the table. "First, my father, Gregorio Vacchi."

John reached out to shake hands with a stern looking man, whom he guessed to be in his mid-fifties. He wore a gray, single-breasted suit and a pair of thin-rimmed gold glasses. His attire and thinning hair made him resemble a typical bookkeeper. Indeed, it was very easy to imagine this man as a lawyer, perhaps specializing in tax laws, standing in a courtroom and dryly uttering paragraphs of law through his thin lips. His handshake felt cool, business-like, and he mumbled something like: "Pleased to meet you." Even though, he didn't look like the sort of man who knew the meaning of "pleased."

The other man was older. His unruly curly hair and bushy eyebrows made his face look a bit grim, yet more dynamic than the former's. He wore a dark blue double-breasted suit with a very conventional club tie and a neatly folded handkerchief in his left breast pocket. You could imagine him in a fancy bar, laughing as he celebrated a victory in a murder case, a glass of champagne in one hand and pinching waitresses' asses with the other. His handshake was firm, and he looked so intensely into John's eyes that it made him uncomfortable. His deep voice said, "Alberto Vacchi. I'm Eduardo's uncle."

Only now did John notice another person present in the room. Sitting in a wing-chair in front of a window was an old man. Though his eyes were closed it was clear he was not asleep; but rather as if he was too weary to have all his senses working at once. His wrinkled thin neck emerged from a soft shirt, covered by a gray sweater. He had a small silk pillow lying on his lap upon which his folded hands rested.

"The Padrone," Eduardo Vacchi said in a low tone of voice when he noticed who John was looking at. "That's my grandfather. As you see, we're a family firm."

John only nodded. He didn't really know what to say. He was shown a chair to sit on, on its own on one of the long sides of the conference table. Across from him on the other side of the table were four chairs with their backrests pressed against the table in neat fashion. Lying on the table in front of each chair were thin folders, the covers made of black leather with crests emblazoned on them.

"Would you like something to drink?" he was asked. "Coffee, mineral water?"

"Yes, coffee, please," he heard himself say. He had the same nervous feeling now as when he'd entered the lobby of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel only a short while ago.

Eduardo placed the coffee cups on the table, which had been sitting neatly and orderly on a small trolley. Next, he put the creamer and sugar dispensers on the table; all made of silver. He poured coffee for each of them and placed the pot next to John's cup. The three Vacchis sat down. Eduardo was seated to the right from John's point of view, Gregorio, his father, next to him, and to John's left sat Alberto, the uncle. The fourth chair remained empty.

There was silence, broken only by cream and sugar being poured into the cups and the stirring of their spoons. John stared at the wonderful grain of the reddish mahogany tabletop. That had to be wood from the roots - burl wood.

As John stirred his coffee with a heavy silver spoon, he furtively looked around him. Out the window - behind the three lawyers - was a grand, far-reaching view of New York. Sunlight danced between the concrete ravines of the skyscrapers and the East River sparkled a deep blue. Fine-spun salmon-pink curtains hung down on each side of the windows, which contrasted very well with the immaculate dark-red carpet and the snow-white walls. Unbelievable, John thought as he sipped his coffee, which tasted strong and robust, like the espresso his mom usually made for him.

Eduardo Vacchi opened the file that lay before him on the table. The sound the leather cover made seemed a signal to the start for the proceedings. John set his cup on the saucer and took a deep breath; he was ready.

"Mr. Fontanelli," the young lawyer said. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table and hands folded together. His voice didn't sound so welcoming anymore, but rather official. "I asked you to bring along a form of identification for this meeting, maybe a driver's license, a passport, or whatever. It's only for the sake of formalities, of course."

John nodded. "I've got my driver's license … one moment please." He hastily reached for his rear pocket and was startled to find nothing there. But then he remembered that he had stuck the license into the inside pocket of his jacket. With a hot, shaky hand he slid the card across the table. The lawyer took the license, glanced at it briefly, and then with a nod handed it to his father. Gregorio Vacchi, however, studied the driver's license so intently that it almost seemed as if he thought it might be a fake.

Eduardo gave a thin smile, "We also have identification documents with us." He pulled out two large very formal looking pieces of paper. "The members of the Vacchi family have been residents of Florence for several centuries, and for generations almost every male member has been a lawyer or trust manager. The first document substantiates this; the second one is an English translation of the first, authenticated by a notary public from the state of New York." He handed both papers to John.

John looked at them, a bit lost. The first document, stuck inside a clear plastic cover, seemed to be quite old. It was written in Italian of which John could only read maybe one out of every ten words. It was written on ancient gray paper, decorated with crests and had a whole collection of stamps and signatures on the bottom. The English translation, a neat laser-printed piece of paper, had the usual official stamps and signatures, and the text sounded equally confusing, being written in typically convoluted legal language; but it basically said what the young Vacchi lawyer had told him; as far as he could comprehend. He put the papers down on the table and folded his arms. One of his nostrils was twitching; he hoped nobody noticed.

Eduardo folded his hands together once more. John's driver's license was now being scrutinized by Alberto. He nodded his head satisfied and then pushed it into the middle of the table.

"Mr. Fontanelli, you are the heir to a significant fortune," Eduardo began again, once more in a formal tone of voice. "We are gathered here to announce to you the sum and the conditions for acceptance of the inheritance; in case you wish to accept it, we must explain what stipulations are necessary."

John nodded impatiently. "Err, yes - could you tell me who it is that died?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to hold back the answer to that question for the time being. It is a lengthy story. At any rate, it is not a member of your immediate family."

"And why am I inheriting something?"

"That cannot, as I said, be explained in one or two sentences. That is why I wish you to have just a little more patience. For the present moment the question is; you are supposed to inherit a large fortune. Do you want it?"

John laughed impulsively. "Okay, how much is it?"

"Over eighty thousand dollars."

"Did you say eighty thousand?"

"Yes, eighty thousand."

John leaned back and took a large gulp of air. Wow. Eighty … thousand … dollars! Man, oh man, no wonder there was all this fancy acting stuff! Eighty thousand dollars - that is a nice sum of money. All at once! He had to let that sink in first. That meant … that meant … he could go to college … easily, and without having to work a single hour for some stupid pizza delivery service, or some other poorly paid, stupid, mundane job. Eighty thousand … all at one time! Just like that! Unbelievable!

If he … okay, he'd have to watch out and not get carried away. He could stay at the same place, keep sharing an apartment with a few others. That was okay, nothing luxurious, but if he lived a thrifty life style … man, it was still enough to get a used car! Some nice clothes. This and that. Ha - no more worries!

"Not bad," he finally said. "So, what is it you want from me? If I'll take the money or not?"

"Yes."

"I've got a stupid question; is there a catch to this whole deal? Will I inherit something less nice along with it, or what?"

"No, you're inheriting money. If you want it you can have it and do with it as you wish."

John shook his head - he simply couldn't believe it. "Could you ever imagine me saying no? Could you ever imagine anyone saying no?"

The young lawyer raised his hands. "It is simply a formality. We are obliged to ask."

"All...
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