[Chapter 275: No One Understands Seizing Opportunities Better Than Me]
"Dad! Daniel!"
Ivanka burst in with a cry of surprise, then froze in her tracks.
The scene in the living room was nothing like what she had expected. The gold-plated high-back chair Donald had been sitting in lay overturned on the expensive carpet. It was clear it had been knocked over in the chaos of someone standing up too forcefully.
The real estate tycoon, who usually boasted invincibility on TV, was now half-bent over, his hands trembling as he clung to Daniel's hand.
The scrutiny and arrogance that usually filled his small eyes had vanished completely. In their place was an almost manic worship and extreme reverence.
His expression resembled that of a man dying of thirst in the desert who suddenly stumbled upon a miracle.
"Mr. Cross... no, Great Master Cross!" Donald Trump's voice was hoarse but carried an unprecedented passion. "No one understands vision better than I do. I've met countless so-called experts, but you... you are a god walking among mortals! Everything you just showed me is the greatest miracle I've ever witnessed in my life!"
Despite Donald's fervor, Daniel remained calm and composed.
Donald heard noises at the door and whipped his head around, spotting Ivanka standing there in shock.
"Ivanka! Come here, quickly!"
Donald strode over and grabbed his daughter's arm, gripping it so tightly that Ivanka couldn't help but frown.
He pointed at Daniel with urgency and pride, as if showing off the crown jewel of his real estate empire.
"Listen, my daughter, no one understands you better than I do. You're not only the most outstanding woman in New York; you also have the smartest mind and the most perfect looks in the world."
He looked back at Daniel with extreme humility, even a hint of fawning.
"Mr. Cross! Ivanka is the most precious treasure of the Trump family. If you're willing, let her be your wife. This will be the most brilliant and correct decision you'll ever make! No one else compares -- no one!"
Ivanka was completely stunned.
Her mouth hung open, and her blue eyes were filled with disbelief and confusion.
Half an hour ago, her father had been scrutinizing Daniel like some kind of charlatan from a back-alley carnival.
How had she become a "free gift" he was so eager to throw into the bargain after just a few minutes of talking behind closed doors?
And this tone, this look -- her father was actually begging the other man to marry her?
Daniel rubbed his chin, glancing from the fanatical Donald Trump to the dazed Ivanka, his expression growing just as odd.
To avoid any trouble, he had only demonstrated a few simple spells -- nothing flashy.
He had also mentioned the name of the reality show he'd be participating in next year, and how successful it was predicted to be.
But it was clear Donald's psychological defenses had crumbled far more thoroughly than Daniel had expected.
In Donald's eyes, this enormous ability to see into the future was worth more than billions of dollars.
"Ahem, Mr. Trump, let's talk about this later." Daniel stood up, breaking the awkward silence. "Now that the misunderstanding's cleared up, I'll be heading back."
"I'll see you out! Personally!"
Donald Trump scurried to the door and even took the initiative to pull it open for Daniel.
...
As they stepped out of the apartment, Ivanka remained frozen in the middle of the living room.
She watched her father chatter like a little lackey by Daniel's side about which New York restaurant had the best steak, which golf course was the most private.
Ivanka took a deep breath and looked down at the bracelet on her wrist.
This guy... what on earth did he do to her Dad?
...
The elevator doors slowly opened on the top floor.
Donald Trump beamed as he held the elevator for Daniel.
He was still boasting loudly about his spectacular Florida estate. He even hinted that, if Daniel wanted, he could transfer a villa there into his name at any time.
Before stepping into the elevator, Daniel suddenly stopped.
He turned around, his gaze sharp and piercing as he looked directly into Donald's shrewd, blinking eyes.
"Mr. Trump, I feel it's necessary to tell you something before I leave."
Daniel's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that struck straight to the heart.
Donald blinked, momentarily taken aback, then immediately adopted a posture of deep respect.
"Please speak, Great Master. No one understands listening to your teachings better than I do."
Daniel glanced at the luxurious corridor decorations and said calmly, "If I may be blunt, all your real estate development, hotel management -- even that reality show you're so proud of... In my eyes, it's just small-time play. A career of this scale simply doesn't match your destiny."
Donald Trump's fawning expression froze instantly.
He blinked, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.
"Small-time play? Mr. Cross, I'm a billionaire. My name's on some of the most prominent buildings in New York. My TV show pulls in millions of viewers. You call this... small-time play?"
As a man steeped in narcissism, convinced of his mastery of success, Donald Trump's first instinct was to argue back.
But when he looked into Daniel's deep, unblinking eyes -- eyes that seemed able to pierce the very sky -- he swallowed the words.
The corner of Daniel's mouth curled into a subtle, knowing smile. His tone was lofty.
"Of course it's small-time play. Money is the most mediocre of worldly pursuits. You... you should be aiming for something greater. For example, controlling this country."
Boom.
Donald felt as if he'd been struck by a five-layer thunderclap.
His body stiffened instantly.
That habitual business confidence shattered into fragments in an instant.
He stood there stunned, mouth slightly open, pupils constricted violently from shock.
Controlling this country?
If anyone else had said that, Donald Trump would have dismissed it as the ramblings of a lunatic -- or a con man trying to swindle him.
But moments ago, he had witnessed Daniel's methods with his own eyes. He had heard Daniel's terrifyingly accurate predictions of the career trends awaiting him in the coming years.
Faced with such power, those words pressed down on him like a suffocating weight.
It took Donald Trump a full thirty seconds to compose himself.
His breathing grew heavy, and an excited flush crept over his aged skin.
Suddenly, he stepped forward and grabbed Daniel's arms tightly.
His grip was startlingly strong, and his eyes burned with fanatic devotion.
"Is what you said true? Mr. Cross! Great Master Cross! Is... this really my destiny?"
Daniel subtly pulled his arms away, his expression calm as a gentle breeze.
"Fate is right there; it depends on whether you can seize it."
"I can! No one understands seizing opportunities better than me!"
Donald Trump practically danced with joy, then suddenly spun around and let out a roar.
"Checkbook! Get my checkbook! Now! Immediately!"
In less than a minute, an assistant dashed back, clutching a checkbook.
Donald snatched the pen and began scribbling checks so fast they left afterimages.
*****
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