"Lend?!"
Richard's eyes widened in astonishment. He had no idea how to react. The boy had expected his father to give him a relatively small sum—one or two hundred thousand, perhaps. Give, not lend. But ten million…
"Yes, son, I'll lend it to you."
Gerald was clearly enjoying himself at the child's expense. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"How, Dad?" Richard asked.
He wanted to know exactly under what conditions the loan would be granted.
"Hmm…" The amused duke hid his smile behind a quiet chuckle. "Son, a savings account has been opened in your name. Since your birth, fifty thousand pounds has been transferred into it every month, and this will continue until you turn twenty-one. All of that money was meant for you once you came of age."
"At the moment, there are four and a half million pounds in that account. You may use that money, and I will add another five and a half million—but…"
"But?!" Richie leaned forward. His breathing quickened, and his palms grew damp with excitement. He waited anxiously for his father's verdict.
"But there is one condition," Gerald continued.
"What is it?!" Richard asked, barely containing himself.
The duke grinned and said, "Richie, by the time you turn twenty-one, there must be at least twelve million six hundred thousand pounds in that savings account."
"Uh…" Richie stammered, confused. "So… it turns out I'm borrowing from myself. Is that right?"
"No, son, you're borrowing from me," Gerald replied. "But you'll be repaying the money to yourself, because it was meant for you in the first place."
"Dad, if you've set that condition, there has to be something else," Richard said, looking at his father in bewilderment. "What if there's no money left in the account?"
"In that case, Richie," Gerald said evenly, "for nine years after you come of age, you won't receive a single penny! Live as you like. For nine years, you'll be the poorest Grosvenor in history."
Richard felt as though he'd been struck over the head with a dusty sack. He sat there, trying to process what he had just heard. And yet, at first, everything had seemed so promising…
The transmigrator felt increasingly certain that he had been right to think about building personal capital. He was only eight years old, and his father was already threatening to cut off his funding the moment he came of age.
No way! he thought. I have to take the ten million while it's being offered! Otherwise, later he might just give me a kick in the backside. I'm definitely not going to squander this money. Even though I didn't study economics very seriously in my past life, I remember quite a lot—and after studying with the economics professor, I've started to understand how things actually work.
Taking a deep breath, as if preparing to dive into deep water, Richard calmed himself and said on the exhale:
"Father, I agree."
"Have you thought this through, Richie?" Gerald studied the boy closely. "If you fail, you'll be left with nothing."
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Richard replied, quoting a well-known saying. "So yes, Dad, I've thought it through, and I agree to your terms."
"That's not all, Richie," Gerald added.
Here we go… Richard thought resignedly. New conditions—anything to avoid giving the kid money. Although it's not like I'm asking for pocket change to buy ice cream. We're talking more about buying the ice cream factory itself.
"So, Richie," continued the Sixth Duke of Westminster, "you will first undergo training at my company. You'll learn the ins and outs of financial work, and only if you handle everything properly and don't change your mind will you receive the ten million pounds."
"Dad, what a wonderful gift for finishing junior school!" Richard said sarcastically. "You're a real contender for the 'Best Father in the World' award… Who else would give their child an office job and lend them money?" He paused, then added thoughtfully, "Hmm… Dad, were there any Jews in our family?"
"Ha-ha-ha!" Gerald laughed good-naturedly. "I'm glad you're not giving up, son. Take a break—you'll start work the day after tomorrow."
Hmm… and he didn't reply…" Richie thought. "I'm starting to hfve some suspicions."
(End of Chapter)
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