First Meeting with Roosevelt

"We've arrived, sir."

After passing the security check by the guards on either side of the gates, the car drove into the estate.

The place was already packed with vehicles—Cadillacs, Lincolns, Packards, and several Rolls-Royces.

The moment he stepped out of the car, a cold wind struck him head-on, carrying the Hudson River's distinctive dampness. Feilan adjusted his suit and walked into the hall.

The hall was warm, its air mingling the scents of cigars, perfume, alcohol, and more.

The men wore crisp black evening suits; the women were wrapped in heavy yet luxurious furs. They gathered in twos and threes, chatting and laughing.

Feilan's gaze swept across the crowd, and then he saw the true core of power.

John D. Rockefeller Jr., fifty-eight years old, a man who controlled the lifeblood of America's oil.

J. P. Morgan Jr., helmsman of a financial dynasty, a few years younger than Rockefeller, with a meticulously trimmed gray-white beard. His Morgan financial syndicate was the heart of Wall Street, and in 1907, he had single-handedly averted a financial crisis.

Beside him stood Andrew Mellon, Treasury Secretary of the Hoover Administration and also a titan of aluminum, oil, and banking. This seventy-seven-year-old man was about to leave office, but his wealth and influence would not vanish with his position.

There were also representatives of the DuPont family, the grandson of railroad magnate Vanderbilt, Chicago meatpacking tycoons...

"Go ahead and laugh now. Soon enough, you'll find out what kind of 'devil' you chose!"

A cold smile rose in Feilan's heart.

As a historian, whenever he turned to this part of history, he always wanted to laugh.

The Roosevelt Family's true rise had begun with Theodore Roosevelt—the "Teddy" whose face had been carved onto Mount Rushmore, who led American forces to defeat Spain, and who pushed the United States onto the world stage.

His prestige had paved the Roosevelt Family's road toward becoming a top-tier political dynasty.

Yet even so, it had not been enough to push a younger relative afflicted with polio, who needed a wheelchair to get around, into the White House.

The greatest forces behind him had actually been Morgan, Rockefeller, DuPont... families like them.

As for why they had pushed Roosevelt so strongly?

The reason was simple: Roosevelt's wife, Eleanor, came from a distinguished family. Her own family belonged to the capitalist class as well.

In the eyes of these tycoons, a president who had married a capitalist's daughter would surely understand the rules of the game and look after his own people.

What they had not expected was that after Roosevelt took office, his first heavy blow would crash down upon the banking system, followed by securities regulation, public works, labor rights, wealth taxes...

Every blow landed squarely on the capitalists' ribs.

The shrewdest people in the world had personally chosen their own gravedigger.

"Feilan."

A voice came from the side.

Feilan turned his head. A woman in her early thirties, dressed in a deep blue velvet gown, was walking toward him.

"Hey, Sister Helen."

"Don't stand around here. Come with me."

Feilan followed her to the area on the right side of the hall.

A large number of Roosevelt Family members had gathered there. It was the family's exclusive area.

Feilan's gaze passed over them. He had seen most of these people in archives from later generations—the core members of the Hyde Park branch, as well as collateral relatives from the Oyster Bay branch.

Looking at these proud family members before him, Feilan could not help feeling a trace of melancholy.

They must have been filled with hope at this moment.

After all, the family had already produced two presidents. Theodore Roosevelt had blazed the trail, and Franklin D. Roosevelt was about to reach the summit. Perhaps one day, there would be a third, a fourth...

But they could never have imagined that Roosevelt's blows against capital would be so ruthless that, after his death, the entire capitalist class would reach a consensus: a second Roosevelt must never be allowed to appear!

So the laws were amended, the rules on political donations were reshaped, the media was controlled, and regulatory agencies were infiltrated.

And just like that, this once-glorious family was shut out of the highest seat of power by the capitalists' invisible hand.

By the twenty-first century, the Roosevelt Family had long existed in name only...

"Helen, why did you bring him here?"

Taddy Roosevelt's voice drew the attention of the Roosevelt Family members.

When they saw that it was Feilan, though none spoke up directly in agreement, their eyes were plainly filled with displeasure and rejection.

In Western high society, an illegitimate child was not merely a family stain, but an unstable factor in inheritance rights, social connections, and political alliances.

They were like Jon Snow in A Song of Ice and Fire—tolerated, but never truly accepted.

Helen kept her voice as steady as possible. "Calm down, Taddy. I had a reason for bringing him here today."

"I don't care what the reason is..."

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Before Taddy could finish, applause surged through the main hall like a tide, followed by waves of cheers.

Everyone's attention was instantly drawn over.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea.

The star of today had appeared.

He wore a dark gray suit, a white shirt, and a red tie. He had on those iconic pince-nez glasses, his chin slightly raised, and that enormously infectious smile blooming across his face.

As he was pushed forward, he extended his right hand to shake hands with the guests along the way. The wheelchair did not diminish his presence; instead, it seemed to become a kind of throne.

Feilan's breathing quickened.

This was the man he had spent half his life studying.

This was the man who, on March 4, 1933, told the entire nation: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

This was the man who had faced the abyss of the Great Depression, the obstruction of the Supreme Court, and the frenzied counterattacks of conservatives within his own party and capitalist magnates, yet had never stopped moving forward!

By the time his thoughts settled, Roosevelt had already greeted the guests and arrived at the gathering place of the family members.

"Anna, I heard you've been trying your hand at writing? Excellent. This is a great age. I hope you'll use your pen to record it well."

"Sean, while serving in the military, you must remain clear-headed at all times. What you protect are countless families across the United States."

"..."

The wheelchair turned and finally stopped in front of Feilan.

Roosevelt looked up. The blue eyes behind his pince-nez carried their usual warmth, but also the faintest trace of puzzlement.

Helen stepped forward half a pace at just the right moment. "Uncle Franklin, this is Feilan."

"Feilan..."

Roosevelt repeated softly, one brow lifting slightly. Then that infectious smile spread across his face. "Good heavens, child. The last time I saw you, you were still a shy boy no taller than the armrest of my wheelchair. Look at you now. Your father would surely be proud to see you standing so tall."

The warmth Roosevelt showed as an elder eased Feilan's heart. With a respectful bearing, he replied, "Uncle Franklin, congratulations on your great victory."