《Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!》


 Chapter 1: Dying Like a Dog

    Click.


    The gentle sound of a keyhole sang that early afternoon as Darren Steele stepped through the front door of a penthouse apartment.


    In his hands was a cardboard box containing his belongings from his office, and on his face was a depressed frown.


    Darren had just been fired from his job as a financial assistant in Smithers Group, one of the most powerful companies in the state.


    Who had fired him? None other than his girlfriend''s father, Gareth Smithers. The same girlfriend who he shared this penthouse apartment with.


    Darren adjusted a vase on the table and placed the box beside it. He glanced around, hoping to find Lily in the living room, watching Netflix.


    He had prayed that she had been told already, maybe by a job colleague or even her father. That way he could come back home to her solacing arms and he wouldn''t have to break the news to her himself.


    However, this was very different from what he expected to happen. The air felt wrong, everything was silent and uncomfortable.


    ''Did she go out with her friends?'' Darren thought, looking up the stairs. That was when he heard the faint sound of laughter coming from up there.


    "Lily?" Darren called, taking off his office ID that he had forgotten to hand over and throwing it into the box.


    No response.


    He climbed the stairs cautiously, two at a time, listening to the continuous laughter. He quickly recognized the laughter as Lily''s. Was she on a call?


    No. Everything felt too wrong for it to be that easy.


    Darren moved toward the bedroom, and with each step, his heart thudded louder. The door was slightly ajar, so he pushed it open, and then... he froze.


    The sight before him stole the air from his lungs.


    There she was, his Lily, in the arms of another man. And it could not be any other man, why couldn''t it be any other man? It had to be Tyler Mooney.


    He was the son of Archibald Mooney, CEO of the Moon Enterprise, the same boy who had bullied him through highschool and then again at college.


    He was on Darren''s bed, his shirt was undone, and Lily was draped across his chest while Tyler wrapped his arms around her as if she were his prize.


    He also had a smug grin on his face, looking straight at Darren like he had been expecting him.


    "Well, well," Tyler drawled. "Looks like the dog found his way home."


    Lily turned around and her eyes widened. "Darren!" She immediately pulled away from Tyler, wrapping the bedsheet around herself.


    Darren was still frozen, it felt like his brain had been turned off and his whole life was tipped over, crashing right in front of him. "Wha¡ª What were you about to do just now?" he stuttered a question.


    Tyler leaned back casually, letting out a mocking laughter. "What do you think? I''ll give you a hint, dog. It''s nothing PG! Ha ha!"


    He let out a happy sigh and sat up, resting both arms on his knees. "This sucks for you. You walked in at the wrong moment, pal."


    Darren chose to ignore him, and shifted his gaze to Lily. "Lily..." his voice cracked. "Your father just fired me. I came here¡ª" He choked on his words. "What are you doing with him?"


    Lily adjusted the sheets, but continued to avoid Darren''s gaze. "Darren, let''s not make this harder than it needs to be."


    "What?" Darren''s voice rose. "Harder than it... What are you saying right now?"


    "I''m saying it''s over," Lily said firmly, finally finding the courage to meet his eyes. "This... this isn''t working."


    "It''s not working?" Disbelief trembled in Darren''s voice. "You''re cheating on me in our home, and you have the audacity to tell me it''s not working?"


    Tyler chuckled, standing up. "Relax, champ. She''s upgrading. I mean, can you blame her?" He gestured to himself smugly.


    "Upgrade?" Darren''s fists clenched. "Lily, is that what this is? You''re leaving me for this... this piece of shit?"


    Tyler grimaced. "Who are you calling a piece of shit, dog?"


    He attempted to attack Darren, but Lily came in between them quickly, using her hand to hold Darren back. "Darren, no!"


    The bedsheet slipped and her half naked body was exposed. It didn''t matter now, no one was giving it any attention, and both of these men had seen her naked at this point.


    Lily turned to Darren, whose eyes were red with rage and pain.


    "Darren! Tyler is someone who can give me the life I want," she said to him. "I mean, he''s the son of Archibald Mooney. Do you know what that means for my father''s company? For me? He''s everything you''re not and I don''t think you ever will never be, Darren. He''s ambitious. Powerful. Worthwhile."


    Gosh, those words stung! Darren felt the sting of them like a blade to his chest. His mind reeled, and his heart screamed. He had loved her. Trusted her. Everything he did was simply and only for her.


    Darren nodded his head, and chuckled bitterly. "Everything I''m not, eh? That''s one way to look at it. Another way is to just admit that you''re a slut."


    "You bastard!" Tyler reached for him again but Lily held him back.


    "This is your father''s doing, isn''t it!" Darren said bitterly. "He''s hated me from the start. Always thought I wasn''t good enough for his precious daughter. Fired me, threw me out like trash, and now he''s parading this jackass in front of you like some perfect suitor."


    "Call me a jackass again!" Tyler''s eyes flashed with a warning. "I dare you!"


    Darren looked at Tyler with the eyes of a crazed man with nothing left to lose. "Jack... Ass."


    "Ngh!" Fury boiled over, Tyler pushed Lily out of the way and swung a fist at Darren.


    It connected with his jaw, but Darren''s retaliation punch was struck harder and stronger, causing Tyler to stumble backwards.


    As Darren drew closer to press the advantage, a burly security guard appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Darren and slamming him against the wall.


    "Urkkkh!" Darren groaned in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. As he laid there, Lily watched him with a look of guilt on her face, Tyler crouched in front of him, petting his jaw and smirking .


    "You don''t get it, do you? In this world, all that matters is power and money. Money buys you the power, and I''ve got plenty of money. You? You have nothing. You don''t even have a girlfriend anymore! Ha! Ha! Ha!!" he laughed villainously.


    "You''re just a nobody, Darren!" he glared into Darren''s eyes and said. "A nobody with some numbers and a sad little obsession with crypto. Pathetic."


    Darren glared up at him, his eyes burning with hatred. He turned to Lily, but she avoided his gaze again, her expression showing guilt and resolve.


    "This is what happens when you overreach," Tyler continued, his tone almost gleeful. "Know your place, dog!"


    Darren groaned, but spoke once again. "I''m... ugh... surprised you can still smile after I punched you so hard."


    Tyler looked at him and smirked, nodding his head. "Darren Steele. You just don''t know... ngh!" He punched him right on the stomach. "...when to shut up!"


    Darren moaned in pain, feeling the air rush out of his stomach. Then he looked up at Tyler Mooney. "You always did say I had a death wish."


    Tyler smirked as he stood up, adjusting his cuffs, then he gestured to the guard. "Get him out of here."


    "To hell with you, Tyler," Darren mumbled with the weakest of breaths. "To hell with all of you."


    The guard picked Darren from the ground and carried him to the door while Tyler and Lily followed.


    Then, he dropped him on the street. "You can come pack your things later, Darren." Lily called after him.


    Darren ignored her. He wanted nothing to do with her except to prove that she had made a grave mistake today.


    "Yes, Omar!" Tyler hailed his guard. "Send the dog to the streets where it belongs!" He laughed loudly, giving Darren the middle finger.


    That one struck a nerve, and when Darren flipped his back, the security guard angrily gave him a stronger shove.


    A much stronger shove, because it ended up causing Darren to stumble into the street, right into the path of a speeding bus.


    "No!" Lily''s yell echoed.


    Darren quickly snapped his head toward the blaring sound of a horn, and his heart seized as he saw the speeding bus. But it was too late.


    Bang!


    The impact was immediate and brutal. Pain exploded through Darren''s body, the world spinning as he was thrown from the road and hard on the ground.


    Pain was everywhere, an aching sound rang in his head as he lay there, blood pooling beneath him, his vision fading.


    "Whoa!" Tyler exclaimed, laughing in the distance. "That was crazy!"


    "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Lily panicked. "Call an ambulance!"


    Darren heard all of this as life slowly started to leave him. He couldn''t believe it. So this was it? He was going to die? Just like that? After everything he suffered?


    How''s that fair? And if it wasn''t, why was life so unfair?


    Tyler walked into his fading vision, hands in his pockets, looking down at him and smirking.


    "Don''t bother," he said to Lily. "The moron''s already dead."


    He grinned wider at Darren''s dying face. "And just like a dog, he died on the street. Goodbye, loser."


    It was then that Darren drew his last breath. Anger and hatred was the last emotion he felt in his stopping heart and the face of Tyler Mooney was the last thing he saw.


    ...Except, his eyes opened once again.

 Chapter 2: Regressed With a System

    Darren''s eyes snapped open.


    ''Wait, this is... odd.''


    He had just been struck by a speeding bus. If somehow he was alive, then he would be in tremendous pain.


    However, there was no pain.


    Maybe he was in a hospital and had been given an anesthetic, but Darren didn''t exactly feel numb. In fact, he felt healthy, refreshed!


    There was no sound of ambulance sirens or the cold pavement beneath him. Something strange was happening.


    Successfully waking up completely, he looked around and saw that he was in a bed ¡ª his bed, but it was one he hadn''t seen in years.


    ''Is this a dream?'' he thought. ''If it is, what kind of sick dream is this?''


    He looked around. This room he was in, this bed. It was all made to resemble his room from when he was ten years younger.


    All the old posters, the books, the music box and the PlayStation 3. ''Is this heaven? Or is this just what happens when a person dies?''


    Ringggggg!!


    Slam!


    Darren froze. His alarm on the nightstand beside him had just buzzed and he had instinctively reached out and smacked the button to silence it.


    A wave of nostalgia struck him. That instant response was ingrained into him when he was twenty-one; slamming the alarm quiet because of how much he hated the noise.


    Darren''s eyes widened. ''No way. It can''t be possible.''


    He grabbed the clock, heart racing, then pressed a button to show date rather than time.


    The date then flashed on the small screen:


    July 29, 2010.


    Darren''s breath hitched. This wasn''t possible.


    He scrambled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. When he reached it, he suddenly froze, filled with shock once again.


    In the mirror, the face staring back at him wasn''t his 31 year old face, it was ten years younger, free of the lines and wear of his future self.


    ''Did I actually just regress?'' he thought in disbelief, touching his face. ''I just did. I just regressed ten years into the past!''


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Darren laid down on his bed, arms stretched, staring at the ceiling of his room from 10 years ago. He had started to accept his reality now. He died.


    And then he regressed.


    But first... he died. He actually died. Tyler Mooney killed him, and then laughed at his dying body.


    Darren clenched his fists. What kind of idiot had he been in his past life? Why had he been so weak and simpish? Why did he allow people to just walk over him?


    First was Gareth Smithers. When Darren got the job as a financial intern, he thought his life was going to skyrocket from there. Working as an intern for the Smithers Group was a true pride for any business and finance graduate.


    When he successfully got the job as financial assistant, it was certain he was bound for greatness after that. But no matter whatever he did, all the breakthroughs he made, Gareth Smithers never promoted him.


    ''It''s all because of him. Of course. Of course, this is all Gareth''s doing,'' Darren thought bitterly.


    ''That man never wanted me around. Always looked at me like I was dirt beneath his shoes. And now I get it ¡ª this was the plan all along. He didn''t just fire me to get rid of me.''


    ''No, he used me first. He saw how knowledgeable I was in the finance business. And so he took every financial strategy I built, my calculations, every bit of advice I gave. He took it all without giving me a shred of credit. Not a damn thing!''


    Memories flashed in his head. ''Tyler Mooney always wanted Lily. Gareth wanted to secure a partnership with Moon Enterprise, and at the same time, he wanted to get rid of me.''


    ''Yes, yes. It all worked out for them. They all got what they wanted from the deal. The only loser here is me.''


    His eyes flashed with redness and hate. ''Is that why fate has done this? Is that why I''ve regressed to ten years in the past just weeks into the start of my internship with Smithers Group?''


    He sat up, sinking his face into his hands. ''I shouldn''t ask questions. Fate has chosen me for whatever reason, I don''t care. But I''m going to use this opportunity. I won''t make the mistakes I made before, and I will take down the Smithers Group and destroy Tyler Mooney, even if it''s the last thing I do!''


    ''I will¡ª !''


    ©³1/3 Goals have been identified©¿


    ©³System Activated©¿


    ©³Analyzing Host Profile...©¿


    ©³Compiling Current State...©¿


    Darren jerked his head back and froze. ''I''m seeing things... There''s a floating screen in my vision.''


    He tried to reach for it but his hands went right through. ''What? It''s holographic.''


    ©³Welcome Host, to the Investor System©¿


    ©³Host Profile has been activated©¿


    ''Is this really a system?'' Darren blinked rapidly as lines of data and graphs flickered into view, assembling into an organized display on the translucent purple interface.


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Host Profile: Darren Steele©¿


    ©³Age: 21©¿


    ©³Assets:


    ¡ª Cash: $232.47 (Checking)


    ¡ª Personal Belongings: $900©¿


    ©³Liabilities:


    ¡ª Student Loan: $3500


    ¡ª Debt Owed to Co-worker: $100©¿


    ©³Net Worth: (Assets Minus Liabilities)


    ¡ª $1132.47 - $3600 = -$2267.53©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Active Investments: None©¿


    ©³Business Owned: None©¿


    ©³Portfolio Summary:


    ¡ª Stocks: 0


    ¡ª Cryptocurrency: 0


    ¡ª Physical Assets: 0©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Expenditure Log©¿


    ©³Monthly Expenditure:


    ¡ª Money Gained: $579.31


    ¡ª Money Spent: $609. 73©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Reputation Tracker©¿


    ©³Public Reception: Unknown©¿


    ©³Rivals'' Fear: No Business Rivals©¿


    ©³Allies'' Loyalty: No Business Allies©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Financial Milestones©¿


    ©³First $1M Net Worth: Locked©¿


    ©³First Profitable Investment: Locked©¿


    ©³First Business Acquisition: Locked©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Legacy Counter©¿


    ©³Jobs Created: 0©¿


    ©³Companies Disrupted:0©¿


    ©³Rivals Defeated:0©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Quests©¿


    ©³Weekly Quest:


    ¡ª Early Investor: Make your first investment©¿


    ©³Monthly Quest:


    ¡ªNo Debt, No Stress: Pay Student Loan and other Debts


    ¡ª Build a Foundation: Save $500 this month©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Congratulations, you have Unlocked an Achievement!©¿


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Rock Bottom


    ¡ªYou''ve hit the lowest point in your life. There''s nowhere to go but up!©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    Darren stared wide-eyed at the floating screen before him. ''What the hell is this? Why is this stuff showing me my dire circumstances with brutal honesty?''


    He looked at the Expenditure Log, seeing how much he had gained this month and how much he had spent. Then his eyes drifted to his loans and student debt, and then his net worth.


    "My net wor¡ª" His eyes widened. "My net worth is in the negative?! What!"


    Darren scratched the back of his head. ''Was this how deep in the trenches I was back then? Although this regression is a good way to start anew, this reality I''ve been pushed back to is a really harsh one. I was barely making ends meet during this time.''


    He looked at the supposed Achievement he unlocked, and frowned bitterly. ''And what kind of backhanded achievement is this?''


    ©³Rock Bottom: You''ve hit the lowest point in your life. There''s nowhere to go but up!©¿


    "Yeah well, thanks for the motivation," Darren muttered distastefully.


    He scrolled lower and then his gaze hardened as he examined the Financial Milestones and Legacy Counter.


    ''It seems the aim of this system is actually to mould me into some kind of Business Tycoon. Is the system here because I regressed? Or did I regress because of the system?''


    He placed a hand on his chin. "Is this all to give me a shot at a second chance? There''s a counter for Companies disrupted, Rivals defeated. It knows I want to take down Smithers Group and Moon Enterprise. It knows I want to be a successful businessman.''


    Darren studied the interface for a longer time. ''The Investor System. Is that the theme here? Do I get richer by making investments?''


    A new interface appeared before him, asking him one single question;


    ©³Do you accept the Investor System?©¿


    ©³Note: Refusing the System results in return to your original state which is instant death and the wiping of this timeline©¿


    "Ehh?" Darren lifted his brows. ''Of course I accept. I''ll do anything for a second chance, and now that I have it, I''m not letting it slip through my fingers for whatever reason!''


    He quickly selected ©³Yes©¿. The interface disappeared and reappeared with a new message:


    ©³Investor System has been successfully downloaded and activated©¿


    ©³The Investor System grants the host, Darren Steele, the power to make wealth through investments©¿


    ©³All criteria have been met. Regression was successful, host was a perfect choice and possesses vast knowledge of the business and finance world©¿


    ©³With your knowledge from the future of what investments are sure to be a success, you are bound never to make an unprofitable investment©¿


    ©³You''ve regressed to invest. Build your empire in the finance world and take down your enemies with the Investor System by your side!©¿


    Darren''s mind felt like it had broken open and he suddenly realized what was happening. He checked one of the Weekly Quests and saw the one that caught his interest:


    ©³Early Investor: Make your first investment©¿


    Darren tapped it and a list of potential investments was laid out before him:


    Aparagon (APG), Facebook (Meta), Doxercoin (DXC), Wesla Cars (WSLA), Bitcoin (BTC), Silver (XAG), and Esper (Proga).


    Eyes wide, Darren hurriedly tapped Bitcoin to check the price. If his calculations were correct, if his memory served him right, if he wasn''t just being hopeful from excitement, in the year 2010, the price of one Bitcoin was...


    The system displayed the answer:


    $0.08.


    Darren stared at the interface for seconds.


    "I''m going to be a freaking billionaire."

 Chapter 3: First Investment

    Darren sat hunched on the chair by his bed, scrolling through his old ¡ª now his present ¡ª computer at a particular business website that had a recent story on Bitcoin.


    So far, there had only been a few purchases of Bitcoin with its first recorded purchase in January 2010, just a few months ago. Back then, Bitcoin was priced around $0.0008 per BTC.


    Darren wondered why the system hadn''t regressed him back to that time. The price would have been even cheaper. However, he realized that was him just being greedy and overexcited.


    He scrolled.


    Following the chart, Darren could see a lot of information he was already well versed on. But seeing it happen, being more aware of it in the same year the internet currency began to bloom was exhilarating.


    The chart on the laptop showed that Bitcoin''s price began to rise slightly in May, reaching around $0.01 per BTC.


    Darren knew this, just as he knew what the website said in the next paragraph, stating that Bitcoin marked its highest point so far in July of this same year. It reached the price of $0.08 per BTC.


    He narrowed his eyes and studied the chart before him. The chart projected that Bitcoin was going to receive a significant drop soon, falling in price to an abysmal $0.0003 per BTC.


    The writer of the article from the news website, Business Everyday, Brooklyn Baker, had this to say:


    ''Although the internet money appeared to have had some potential, this concept of a decentralized digital currency is still not trusted by the common folk and the business investors of the world.


    Cryptography enthusiasts have shown their interest in the digital currency but that interest is falling fast. There are presently a little less than a million Bitcoin in circulation, but these numbers are also speculated to drastically reduce as newbie investors are already impatient, and old investors have given up on waiting for a tangible growth.


    There is still a small group of participants engaging in mining, transactions, and discussions about the cryptocurrency. However, over the last week, that group registered a significant drop and is also speculated to drop more.


    Certainly and hopefully, by the end of the year, the company, Satoshi Nakamoto who launched this project, will realize what a failure it is and take it off the market. That way, we can all focus once again on real and actual money.''


    "Hah!" Darren chuckled. "Talk about unbiased journalism. The government must be paying this news website heavily so that they can relay as much negative news on Bitcoin as possible."


    Darren had studied on this. He knew how much the government was against the rise of Bitcoin in the early stages.


    It''s not like their concerns were unjustified. Things such as worry over illegal transactions, tax evasions, scams, money laundering and terrorist fundings. Also competition with the main national currency were all good reasons for the government to be against the cryptocurrency.


    But the advantages of Bitcoin were much too palatable for investors, so the only way the government could stop its growth was to make the currency appear as unprofitable as possible so that no one bothers to buy.


    And to be fair, the charts did support their claim. From the looks of it, Bitcoin''s present growth appeared to be something of beginner''s luck and a massive decline was imminent.


    However, Darren knew what no one else knew.


    That wasn''t going to happen. The charts were only speculation, and just like most speculations when it came to business and finance, it was wrong!


    Darren grinned.


    The opportunity was too enticing, especially with the government stopping people from buying by twisting the narrative of Bitcoin being a waste of money. That would only mean more Bitcoins for Darren to buy, and less people being as rich as him.


    There were no questions left to ask. He didn''t have to wait a whole week to decide. Out of all the investment options given to him, Bitcoin was the one he was most informed on.


    So, Darren summoned the purple interface by using his mind as he had learnt some moments ago. Then, he selected Bitcoin to invest in.


    ©³Host, you have chosen Bitcoin (BTC) to be your first investment©¿


    ©³Splendid choice! Your knowledge of the cryptocurrency is your ticket to wealth and success©¿


    The screen then vanished and was replaced with a new one.


    ©³Suggestion!©¿


    ©³You have astounding knowledge of Bitcoin''s history and its market. Do you want to upload your knowledge into the system to avoid forgetting them? Once knowledge is uploaded into the system, all the information will be arranged for easier access©¿


    Darren let out a low whistle, impressed by the system''s functionality. "That''s... actually really useful," he muttered, before selecting ©³Upload©¿.


    The moment he confirmed, a sudden wave of dizziness attacked him, like he had just pulled himself from almost drowsing off. His vision blurred for a moment, and he instinctively reached for the desk to steady himself.


    "Yikes," he shook his head. "I felt high for a moment there."


    The loading bar on the screen completed and a ding echoed in his mind as a new message appeared:


    ©³Loading complete. Your knowledge has been successfully uploaded. Information is now accessible and arranged for streamlined reference©¿


    As Darren watched, a section called Bitcoin Investment Window stretched before him. The interface arranged itself into neatly organized categories, displaying all the crucial information Darren remembered, and it seemed it might have even added details that he forgot.


    Whatever the case, it was well arranged.


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Bitcoin Investment Window©¿


    ©³Price Presently: $0.08/BTC©¿


    ©³Price in Future: $50,000/BTC©¿


    ©³Rises:


    ¡ª January 2011 - Minor Rise - $0.3/BTC


    ¡ª March 2011 - Major Rise - $6/BTC


    ¡ª April 2011 - Minor Rise,- $9/BTC


    ¡ª June 2011 - Major Rise - $31/BTC©¿


    (Tap to see further rises for more than one year)


    ©³Crashes:


    ¡ª March 2011 - Minor Crash - $4.3/BTC


    ¡ª August 2011 - Major Crash - $2/BTC©¿


    (Tap to see further crashes for more than one year)


    ©³Your Investment©¿


    ©³Invested: Zero©¿


    ©³Profit: Zero©¿


    ©³Number of other investors: 2609©¿


    ©³Potential Investment Rivals: Adam Scotland©¿


    ©³Adam Scotland has purchased the most Bitcoins, owning over 150 thousand out of the near million circulating©¿


    ©³Adam Scotland stands to make a gain of $900,000 in the next Major Rise©¿


    ©³Strategy©¿


    ©³Invest during dips and Minor Crash periods©¿


    ©³Avoid all-in bets. Use Bitcoin as a portion of the broader portfolio©¿


    ?Note: To access this window, tap on Investments on your Profile and then tap on Bitcoin?


    -------------------------------------------------


    Darren scrolled through the interface, his mind racing with possibilities. The sheer amount of information now neatly compartmentalized before him gave him a sense of confidence he''d lacked in his previous life.


    "This... this is like having my own crystal ball," he murmured, a sly grin forming on his lips. "I know when the currency rises and when it crashes. That way I can withdraw after a massive rise and invest after a crash! This is unbelie¡ª."


    The phone on his table buzzed, singing the old ringtone he had those ten years ago.


    Darren froze, staring at the screen and at the person who was calling. He''d almost forgotten, they were very close around this time. Almost inseparable.


    The caller ID read the name: Lily.

 Chapter 4: Blast From the Future

    The name hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart pounded as he stared at the phone while it buzzed incessantly, drilling into his mind.


    For some reason, he couldn''t bring himself to pick up the phone. He felt frozen, the memory of her betrayal and the image of Tyler Mooney wrapped around her kept flashing in his mind.


    So, with his breath heavy, he considered letting it ring out. But then the ringing ceased and Darren exhaled shakily, relief washing over him.


    Buzz! It rang again.


    The same caller ID: Lily.


    ''Might as well get it over with,'' Darren thought as he swallowed hard. Rather than reaching for the phone with a trembling hand, he picked it up quickly like he was irked.


    Then he took a deep breath, and he slid his thumb across the small buttons of the phone.


    "Hello?" His voice came out more clipped than he intended.


    "Hey, you," Lily''s voice chimed through the speaker, bright and flirtatious. Darren felt stiff from the way he recognized it, how it used to be all those many years ago when he trusted her.


    "Where are you?" she asked him. "Your boss, my Dad is looking for you. You can''t start your internship month by being late again, Danny. It''s already the third time this week."


    Darren froze, somehow hearing Lily''s playful tone and recognizing it, managed to cut through his composure. He could barely focus on her words. That voice... so familiar, so cheerful. It was like being yanked into a past he desperately wanted to escape.


    "Darren?" she prompted, her voice softening. "Are you there?"


    The system chimed.


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Investor System has discerned a spike in the Host''s emotional status©¿


    ©³Reason for emotion spike has been identified as: Lily Smithers©¿


    ©³Suggestion!©¿


    ©³In regards to her betrayal and the CEO of Smithers Group being her father, the system advices that you cut all ties with Lily Smithers as she offers you no meaningful aid in your journey©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    Darren watched the interface with curiosity. The system was right. The best way to not get betrayed again by Lily was to end things immediately and keep distance from her.


    He was thinking of this while Lily continued to speak over the phone.


    When he still didn''t reply, she called again; "Darren? Can you hear me?"


    He slowly snapped out of his trance. "Yeah. Yeah, I''m here," he said, his voice hollow. "I''ll be there soon. Sorry, just... caught up in some stuff."


    There was a pause on her end. Then her voice softened, laced with concern. "Is everything okay? Are you okay?"


    Darren blinked, caught off guard by her curiosity. "Yeah, I''m fine," he lied.


    "You sure?" she pressed. "I know with your mom in the hospital and everything... things must be really tough for you. If you want I could tell Dad you need a day off."


    Wait... what?


    All the words she just uttered hit him like a freight train. Did she just say his mom? His... mother?


    Darren''s chest tightened as memories flooded back. It was this year... this was the year she fell gravely ill. A condition so fatal that without surgery ¡ª a surgery he couldn''t afford back then ¡ª she had...


    She had died.


    Darren''s breathing quickened. In the silence, Lily''s voice faded into the background, he didn''t care about anything she was saying, he had just seen the other broader part of this picture.


    It wasn''t just about Bitcoin and being a billionaire. It was about building his life to the exact kind of good things he wanted.


    His mother was alive.


    "Darren?" Lily''s voice brought him back.


    "I''m fine," he said quickly, stopping her from continuing her rambling. "I''ll be at the office soon." Without waiting for her reply, he ended the call, slamming the phone down onto the desk.


    For a few minutes, he sat there, stunned. His hands trembled as anger and hope warred within him. Hearing Lily''s voice brought a surge of bitterness, a reminder of the betrayal that had shattered his life before regression.


    But another light in the tunnel had appeared; the thought of seeing his mother again ¡ª the woman he hadn''t seen in ten years ¡ª ignited a flicker of hope.


    He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. His mother needed him.


    Darren quickly took a fast bath, sunk his laptop and some books into his suitcase.


    Then, he entered on top of his old bicycle which was the only means of transport he had at that time in his life. He cycled out of his home and into the bustling city streets, the old bike creaking beneath him.


    The chilly morning air stung his face, but he barely noticed. His mind raced, heart pounding as he approached the hospital he knew all too well.


    Ahead, tall and gallant was Morrison''s Hospital. It was a building with a sleek glass fac?ade glinting in the sunlight. Designed in the shape of a large cross, but made with glass, the typical skyscraper although more daring.


    In the city, everyone knew it as a symbol of wealth and prestige, owned by a renowned doctor, Richard Morrison, who had a big lifeline partnership with the Moon Enterprise.


    Darren parked his bike outside. Seeing the old piece of junk there was so out of place in comparison to the numerous luxurious vehicles in the lot.


    He ignored all of this with only one thing in mind, then entered the hospital.


    Inside, the air smelled of disinfectant and expensive polish. The lobby buzzed with activity: there were nurses in pristine white uniforms, hurrying past, while patients in tailored suits were sitting in plush chairs.


    Darren stood there for a while, momentarily overwhelmed as he tried to remember where led to where in this damn hospital. He looked awkward compared to the usual people who came to Morrison''s. His poorly ironed suit drew disdainful glances from several staff members.


    Regaining some memory, he walked straight to his forward right where the reception desk was. The nurse ¡ª a young sassy woman chewing gum ¡ª looked him up and down with thinly veiled contempt. "Name?" she asked briskly.


    "Darren Steele," he said, his voice steady despite the knot in his throat. "Here to see my mother."


    The nurse barely acknowledged him, blowing a bubble and scribbling in the register before shoving it toward him. "Sign here."


    Darren signed, ignoring the judgment in her eyes.


    "You know the drill." The nurse said. "I''ll tell the doctor you''re here. That old lady is taking the space meant for more illustrious and fitting patients. Do hurry up and get her out of here."


    Darren froze, glaring at the woman as she sat down, continued chewing her gum and pressing away on her phone.


    He was so angry but he knew he could do absolutely nothing. Not there.


    But why? And how? Why and how could people be so blatantly mean? In such a way that it felt heartless and almost even evil?


    Darren decided to just accept that some people are made that way, and they had to exist in order for goodness and kindness to be worth something.


    He sighed then walked through the pristine halls, his steps echoing on the polished floors. Every corner of the hospital screamed opulence, from the gleaming marble tiles to the art-lined walls.


    More eyes also looked his way judgmentally, yet, none of it mattered.


    Stopping in front of a door, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle. He was going to see his mother for the first time in ten years.


    Darren took a deep breath, even though it still failed to make him any less nervous.


    He opened the door anyway.

 Chapter 5: 2nd Goal Identified

    Once he got inside, Darren slowly walked to the bed, his mother seemed half asleep, but the moment she heard a noise, she turned around to look at who it was.


    A smile appeared on her weak face. "Darren. My boy."


    Darren''s eyes turned sad, and he wanted to hug his mother as tight as he could. But he had to be careful not to hurt her, so he just sat beside his mother, grabbing her frail hand in his trembling grasp.


    "Mom," he muttered. "M¡ª mum."


    He couldn''t tear his eyes away from her face, it was so pale but still radiating the warmth he remembered. The sight of her alive stirred an ache in his chest. Tears threatened to spill, but he blinked them away, determined to stay strong for her.


    Mrs. Steele smiled, seeing her son being especially emotional today.


    "Darren, what''s wrong?" she asked with a soft voice. Her other hand reached up, brushing against his cheek. "Why are you looking at me like that? You''re acting as if you haven''t seen me in years."


    ''Because I haven''t,'' he thought, but the words remained locked in his throat.


    He couldn''t tell her. She wouldn''t believe talk more of understand. And he also couldn''t just tell her that she had died in his past life. That this sickness had taken her.


    Instead, he leaned down, burying his face into her shoulder as her arms wrapped around him in a comforting embrace.


    "I''m fine," he whispered, though his voice cracked. "I''m just... glad to see you, Mom."


    She held him tighter. "I''m always here, baby. I''m not going anywhere, okay? Stop worrying so much."


    "The people here want you out, don''t they?" he asked. "Do they treat you poorly, mom?"


    His mother sighed and smiled. "Anything here is still better than slowly dying. They give me the medicine I need. I''m alright, Darren. I will be fine."


    But that wasn''t true. Darren''s heart clenched painfully. He knew the truth.


    His mother''s illness had been a shadow that consumed their lives during this year.


    Just after his graduation and locking in the internship with Smithers Group, she had suddenly fallen heavily ill. She cried from chest pains and had shortness of breath.


    Darren had rushed her to a cheap clinic, hoping it would be something that could be handled quickly, but the doctors diagnosed her with advanced aortic stenosis, a condition where the heart''s aortic valve narrows, obstructing blood flow.


    The symptoms had grown worse over time. Without an aortic valve replacement, her heart would fail... and she would die.


    Since the clinic couldn''t cure her, Darren had to take her to the only hospital in the city that he knew definitely would, and that was Morrison''s.


    He had begged Mr. Gareth Smithers to use his connections to allow his mother to be admitted in such a prestigious hospital. The CEO finally agreed, saying he wasn''t heartless enough to watch a boy''s mother die.


    Then the cost of the surgery arrived and it had been insurmountable.


    He hadn''t been able to afford it back then, and so he went running to Gareth Smithers once again, and that was the first of his many altercations with the CEO which left him bruised and battered ¡ª emotionally.


    Gareth Smithers had called him a beggar. A relentless and shameless beggar. All because Darren wanted an early pay after being officially made financial assistant. He said he had done enough by allowing her to get admitted, but he does not and will not give an early pay to any of his employees!


    With the hospital discharging her because of Darren''s inability to pay the hospital bills, his mother had died in her sleep one cold October night.


    Darren remembered that night clearly. He had never felt alone, and had wept over her lifeless body, cursing the world for its cruelty.


    In present time, Darren sighed.


    ''It won''t happen this time,'' he vowed in his thoughts. ''I won''t let her slip away again.''


    Mrs. Steele smiled at him. "What are you thinking about in that big brain of yours?"


    Darren looked at her as she leaned back to rest, her breathing shallow. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead with trembling fingers.


    "I''ll save you, Mom," he mumbled. "I swear it."


    Ding!


    ©³2/3 Goals have been Identified©¿


    Darren frowned, looking at the interface. Goals? He remembered seeing that same notification just before the system officially activated.


    However, he had no time to ponder the meaning as the door swung open behind him.


    A man in a crisp white coat stepped inside, followed by the nurse from earlier. Her smug expression soured the air.


    "Mr. Steele," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses. "I''m happy that I was able to catch you before you left. We need to talk about your mother''s stay here."


    Darren stood, his body tense. "Alright. Can we... do this outside?"


    The doctor and nurse exchanged a glance. "Alright."


    Once they got outside, Darren took a deep breath. "So, what''s the problem?"


    The nurse sneered. "Your account is overdue. You''ve racked up quite the bill for someone like you."


    "Like I said before, the bill isn''t in my name, it''s in my uncle''s. Jared Steele."


    "And where is this Jared Steele?" the doctor, who was just one of the many esteemed doctors in Morrison''s asked. "He has not stepped foot in this hospital and we have no way of contacting him or his banks in order to get the payment. Stop playing with us here, kid. The bill rests on you."


    "Okay uhm... Listen, I ¡ª" Darren faltered, swallowing hard. "I don''t have the money right now, but I''ll have it by the end of the week. Please, just give me some time."


    The doctor sighed, shaking his head. "This isn''t a charity, Mr. Steele. Morrison''s is the best and most prominent hospital in the state. We don''t hold beds for people who can''t pay their dues."


    "Please," Darren begged, his voice desperate. "She needs the care."


    "So do all of our clients, Mr Steele."


    The nurse scowled at him. "Stop being an irritating pest and just pay us already, you maggot!"


    Darren looked at her, doing his best to swallow her insults. He was the one in need of help here. "I''m just asking for one week. Please."


    The nurse scoffed, folding her arms. "One week? Do you think this is some free clinic? We have patients who can actually pay for their care, you know." Her voice was laced with disdain as she raked over Darren''s disheveled appearance.


    "Pack up that hag of a mother and take her out of here. Our illustrious patients require that bed!"


    That one pierced Darren''s soul. He looked at the doctor. The man shrugged. "You heard her. If she is to stay here you must pay. If you can''t pay, then she must leave for our more distinguished patients."


    Darren''s heart sank. His knees felt weak as he stepped closer. "You don''t understand. She''s critically ill. Moving her could kill her. Please, just one more day. I''ll have the money by tomorrow."


    The nurse laughed. "Tomorrow? And what miracle is supposed to happen by then? Face it, you''re broke. If you cared so much, you''d have found the money already."


    "I''m begging you," Darren dropped his head, fists clenched at his sides. "That''s all I can do for now. Please!"


    The nurse looked at him with disgust. "How pitiful." She hissed. "But since you said you''d do anything... Then, get on your knees and kiss my feet!"


    Darren froze. "What?"


    "You heard me," she said, tilting her head mockingly. "If you''re really as desperate as you claim, show us how much you care. Get down on your knees and kiss my feet."


    The doctor chuckled, shaking his head. "Well? What''s the holdup, Mr. Steele? Pride won''t save your mother, will it?"


    Darren''s chest tightened. He looked at the door to his mother''s room and knew that her life depended on him now. But to kiss this crude bitch''s feet?! How degrading.


    Still, the doctor was right. Pride won''t save his mother. In fact, to save her, Darren would kiss a hundred feet! And so, his desperation won, and he slowly sank to his knees.


    Lowered his head as they watched him with evil grins. Then he kissed the nurse''s polished shoe.


    "Ha! Ha! Ha!" The nurse lifted her feet, placed the heel of her shoe on his chest and shoved him backward, laughing as he fell.


    "You really are pathetic," she sneered. "Alright then, you pitiful mutt. Your mother can stay for another day. But you better have the money tomorrow. We don''t give free healthcare, especially not to eyesores like you."


    The doctor added, "Now get out. Your presence here is an embarrassment to this hospital."


    Darren lay down there for a moment, heart pounding, mind reeling, fists clenched.


    ''Of course. Of course!! Of course!!! It''s the same everywhere. People are just naturally cruel. Once they view themselves better than you, once they see you have no money, no power! They treat you like trash! Of course Tyler Mooney was right. Money and Power is all that matters!''


    ''Anyone who says it isn''t, just doesn''t have enough of it!''


    "Hey, mutt!" the nurse tilted her head looking down at him. "Didn''t you hear what I said? Get out of here!"


    Darren stood slowly, his cheeks burning with shame. He kept his head low, refusing to show them the anger in his eyes as that could piss them off.


    ''But I''m going to get a whole lot of it! And I''m going to deal with you first.'' He looked down at the nurse''s tag. ''Nurse Helen.''


    Darren definitely wasn''t defeated. He glanced back at his mother''s door, whispering a soft goodbye before stepping into the hallway. The nurse''s laughter followed him, along with the whispers of others who had witnessed the scene.


    Darren kept his face blank, but his mind raced.


    "They''ll regret this," he vowed silently. "All of them."


    He stepped out of the hospital and a ding rang in his mind.


    ©³Morrison''s Hospital is now an enemy company©¿


    ©³Enemy companies must be disrupted©¿

 Chapter 6: Smithers Group (1)

    Darren''s bike screeched to a halt as he pulled into the parking lot of Smithers Group. He leaned forward, exhaling slowly, before sliding his helmet off.


    Then, he lifted his head. ''Here I am again,'' he thought. ''Ten years back.''


    For a moment, he stared at the company''s emblem ingrained into the shining stone wall ahead of him. It was a not-so-creative adjoining of the letters S and G, standing for Smithers Group.


    Sighing, he got down from the bike, placed the helmet into its rear compartment, and adjusted his faded blazer. Instead of hurrying into the building, he took a while to stand and watch.


    The nostalgia hit bitter and strong. By the time of his death, the Smithers Group headquarters had already received massive refurbishments and redesigns. They had changed the bland SG logo to a star with an S torn into it, and the building was far more modern than it was now.


    But even now, it still towered over him like a monument of vanity. The exterior was made of reflective, pristine glass, with geometric patterns of steel framing the rectangular windows.


    Even at this point, Smithers Group was already among the epitomes of prestige, well-known as a beacon for industry leaders.


    The company had built its empire on financial consultancy and investment strategies, managing the portfolios of the wealthiest elites. Darren used to be awestruck by its grandeur, the sheer power it wielded in the world of commerce. It was why he had been so happy when he landed the paid internship.


    But now... standing before it, he felt only disdain.


    ''It all started from this place, didn''t it?'' he muttered in his thoughts. ''After everything I gave them... they threw me to the wolves.''


    Memories of his younger self flooded his mind: how thrilled he had been, how proud his mother was. But those memories soured quickly, tainted by betrayal, exploitation, and dismissal.


    Most importantly, his death.


    With one steadying breath, Darren held his suitcase tightly and walked into the building.


    The inside was a bit difficult to recognize, seeing that it had been years. He did his best not to act too confused, but the lobby was buzzing with activity.


    Men and women in fine suits walked up and down purposefully across the glossy marble floors. The ceiling stretched high above, adorned with decorative bulbs that illuminated the space brightly.


    Darren recognized the large screen on the wall displaying the stock market ticker alongside promotional clips boasting the company''s accomplishments.


    He moved through the space like a ghost, trying not to draw too much attention. It wasn''t difficult, as people brushed past him without a glance, their conversations flowing around him.


    When someone did notice him, it was only to murmur something under their breath or cast a judgmental glance his way.


    He finally made his way to the reception desk, where he recognized the young receptionist. She didn''t last long in this job, he recalled, with her sharp eyelashes and perfectly styled hair.


    She glanced up from her computer, and her expression soured as her eyes landed on Darren.


    "Late again, Steele?" she sneered at him. "You ever good for anything?"


    Darren didn''t respond. The stupid girl''s going to get fired before the month ends, he thought. He only recognized her because of how often he''d shown up late and she''d given him stick like she owned the place.


    He picked up the pen and signed his name in the register. Without a word, he walked past her, heading to the elevators.


    During the uneven elevator ride to the financial department, he spent the time in his thoughts, pondering how strange it felt to be around this time, seeing people he hadn''t seen in ten years.


    When the doors slid open, Darren stepped into the main office hall, where dozens of interconnected offices branched off. The air was filled with the low hum of conversations, the clicking of keyboards, and occasional laughter.


    Ignoring the sideways glances, Darren made his way to a modest office tucked at the end of the corridor. The plaque on the door read Sandy Meyers ¨C Financial Assistant. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside.


    Sandy Meyers sat at her desk, her scarlet hair pulled into a neat bun. Her round glasses perched on her nose as she reviewed a spreadsheet on her computer. She looked up as Darren entered, a warm smile breaking through her otherwise tired expression.


    "Look at you, Darren," she said, leaning back in her chair. "You finally made it. Gareth''s been breathing down my neck about those reports you''re working on. He''s not exactly the patient type, you know."


    Darren smiled faintly. "Yeah... that. Don''t worry, I managed to get it done last night."


    Sandy shook her head, chuckling. "You''re a workaholic, you know that, right? You were barely done with it yesterday."


    Darren just smiled awkwardly.


    She looked at him for a while longer, then said, "Just don''t impress the man too much, so he doesn''t start thinking of replacing me with you. Now off you go, and like I always tell you, try not to take anything he says to heart."


    Darren could only stare. It had been at least seven years since he last saw Sandy.


    She had been abruptly and suspiciously fired back then. There were talks that she''d been involved in some kind of scandal with the CEO. Some even said hush money was involved. Darren vividly remembered the aftermath in the office.


    Back then, he had felt conflicted, guilty even, about stepping into her role. She had been the only one who was kind and fair to him. She was older ¡ª at least ten years older, the same age as his past self ¡ª and had always had a motherly, mentoring demeanor toward him.


    Seeing her now felt good. At least he didn''t hate everyone in this damned company.


    He wanted to say something, but the door burst open, and a whirlwind of blonde hair and energy stormed in.


    "Darren!"


    Lily''s voice rang out, light and melodic, and before he could react, she threw her arms around him.


    He froze, his body stiff as her warmth enveloped him. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her perfume ¡ª a floral, sweet scent he remembered all too well ¡ª filled his senses.


    "Where have you been?" she asked, pulling back just enough to look at him, her blue eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. "I''ve been waiting the whole morning for you."


    Darren''s throat tightened. He couldn''t speak.

 Chapter 7: Smithers Group (2)

    Seeing her like this: so vibrant, so full of life: it was a sharp contrast that he didn''t like, especially with the bitter memories of the future.


    Of course at this point, she didn''t know what she would do in the future, and if someone told her that she would do such a thing, she would argue with that person and deny it.


    That was fair. It was ten years in the future. Whatever had occurred that had changed Lily enough to make that decision had not occurred now. So she was still innocent, which meant in the eyes of morality and relationships, she was still... a good person.


    But... that didn''t mean that Darren should forgive her, and even though he should, he couldn''t. He couldn''t look into her face without seeing the Lily Smithers who cheated on him.


    And even more so, the Investor System was right:


    ©³In regards to her betrayal and the CEO of Moon Enterprise being her father, the system advices that you cut all ties with Lily Smithers as she offers you no meaningful aid in your journey©¿


    WARNING: ©³Cut all ties with Lily Smithers. Financial losses have been foresighted in your future if she remains acquainted with you©¿


    Darren didn''t need to be told. Lily Smithers was dead to him.


    "Darren?" Lily tilted her head, concern creeping into her voice. "Are you okay? You look... pale."


    "I¡ª yeah," he managed to say, his voice hoarse as he took her hands off his neck. "I''m fine. Just... caught off guard."


    "Well, don''t scare me like that!" she said with a playful pout, releasing him. "You''re lucky I found you. My dad''s looking for you, and you really don''t want to be late again. It''s the third time this week, you know."


    Darren nodded, coldly turning away to drop his briefcase by the table. "Thanks for the heads-up, Lily."


    Lily frowned, staring at him. "Darren?!"


    He paused. Then turned to look at her. "Mhm?"


    She folded her arms. "Are you mad at me or something?"


    Darren narrowed his eyes, and nonchalantly shook his head. "Why would I be mad at you?"


    Sandy, who had been observing the interaction stretched her lips down comically as it now felt she was intruding. "Oh my, would you look at that. I almost forgot Mr. Smithers'' copy of the income of... Yeah... Better go get it!"


    She pulled her chair back and got to her feet then left the room.


    Lily frowned unhappily, not looking at Sandy as she left. "Come on, Darren. Please tell me if I did something wrong."


    "You haven''t done it yet," he murmured inaudibly.


    "What was that?"


    "Nothing," he answered straightly. "I''m just a little overwhelmed with things today. That''s all."


    Lily''s face softened, understanding that it had to do with his mother. "I''m sorry. I shouldn''t have pushed you," she said, grabbing his arm. "Come. Let''s get together before Dad blows a gasket."


    She tried to pull him forward, but Darren stood still, and she was drawn back. Then he freed himself of her grasp, leaving her confused and speechless.


    "I can get there on my own," he said with dejection. Then, he walked past her and headed for the door while she watched him leave with her heart wrenched.


    Darren stopped halfway but didn''t turn to face her. "Look. I''d like to be on my own today. So, if you don''t mind keeping your distance."


    Lily gazed at him, hand on her chest, eyes sad but even more shocked. "O...kay," she stuttered weakly.


    And as she watched, Darren left the office with no more words said, leaving her confused and torn. What did she do? Why was he being so cold and mean to her?


    Darren walked silently through the noise of others doing their work in their office chairs. Someone threw a folded paper at him, but missed wildly. He didn''t bother turning to see who it was.


    He approached Gareth Smithers'' office, seeing the door ahead, an intimidating slab of dark mahogany with a polished brass nameplate gleaming at eye level. Gareth Smithers ¨C CEO.


    But Darren wasn''t very intimidated now. He knew exactly how most of this conversation was going to go even though he could not remember all of it. So, he was prepared.


    Standing by the door, he tightened his grip on the handle of his suitcase, squared his shoulders, and pushed it open without knocking.


    The office was as ostentatious as Darren remembered. Sunlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows behind an enormous glass desk that seemed to float in midair. The room was framed by shelves of leather-bound books, undoubtedly for show, and abstract art pieces that screamed wealth without meaning.


    A plush, cream-colored rug softened the floor, and two sleek armchairs sat opposite the desk, their leather gleaming under the light. Everything in the space was curated to convey power and sophistication.


    Seated behind his powerful desk, Gareth Smithers, who appeared surprised that Darren dared open his door without knocking, decided to ignore it.


    Though his sharp, angular features were fixed in a scowl and his steely gray eyes were in slits as they locked onto Darren. He had fine blond hair like his daughter, although she was turning it silver, and he wore a tailored navy suit that spoke of obscene wealth.


    Even as a man in his early fifties, he carried himself with the arrogance of someone who believed time would bend to his will.


    "You''re late, Steele," Gareth growled, his voice cold and clipped. He didn''t rise from his chair, instead leaning back, fingers steepled. "Again."


    Darren bit back the first retort that came to mind by tightening his jaw. When he calmed down, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him more carefully than he had opened it.


    "Sorry, traffic," he replied flatly, though his tone carried no trace of apology.


    Gareth scoffed, shaking his head. "Traffic. Of course. You''ve got excuses for everything, don''t you? I should''ve known better than to expect punctuality from someone like you."


    First strike.


    Darren paused for a second and he lifted his eyes to catch Gareth''s face. For a fleeting moment there, he let the hate rise to the surface.


    The man''s face, so smug and self-assured, triggered a flood of memories ¡ª Gareth''s cold indifference when Darren had begged for help, the calculated exploitation of his work, the betrayal that had shattered his life.


    ''You''re the reason my world fell apart,'' Darren thought, his fingers itching to slam his fist into that smug face.


    Gareth''s voice cut through his thoughts. "Jesus. You''re looking at me like you wanna kill me." He scoffed. "Let''s get to the point. Sit."


    Darren didn''t move immediately, and Gareth''s expression darkened, like he was warning him to take the damn chair. With a sigh of exasperation, Darren walked to one of the armchairs and sank into it, crossing his legs.


    Gareth leaned forward, his chair creaking. "I have only one question for you. How do you do it, Steele?"


    Darren raised an eyebrow, pretending like he didn''t know what he was saying. "Do what?"


    "Don''t play coy with me," Gareth snapped, sitting forward. "The financial suggestions you''ve made ¡ª all of them, and I mean all of them ¡ª have been spot on. You calculated the earnings and losses they made. Sandy couldn''t do it, but you did."


    "I was hesitant and unsure, but you submitted your graph and your calculations and you told me to invest in that tech start-up before anyone even knew its name, and now it''s skyrocketed. Last week, your financial plan for the Jameson Company helped them make over three hundred million in five days! How? How do you know so much about finance and business? About the stock market?"


    Darren met Gareth''s gaze, his expression carefully neutral. He could feel the man''s frustration simmering, and it brought him a grim sense of satisfaction.


    "I just do. I was the best graduating student. Or have you forgotten?"


    "Hmm. That is true." Gareth agreed. ''But what this kid has is not just knowledge gathered from school. Even though it pains me to say it as this trash is dating my daughter, he is talented with numbers. How they rise and how they fall. I should find a way to lock him into my company and use him as much as I can.''


    Darren leaned forward, deciding to test the CEO. "I begged for early pay, sir, to cover my mother''s hospital bills, you said¡ª"


    "I don''t do early pay, Steele! You earn as you work!" the man boomed. "Look at you, an insolent brat from nothing. It''s just your first month here as a paid intern and you''re already asking for early pay!"


    Darren tilted his head. "It''s my first month, and I''ve already made you more profit than most of your employees. Yet, you can''t help me. A young adult in need with nowhere else to go."


    Gareth frowned, narrowing his eyes. ''What''s going on with this kid? Where is he getting this audacity from to speak to me like this? Yesterday, he was ready to worship me simply because he was still so grateful to be working here. Now, it''s like he''s a whole new person.''


    "I registered her there, didn''t I? I think I''ve done enough," he replied disdainfully.


    Darren''s gaze hardened. "That''s what you said. You didn''t even blink, Gareth. My mother was dying, and you couldn''t be bothered to care.Yes, you''re right. You have done enough, and I won''t let you do anything more."


    Gareth opened his mouth to retort, but Darren cut him off.


    "I know now," Darren continued with a cold tone. "That''s why..." He reached into his suitcase and pulled out a neatly folded letter, placing it on the desk with deliberate precision. "...I''m turning in my resignation."


    Gareth''s eyes widened. "What?!"

 Chapter 8: Contract Cancelled

    Electric tension started to build. Like opponents in a boxing match, both men glared at each other from the opposite sides.


    Darren could feel Gareth''s eyes boring into him as he sat there, but unlike his former self in a situation like this, he was defiant and composed.


    Like a referee, the resignation letter was in their center, laying still on the desk, untouched. Knowing Gareth''s character, Darren had expected resistance, but Gareth''s silence stretched for a moment longer than he anticipated.


    It seemed like Gareth was truly surprised that he ¡ª a twenty-one year old boy who just graduated from college ¡ª had the guts to give him a resignation letter.


    It was quite unheard of for interns to resign from a job, especially since that would be bad rep, and likely spoil their chances to get other jobs. But for this boy to be gutsy enough to make such a move, either he had a secret plan or he was incredibly stupid.


    So, like a predator sensing weakness, Gareth leaned back in his chair with a smirk curling at the corners of his thin lips. The kind of smirk that promised trouble.


    ''This boy has no idea what he''s digging into.''


    "I am disappointed to hear this Darren," Gareth began, mockery in his voice. "But I am even more disappointed in your stupidity."


    He chuckled and sat up. "Did you forget about the contract you signed when you joined us as an intern? The same contract that I make all my workers sign? Mhm?" His grin grew wider.


    "You were so eager back then, so excited to be part of the company. Didn''t even read the fine print, did you?"


    Darren didn''t flinch, though the jab stung. He remained rooted, his hands in his pockets, his face betraying nothing.


    Gareth tapped a finger on the desk for emphasis. "Let me remind you. That contract ¡ª which you signed, mind you ¡ª states that even if you resign, you are obligated to work for this company for two additional months. It''s a clause we put in place to ensure a smooth transition. So, you little rat, I don''t know what happened to you overnight that made you come here making demands. But I''ll tell you something right now."


    He leaned forward, eyes blazing. "You can turn in all the letters you want, but you''ll still be here, sitting at your desk, working for me, for the next sixty days. Whether you like it or not, you''ll still be under my thumb. And I will make those two months hell for you."


    The smugness in Gareth''s voice was unbearable. His smirk widened as he sat back and relaxed on his chair. ''Ha! Ha! I''ve got him now. This trash might only be useful for his brain, but that''s enough reason for me to keep him around and suck as much of his financial ideas as possible.''


    He felt proud of himself and was grateful that he''d listened to his lawyer''s idea of secretly including that clause. But there was one issue.


    Darren didn''t look worried or shocked at all. Gareth''s face darkened with confusion as he saw that there was not even a flicker of panic crossed on the boy''s face. Instead, he shrugged slightly and adjusted his tie. "Sixty days, huh?"


    "Sixty," Gareth repeated, leaning forward now, wondering what was going on. "You''re not going anywhere, Steele. I don''t know what you have planned but you think you can just walk out on me after all I''ve done for you? After the opportunities I''ve handed you on a silver platter?"


    Darren almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement. ''Opportunities? Is this man deranged?'' Gareth hadn''t handed him anything but scraps, stolen ideas, and broken promises.


    Darren didn''t say anything for a good while, making Gareth become a little anxious. Then, he finally decided to break the silence.


    "Actually," he began, his voice calm, "I did think about that contract."


    Gareth''s smirk faltered slightly. ''Eh?''


    "I thought about it a lot," Darren continued, sounding way too casual that it began to feel threatening. "And you know what? I knew you''d try to pull something like this. So, I made sure I was prepared."


    The faintest crease appeared on Gareth''s forehead.


    "You see," Darren said, slipping his hand into his briefcase once more, "I met with the lawyer who drafted that contract. The same one who signed it."


    Gareth''s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"


    Darren lifted his gaze at him. "Hold on, you''ll find out soon enough," he said, then lowered his eyes back to the bag before pulling out a neatly folded sheet of paper. He set it down on Gareth''s desk beside the resignation letter.


    Gareth snatched it up, his eyes scanning the document. The smirk had completely disappeared from his face now. "What is this?"


    "It''s a revised agreement," Darren said nonchalantly. "Before I came here, I went to see a lawyer. Attorney Jonathan Vance, you remember him? The lawyer you hired to draft my original contract? Turns out, he''s quite fond of the stock market. I made him a deal. I didn''t have money, so I gave him my calculations and proof to go for a particular investment that is bound to be lucrative. He''s on his way to making seven million dollars and I managed to have him amend the terms of that agreement."


    "Of course, he signed off on it himself. After all, who better to rewrite a contract than the person who created it?" Darren watched the horrid expression on Gareth''s face. "The clause no longer stands. And since it''s the same contract that all your employees signed, it means the clause no longer stands for them either."


    Gareth''s hands tightened around the paper, first he was unsure of who to be angry with. That backstabbing lawyer or this piece of trash who he hired from nothing!


    The anger radiating off him became palpable. "You... you conniving little¡ª"


    "Careful, Gareth," Darren interrupted, his voice cold and smooth. "I''d watch what you say. Remember that I no longer work for you, hence you can''t just treat me whatever way you wish and expect me to do nothing. I''ve got his signature, his approval, and the documentation to prove it. You''ve got nothing."


    Gareth slammed the paper onto the desk, his jaw clenched. "You think you''ve outsmarted me? You think you can just waltz out of here after meddling with my company! You want to ruin everything I''ve built?"


    Darren relaxed backward and shrugged. "Maybe? But I''ve barely started, don''t you think? This is just an act to secure fairness and give you what you deserve. You capture young graduates into these ridiculous slave contracts, steal their ideas, and exploit their ambition to make yourself richer. And I was your most prized slave, wasn''t I? Which was why you even used your daughter on me to keep me loyal."


    Gareth flinched at that, his face twitching in shock. ''How does he know that? Did she tell him? What have you done, Lily?''


    Darren straightened up, keeping his eye on the CEO. "You tell her to whisper something in my ear that keeps me in check, makes me gullible. And when you saw the billion dollar opportunity with Moon Enterprise, you didn''t need me anymore, and neither did she."


    Gareth''s expression was now confusion, shock and rage all mixed together. ''What''s he talking about now?''


    His mouth opened as if to say something but closed again when no words came.


    Darren grabbed his resignation letter from the desk and slipped it back into his bag. "Consider this my official goodbye," he said, standing up and turning toward the door.


    "You''ll regret this, Steele," Gareth spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You don''t cross the Smithers Group! I''ll make sure to blacklist you! No business company will ever hire you! Ever!"


    Darren paused at the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. His gaze was icy, and his voice steady. "Why would I bother working for a business company when I can just make my own?"


    "Eh?" Gareth''s eyes widened as he reclined. "You want to start a business company." He wanted to laugh as loud as he could because of how unrealistic it sounded, but why would this boy say something like that if he didn''t mean it.


    "I don''t know how you intend to do it, but no business company will work with yours if I blacklist you!" he spat. "Your stupid company will be over before it even begins."


    Darren didn''t look bothered. "Go ahead then. Blacklist me. I don''t need the help or other businesses to start my own."


    Gareth slammed his hands on the table and stood up. "That''s impossible. You''ll have to be the richest man in the state to run a business without the aid of other businesses."


    Eyes narrowed, Darren simply sighed and turned to the door. "Then that is what I''ll be."


    He opened the door and left the office.


    Ding!


    ©³3/3 Goals have been Identified©¿


    "Lilyyyy!" Gareth Smithers yelled. "Get inside my office, right now!!!"

 Chapter 9: Loan Shark

    The sun dipped low over the city skyline as the afternoon was now in full blaze.


    Darren sat on a rusted bench, a lit cigarette pinched between his fingers. Smoke curled lazily into the air as he stared blankly at the space in front of him where the system''s interface was only visible to his sight.


    ©³You''ve earned yourself a Character Bonus!©¿the system announced.


    ''Character Bonus? What could that be?'' he thought, pausing mid-smoke.


    ©³Character Bonuses are granted when you show impressive character in the face of a challenge. Your character in the presence of Gareth Smithers have granted you your first Character Bonus©¿.


    ''Ah,'' his eyes lit up. ''I see.''


    ©³Character Bonuses unlock special features in the system©¿


    Ding!


    ©³New Feature Unlocked: Insight Protocol©¿


    "Mhm?" his brows slightly raised. ''Insight Protocol?''


    ©³Congratulations on unlocking this feature. The system can now instantly submit information concerning any business group, company or organization. This includes their history, the financial health, operations, and even the risks and secrets. This feature offers you a significant edge in navigating your future investments and dealings.©¿


    ''Woah. That''s a major feature,'' he thought. ''And I got that all because I showed strong character against Gareth Smithers. That''s... interesting.''


    Remembering something, he stopped the cigarette that was about to reach his lips. "Hey, system. What are Goals? Why did you keep randomly bringing them up and saying you''ve identified them?"


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³ Explanation of the Goals Mechanism ©¿


    ©³ Goals represent the primary objectives associated with each path you undertake. They define the milestones to be achieved at specific points in your journey. Completing these Goals will grant the following rewards: 10x Profit, 20x Cashback, and 100% Tax Shield ©¿


    ©³ A maximum of three Goals can be active at any given time. Once these three Goals are completed, you may unlock a new set of three Goals to pursue. ©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    "Ah, I see." He took a deep suck and puffed out smoke. "This system is quite vast, isn''t it?"


    He thought a bit of all the things it could help do, the heights it could help him reach.


    "The move now is to get some money. A lot of it, and fast," he said, more to himself than the system. "But no banks are going to give me a loan on a negative net worth, and online loan apps are not really popular at this time."


    He glanced at the interface, feeling as thought was judging him. "System, I know you said I should try to be debt free, but you don''t mind me looking for a loan, right? I mean it''s my only option really, unless my mom gets evicted from the hospital."


    The system responded with a ding.


    ©³ Loans are helpful when starting a business career, especially as an investor. But debts must be avoided. Do everything possible to avoid incurring heavy debts.©¿


    He nodded slowly. "I understand."


    The breeze blew softly by his face and he took a deep breath, sitting back on the bench with his briefcase resting by his feet.


    This park was a stone''s throw from the company he had just walked out of for good and he could still hear words from the conversation he''d just heard with Gareth Smithers echoing in his ears, but he felt strangely calm.


    The weight of his decision had fully settled, and after he finished with that cigarette in his hand, he was going to begin the building of his empire.


    "Since when do you smoke?"


    The voice pulled Darren out of his thoughts, and he turned and blinked, seeing Eddie, his old college friend and now distant colleague, standing nearby.


    Eddie didn''t wait for an invitation and plopped down beside him, his suit jacket slightly wrinkled and his tie askew. Darren glanced at the cigarette in his hand, frowning as if seeing it for the first time.


    "I don''t," Darren said, suddenly realizing. ''Not yet, anyway.''


    He remembered that he hadn''t started smoking at this time, rather, it was a habit he''d picked up five years from now. He remembered that Lily had hated it. She''d begged him to quit, and he had ¡ª for her. But now, Darren felt like there was no point.


    Besides, if he was ever going to quit, it would be on his terms, not hers.


    Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Darren''s face. "Hey, you okay? You walked into the office hall acting all quiet and somber, and now you''re out here alone... Smoking."


    Darren shrugged. "What do you want, Eddie?"


    Eddie leaned back against the bench and smirked. "A cigarette, for starters."


    Darren reached into his pocket and handed him one without a word. They smoked in silence for a moment, the sounds of children playing and birds chirping filling the space between them. Finally, Eddie spoke again.


    "So? What did you do?"


    Darren eyed him. "What do you mean?"


    "Boss Smithers is stomping around the office like a madman, yelling at everyone. I mean, he''s always grumpy, but this is different, and it started right after you left. So... What did you do?"


    Darren exhaled a cloud of smoke, showing no expression at all when he answered; "I resigned."


    Eddie blinked. "That''s it?"


    "That''s it."


    Eddie studied him carefully, his brow furrowing. "Come on, man. You expect me to believe that?"


    "You asked me a question and gave you the answer," Darren replied uninterestedly. "I don''t really care what you believe."


    Eddie lifted a brow, fully curious now. ''Boss Gareth is so angry because an intern resigned from the job? Why? What''s so special about him? I know Darren is super smart with finance and stuff but that can''t be why he was so angry.''


    Darren turned to him abruptly, cutting through Eddie''s thoughts. "Eddie, you remember when your uncle was scrambling for five hundred thousand dollars to pay off a loan shark that was threatening his life?"


    Eddie froze, the cigarette halfway to his lips. "What?"


    "You heard me." Darren''s tone was sharp, lifting one brow as he gave him a side glance. "You''ve not forgotten about it, have you?"


    "Of c¡ª course not," Eddie replied. "I was just surprised at the question."


    "Do you remember the name of the loan shark?"


    Eddie hesitated, his mind racing. ''What''s going on here? Is he trying to borrow money? Why would he bring that up? "Why are you asking me that?"


    Looking at him with both eyes, his gaze was cold, almost distant. "Just answer the question, Eddie."


    After a pause, Eddie sighed. "Well, if you want to know so bad. They''re called the Red Fang. They operate out of that back alley near Crane Street. But Darren, they''re bad news. They''ve ruined lives. My uncle barely got out of that mess alive. Why are you even¡ª"


    "Thanks," Darren cut him off, throwing the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it, then grabbing his briefcase and standing up.


    Eddie jumped to his feet. "Wait!" Darren paused but didn''t look back. "I know we haven''t been close since we graduated, and I know that''s my fault as well. But... just be careful, alright? These guys are hardcore criminals, Darren. They''ll hurt you if you cross them."


    Darren glanced over his shoulder, no expression on his face. "Hmm."


    With that, he walked to his bicycle, climbed on top of it and rode off, leaving Eddie standing by the bench, watching his friend disappear into the city''s chaotic streets.


    Eddie sighed, the cigarette burning low in his fingers. "What the hell are you up to, Darren?" he muttered to himself.

 Chapter 10: Securing the Loan

    Darren parked his bicycle a block away from Crane Street. As he secured his briefcase in the seat of the bike, he looked around, scanning the place with his eyes.


    The street was quieter than the rest of the city, with streetlights that kept flickering as if it was about to die soon and boarded-up storefronts that made it appear like there was not a soul living here.


    This was the kind of place people avoided, not only because of the crime but because even the air here felt heavy with desperation and fear.


    "I can''t stay here for long," Darren muttered to himself before turning to his left and stepping into the shadows of the street.


    The alley Eddie had mentioned was barely noticeable. It seemed like it had been forcefully created, it was a very narrow, dark gap between two crumbling buildings.


    There were trash cans by the walls and an iron staircase that led to the top of the building on his left. Darren hesitated only a bit, then letting out a sigh as he remembered who he was doing this for, he continued ahead.


    He was walking for quite a long time. The alley seemed endless, and he kept glancing at the dim light of the street lamp that he''d passed, which kept fading with every step he took.


    Finally, he arrived at the end of it, and there was a steel door with peeling red paint and a small, circular peephole.


    Darren knocked once, his knuckles sounding unnervingly loud against the metal.


    The peephole slid open, revealing a pair of cold, sharp eyes. "Password," a gruff voice demanded.


    ''Eh? Password?'' Darren hesitated. He didn''t know any password. However, before he could even say anything, the man saw he didn''t know any password and the peephole instantly snapped shut.


    ''Huh?'' he seemed confused. ''Are they really not gonna let me in because I don''t know the password? Eddie didn''t say anything about a password.''


    Moments later, the door creaked open, and a massive man, dressed in a tight black shirt that highlighted his muscles, appeared before him. A jagged scar ran across his forehead, and his arms were crossed in a stance that dared anyone to make a wrong move.


    "No password, no entry," the man said, his voice as deep as a growl.


    Darren knew it was unwise to show intimidation. He steadied his voice and replied. "I didn''t know there was a password needed. I''m just here to see the boss," he replied firmly.


    The man stared him down for what felt like an eternity before stepping aside. "Password Correct."


    Darren appeared surprised. "G¡ª huh?"


    "Don''t waste his time."


    After searching him, the man waited for Darren to walk past before following behind him and then closing the door with an ominous bang.


    Stepping into the interior, everything was as expected until he walked past the narrow corridor. It was like he''d suddenly stepped into another world.


    The contrast was unbelievable. There were neon lights flashing across the dark room, glowing over plush couches and tables that had shots and wine bottles placed on top of them.


    A DJ was on an elevated stage, bopping his head to the loud music he was playing, and there scantily-dressed women, curvy, busty and in fact some of them were just completely naked, were dancing and serving drinks.


    "Hey, Daddy," one pulled him by his tie as he passed by.


    "You don''t mind taking care of me, do you?"


    Men in suits sat in shadowy corners, discussing deals Darren couldn''t hear, while others danced or watched the women dance.


    ''Jesus,'' Darren swore in his mind. ''I had no idea Red Fang was also an exclusive strip club.''


    Ding! He could thankfully still hear the notification of the system. The interface appeared before him with some information.


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³ Insight Protocol Complete: Information on The Red Fang Organization is as follows ©¿


    ©³ Estimated Net Worth: $28.4 million. ©¿ ©³Primary Income: Loan sharking, illegal gambling, smuggling, human trafficking, prostitution, illegal harvesting of human body parts ©¿


    ©³ Leader: Rodriguez ''Shank'' Tevez ©¿


    ©³ Tactics: Entrapment through unpayable debts, asset seizures, kidnapping and forceful intimidation. ©¿


    ©³ Please note that this is a high-risk interaction. ©¿


    ©³ System''s Advice: Proceed with extreme caution. ©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ''I can''t say I''m surprised by any of that. But damn, these are some really rotten people.''


    Darren was escorted past the bar and into a private room at the back. Here, the music was muffled, but the tension in the air was suffocating.


    It was a more official looking room, with fine cushioned chairs and a single chandelier illuminating the place in silver light.


    "Again!" Darren heard a voice yell. Then he heard the sound of a heavy punch, and after that, a whimpering man begging.


    "Just one more week. Please! Please! I''ll get you the money then!"


    Darren didn''t hear much after that, but as he got closer, the man scurried out of the room, not looking at anyone but continued to mutter, "Thank you. Thank you."


    Taking a silent deep breath to steel himself, Darren walked inside and saw a man sitting at the head of the room who he knew immediately was the boss.


    He was lean, with sharp features that gave him a wolfish appearance. He was also bald, and he had tattooed his entire face with a skull. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through Darren as he leaned back in his chair, a glass of whiskey in hand.


    Around him were two more bodyguards, both as imposing as the one that had brought Darren in, their hands resting ominously close to the guns holstered at their sides.


    "So," the boss said, his voice calm but laced with menace. "Man in suit. What brings you to the Red Fang? You seem too young to be interested in our... activities."


    Darren forced himself to maintain the man''s gaze. "I want a loan."


    "Hah!" the man laughed. "A loan?! Ah, I''ve seen your type before. Alright, tell me, kid. How much do you need?"


    Darren was calm when he replied, "$200,000."


    The room fell silent. The boss raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Two hundred thousand bloody dollars. Boy''s got some nerve. What makes you think I carry that kind of money with me?"


    Darren raised a brow and nodded. "I know you do."


    The man smirked, as though he was entertained. "Fair enough. But what makes you think we''d hand over that kind of money to a stranger?"


    "I''ll pay it back in a month," Darren said, giving them his ID. "With the interest you set."


    The boss looked at the ID, then at him. "Darren Steele. You feel very confident. Any business you want to let us in? Any sure bets you''re aware of?"


    He shook his head. "I just really need the money."


    The boss grinned. "Desperation. I like that! It''s what makes us rich, isn''t it? Preying on desperate people."


    The boss leaned forward, setting his glass down on the table. "The interest is 40%. It increases to a hundred if you waste a single day. Is that understood?"


    Darren nodded.


    Another grin from the boss. "Don''t play around, kid. You miss the deadline, we take what we''re owed ¡ª your assets, your family''s assets, and anything else we can get our hands on. And if that''s not enough..." His smile widened, but it didn''t reach his nasty looking eyes. "Let''s just say we have other ways to make you pay."


    Darren didn''t appear to be afraid at all. "I understand. I''ll pay it back."


    The boss studied him for a long moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. ''Who is this kid?''


    Then he snapped his fingers. One of the bodyguards stepped forward, placing a briefcase on the table and opening it. Inside was the money, neatly bundled in stacks of crisp bills.


    "Here''s your $200,000," the boss said. "One month. No extensions. No excuses."


    Darren stepped forward and took the briefcase. He got on his knees, dug his hand inside and inspected the money. This made the boss narrow his eyes. ''He''s clever enough to know to check the hidden cash in case they''re fake? How does a twenty one year old kid know to do that?''


    Darren met his gaze when he was done. "Can I purchase something here?" he asked.


    "What could that be?" the boss inquired.


    "A gun."


    Eyes widened. "Hmm?"


    "I have to defend myself in case I get robbed carrying this, don''t you think?"


    The boss was impressed now. ''He also knows the loan shark tactic of stealing the money after giving it away but still demanding for repayment. This kid has my attention now.''


    He snapped his fingers, ordering one of his men. "Get him a glock."


    ---


    And so Darren stepped out after he was done, briefcase of cash in hand, glock in pocket.


    ©³ Mission Successful! Loan accepted. $200,000 in cash. High-risk liability initiated.©¿


    ©³ Pay back loan in time. Avoid heavy debts. And please, proceed with caution. ©¿

 Chapter 11: Cash to Code

    Few minutes after Darren had secured the $200,000 loan, he rode his bike out of Crane Street and was back on the lively road of the city.


    Now he had the cash, the only thought in his head was to pay his mother''s hospital bills and then slouch on his chair and begin his investments.


    However, there was one problem.


    The Investor System chimed in his head.


    ©³System Notification: Digital transfer required for investment. Cash detected as inefficient and traceable. Advisable action: Locate discreet digital conversion services.©¿


    "Yeah. I was just thinking about that," he said. "Besides, carrying a lot of cash like this to the hospital would raise eyebrows. Doing a transfer would be better. That way I can pretend that my uncle had sent the money."


    He looked down at the briefcase. "I also need the money in digital form so I can invest in Bitcoin. But using a bank would set off alarms, wouldn''t it?"


    "I mean depositing this much cash into my account when there was basically nothing inside prior would raise questions. Questions I don''t have time to answer."


    He stood straight, looking into the busy road and thinking. "Hmm."


    Then it hit him. He remembered an old place where a friend of his from college had been working in around this time. Or maybe not yet?


    Even though, at least the place should still be around. It was a cyber cafe operating as a front for illegal money conversions and transactions.


    Darren''s friend had dropped out of college and decided to put his computer skills into good use. He never judged him for it, especially now because that cafe was his lifesaver. If anyone could do this quickly and quietly, it was them.


    The place was called "DataForge." It was located in a dingy part of town, tucked between a pawnshop and an abandoned laundromat.


    Darren quickly got on his bike and rode to the place. Arriving, he squeezed himself through the two buildings, finding a narrow alley with wet walls and a leaking pipe from above.


    The cyber cafe was settled to his right, behind the laundromat and after another narrow alley.


    Above the building''s transparent door was a flickering blue neon sign that read: DATAFORGE: OPEN 24/7.


    Darren pushed the door open and stepped inside. Click! The door made a sound, like to announce to everyone that there was a person stepping inside, though no one seemed to look in his direction.


    The smell of stale coffee and overheated computer hardware filled the air. The room was brightly lit, with rows of computers lining the walls, and few people sitting hunched over the screens, their faces illuminated by the cold blue glow.


    Darren walked towards them scanning their faces for his friend, just in case he was already working here. All of them seemed to ignore him, completely busy by the numbers on their screen.


    He stopped in front of one of the workers, a girl who was casually scrolling through her phone, while she waited for something to finish loading on her screen.


    Darren looked down at her. He saw that she was in her early twenties, with fiery red hair and a slender body. Her dark eyeliner and smudged lipstick gave her a rebellious, edgy look, and her cross neck sleeveless shirt exposed a large amount of her heavyset breasts, creating a very attractive cleavage.


    She glanced up when Darren''s eyes lowered, her piercing green eyes narrowing in curiosity and also accusation.


    "You''re not staring at my tits, are you?" she asked.


    Darren lifted his eyes and met hers. "No," he said simply. "I''m not."


    "A man who knows how to lie," she said, smirking. "I like it."


    Darren didn''t respond.


    She sized him one more time before continuing. "You don''t look like the usual geek crowd we get in here. What brings you to DataForge, handsome?"


    Darren acted blind to her flirtation and then asked her if she knew his friend. "Do you anyone who goes by the name Rico Evans here?"


    The girl shook her head and shrugged. "I''m a sucker at names but I doubt it. Why are you looking for this Rico? Whatever you want him to do, I can do it."


    Darren''s eyes almost darkened at that moment, studying her for a short time. Then, knowing it couldn''t be helped, he placed the briefcase on the table, opened it, and revealed the stacks of cash.


    Her smirk faded, replaced by raised eyebrows and an impressed whistle.


    "Wow," she said, leaning forward. "That''s a lot of green. What''s the story? Did you rob a bank?"


    "No questions," Darren said firmly. "I need this converted into digital form. Quietly."


    She tilted her head, studying him for a moment. "You''ve got guts, showing up here with this. Most people at least try to look nervous. But alright, no questions." She closed her phone and slouched towards her monitor.


    As she began typing, her fingers flying over the keys, she glanced up at him. "Name''s Kara, by the way. And you are...?"


    "N.O.Y.B," Darren replied, eyes on her monitor screen.


    She lifted a brow. "You go by initials?"


    Darren sighed. "It stands for None Of Your Business. Now just do what I came here for."


    Kara chuckled. "Tough guy, huh? I like that," she said, smirking again. "You know, I usually charge extra for rush jobs. But for you, I might make an exception if you flash me a smile."


    "Just get it done," Darren said, his tone cold but controlled.


    Kara chuckled, clearly amused by his indifference. "Suit yourself, mystery man. But you should know, I don''t do charity. What''s the account?"


    Darren handed it to her.


    She looked at it, tilted her head, made an "mhmm" and then continued working.


    "Henry! Come secure this cash in the vault!" She called one of the workers who gathered all the money from the briefcase and put it in a bag, then took it to the back.


    Darren watched it happen while Kara continued with the digital transfer. The system chimed softly in his mind as she did.


    ©³System Notification: Scanning transaction process. No anomalies detected. Proceeding is safe.©¿


    ''I guess that simply means she''s not trying to play me or whatever.''


    "Alright," Kara said after a few minutes. "We take a 3% cut. That''s the deal. You want it done clean, we get our share."


    "Fine," Darren said, though the loss stung. He didn''t have the luxury of negotiating.


    She transferred the cash to digital form, sending the remaining $194,000 to the wallet he provided. When the system confirmed the receipt of the funds, Darren exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.


    "There you go," Kara said, leaning back and crossing her arms. "All set."


    She watched as Darren took his phone out of his wallet and checked the credit notification. The system also notified him of an increase in his balance.


    ©³System Notification©¿


    ©³Cash Increase: $194, 234.47©¿


    "Is that all you want?" Kara asked, slightly pushing her chests forward. "I''m a lonely girl. Wouldn''t mind you taking care of me."


    Darren grabbed the now empty briefcase, snapping it shut. "I''m not your father," he said.


    She pouted playfully. "But I could still call you daddy."


    He turned to her coldly, then looked forward. "Not interested."


    Then, without another word, he walked out of the cafe, the neon sign flashing behind him as the door swung shut.


    Kara smiled to herself, watching him leave. ''He''s a curious one. I''m going to have fun figuring him out.''


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Finally arriving at home, Darren locked the door behind him and sat down at his laptop. His heart raced as he opened his wallet and checked the balance: $194,000. It was real. He had the money.


    He quickly transferred $110,000 to the hospital''s account, ensuring his mother''s bills were paid. The system confirmed the transaction, and he printed out a receipt and secured it in his briefcase.


    Even though a rush of relief and joy danced through him, Darren didn''t stop to celebrate. The real work was just starting.


    "Time to begin," he muttered to himself, opening a Bitcoin exchange site.


    Ding!


    ©³All Bitcoin purchases must be made via system to insure you gain the rewards!©¿


    "Oh," he muttered. "Alright." He took away his focus from the monitor screen to the system interface floating in front of him.


    ©³Host, you can now initiate your first Bitcoin purchase!©¿

 Chapter 12: Official Bitcoin Purchase

    Darren sat at his desk, leaned forward, his fingers resting on his table as his eyes hovered over the Bitcoin Investment Window displayed by the system. The numbers blinked in front of him, crisp and clear.


    -----------------------------------------


    ©³ Bitcoin Investment Window ©¿


    ©³ Price Presently: $0.08/BTC ©¿


    ©³ Price in Future: $50,000/BTC ©¿


    ©³ Rises:


    ¡ª September 2010 - Minor Rise - $0.9/BTC


    ¡ª January 2011 - Major Rise - $6/BTC


    ¡ª April 2011 - Minor Rise - $9/BTC


    ¡ª June 2011 - Major Rise - $31/BTC ©¿


    (Tap to see further rises for more than one year)


    ©³ Crashes:


    ¡ª March 2011 - Minor Crash - $4.3/BTC


    ¡ª August 2011 - Major Crash - $2/BTC ©¿


    (Tap to see further crashes for more than one year)


    ©³Your Investment ©¿


    ©³Invested: Zero©¿


    ©³Profit: Zero©¿


    ---------------------------------------------


    Darren exhaled, staring at the numbers. This was it. The moment where everything changed.


    He had $84,000 left after paying his mother''s hospital bills. That was 1,031,250 Bitcoin at the current price. The next rise was only a month away, from $0.08 to $0.9 ¡ª an 1125% increase. If he invested everything now, his portfolio would be worth $928,125 in just thirty days.


    A shiver ran down his spine.


    This was what absolute knowledge of the future felt like. While others hesitated, unsure if Bitcoin was a scam or a passing fad, he knew. He knew exactly what was going to happen.


    This meant that there was no reason to play it safe. Not when all the bets were sure. So, he went all out.


    Darren quickly set aside $1,500 for daily expenses and emergencies. The rest? Straight into Bitcoin.


    Below the Bitcoin Investment Window was a button that said ©³Make New Investment©¿, he selected that button and saw a notification:


    ©³There are no investment drafts. New investment can be initiated©¿


    With some excitement, he selected the Invest button.


    A confirmation window popped up.


    ©³Amount of Bitcoin to purchase: $________©¿


    Darren typed in the number when a keyboard screen appeared on the interface.


    ©³Are you sure you want to purchase Bitcoin worth $82,500 at $0.08 per BTC?©¿


    ©³Estimated Holdings: 1,031,250 BTC©¿


    His pulse quickened slightly. Excitement.


    Then, he raised his finger and clicked, ©³Confirm©¿.


    The system interface refreshed, and a moment later¡ª


    ------------------------------------------


    ©³Investment Successful!©¿


    ©³BTC Purchased: 1,031,250©¿


    ©³Current Portfolio Value: $82,500©¿


    ©³Estimated Profit at Next Rise: $928,125©¿


    ------------------------------------------


    Darren couldn''t help but grin, he just couldn''t help it. A grin worthy of an evil villain.


    It was almost hard to believe. He had just cemented his first step towards true wealth.


    Ding! The system notified him of an update in his Bitcoin Investment Window.


    ©³Your Investment©¿


    ©³Invested: $82,500©¿


    ©³Profit: 0 (Please await the Next Rise before making a withdrawal)©¿


    He nodded his head, unable to chase away his smile. ''I''m completely fine with that.''


    Just as he leaned back, feeling the rush of accomplishment, his phone vibrated.


    Brmmmm! Brmmmm!


    Darren sighed. He pulled it out of his pocket, half expecting it to be a text message from Lily or someone else from work. But it was rather an app notification.


    It popped up.


    > CryptoTracker Notification:


    FuglyDuckling just purchased Bitcoin worth $82,500!


    His smile froze. "What?"


    He quickly sat up, moving his fingers through the numerous buttons of the Samsung phone and finally selected the notification, opening the CryptoTracker app.


    ''FuglyDuckling? Who the hell? Is that me?''


    Then it all came rushing back. He remembered that he had downloaded this app around this time when he started gaining interest in cryptocurrency.


    CryptoTracker was a social platform where enthusiasts, traders, and investors tracked each other''s transactions. It combined blockchain transparency with a social media interface, allowing users to discuss trends, boast about profits, and predict rises or crashes.


    All transactions were displayed publicly using usernames instead of real names, ensuring some anonymity. The top account in the site with the most followers was ScottishPanda, ID name; Adam Scotland, the man with the most amount of Bitcoin owned.


    But right now, at the very top of the trending feed, was Darren.


    FuglyDuckling ¨C Purchased $82,500 worth of Bitcoin


    There were already hundreds of reactions.


    "Who the hell is this lunatic?"


    "Some rich kid wasting money on a useless coin."


    "Wait, $82K? That''s the biggest single buy ever!"


    "This guy single-handedly pushed more Bitcoin into circulation just to fund this purchase. Crazy!"


    "A whale just entered the game!"


    "Respect. Dude''s got balls."


    Darren''s breath quickened. He understood that the personal Bitcoin wallet created by the system was connected to his real life information such as email and ID.


    Since the CryptoTracker broadcasted every major Bitcoin purchase, his wallet had notified them and his purchase had been broadcasted.


    He clicked on the profile.


    It was supposed to be his, but because he had never actually set up an official account, the system had auto-generated the username FuglyDuckling for him. The app had no access to his real identity, meaning no one could trace the purchase back to him.


    He let out a slow breath. Thank God.


    He didn''t want this to be an issue. If people knew he had purchased that amount of Bitcoin, they would bombard him with messages, and people he knew in real life would harass him with calls and visits, either mocking him for investing in an unproven cryptocurrency that experts even say will crash soon.


    Darren wanted none of that.


    He suddenly began to see the profile get multiple likes and reactions including friend requests from numerous enthusiasts and business owners. It was the biggest one time purchase of Bitcoin ever, of course it would gather lots of attention.


    Since the app didn''t know it was him, he didn''t even have access to the profile, so he was just like others, viewing it from afar.


    Curious, he tried tapping the Like button of the profile that had nothing but a blank faceless profile picture and the single purchase, just to see if he could interact.


    A popup appeared.


    > Create an Account to Like and Comment!


    (Your registered email will automatically link to your existing transaction history.)


    Darren froze.


    If he created an account, it would instantly link his email and real name to FuglyDuckling. His identity would be exposed.


    Nope. Not happening.


    He quickly closed the app and tossed his phone onto the bed. Secrecy was the best course of action. For now, he would remain a ghost.


    Just as he was about to relax and think of what to do next, a new system notification came;


    Ding!


    ©³ System Notification ©¿


    ©³ New Phase Unlocked: Financial Mastery


    ©³For the next month, you will undergo intensive real-world investment training.


    Core Learning Topics:©¿


    ©³1? Assets Over Liabilities: The rich buy things that make money (assets), while the poor buy things that lose money (liabilities). Learn the difference and how to build assets.©¿


    ©³2? Aura Farming & Social Perception: Learn how public perception influences your power in the financial world. Keep your image strong, stoic and imposing at all times. Money creates status, but your character maintains it.©¿


    ©³3? Cash Flow Optimization: Learn how to efficiently allocate funds between investments and daily expenses.©¿


    ©³4? Multiple Streams of Wealth: Never rely on just one income source. Learn how to create different ways to make money.©¿


    ©³5? Smart Spending & Lifestyle Design: Flaunting is good and it increases your image, but flaunt like a billionaire, and never go broke. The secret isn''t what you buy ¡ª it''s how and why you buy it.©¿


    ©³6? Rival Takedowns: Finding weakness in rival business groups, attacking it and making them dance according to your rhythm.©¿


    ©³7? The Almighty Taxes: Everyone hates taxes. Learn how to manage and bypass them like billionaires do. How else do you think the rich stays rich?©¿


    ©³8? Money Should Work, Not Sit: The most important part. This is the aim of the Investor System. Learn why keeping money in a bank is a waste and how to put it to work in investments.©¿


    Darren''s fingers tightened into a fist.


    This system truly wanted to turn him into some cryptocurrency investment tycoon. Not that he was complaining, this was exactly what he needed. He was already good at finance, best in his class, but that knowledge came from textbooks and theoretical analysis.


    This?


    This was real-world experience.


    A slow grin spread across his face.


    ©³Let''s begin.©¿

 Chapter 13: Mystery Investor

    "Holy shi¡ª! Sir! Sir! Something unbelievable just happened!"


    The door to an exquisite office opened, showing a middle aged Japanese man sitting in the luxury of a high cushioned chair, behind a massive black marble desk.


    "What is it, Andy?" the man asked his employee with a heavy sigh.


    Andy Nashville, a senior analyst, stepped in briskly, a laptop tucked under his arm. He was a man in his late twenties, neatly dressed in a tailored navy suit, an expression of disbelief and excitement was on his face.


    He exhaled as he approached his boss, like he was still processing the information himself. "A record-breaking Bitcoin purchase was made just now."


    Sagomoto furrowed his brows. "Bitcoin?" His voice carried a hint of skepticism. "I saw in Business Today that the cryptocurrency was heading for a fall."


    "I can''t believe it myself too, sir. $82,500 worth."


    Sagomoto paused.


    His brows furrowed as he tried to get that number right in his mind. $82,500? On a cryptocurrency? "Impossible. No one would be reckless enough to throw that much into a speculative asset."


    "I''ll show it to you, sir!" Andy adjusted his glasses then excitedly walked around the marble desk, standing next to his boss.


    Then, he placed his laptop on the desk and turned the screen toward his boss, pulling up CryptoTracker, the social media platform for cryptocurrency enthusiasts and investors. There, in bold, highlighted text, was the notification:


    FuglyDuckling just purchased Bitcoin worth $82,500!


    The CEO''s expression froze. His fingers steepled under his chin as he read the words again. $82,500. A staggering amount for an asset even seasoned investors hesitated to touch.


    Mr. Kaito Sagomoto felt a rush of excitement and energy coursing through him. The kind that adventurers felt when the prospect of a new adventure came, the kind that hunters felt at the sight of a new game to hunt.


    It had been quite a long time since he felt that intense amount of excitement. He was the formidable CEO of Sagomoto Wealth Offices, one of the most exclusive private firms handling the finances of the ultra-rich.


    They handled everything from investments to philanthropy, legal matters, and even lifestyle management. They were one of the best in the state, only in rivalry against a branch of Moon Enterprises, Moon Wealth Management Offices.


    ''For someone to spend this much on an unproven cryptocurrency...'' Sagomoto pondered, eyes almost tearing up. ''It means one of two things ¡ª He must be someone willing to take risks, or someone who goes all in when he''s convinced of something. I am sure of it! I have found him! I found the man that I have been searching for my whole life. This man would be a great person to work with. Or better yet...'' He exhaled slowly. ''To work for.''


    ''Maintaining his finances, his expenditures, drafting his contracts, securing his ventures, assigning him the best lawyers to win his cases, settling lawsuits for him! I can build a dynasty with this man! For this man! Quickly, what is his name?''


    "Eh?" His eyes narrowed. "FuglyDuckling?"


    Sagomoto blinked. "Is that his name?" He pointed at the pseudonym on the purchase. "FuglyDuckling?"


    Andy cleared his throat. "It appears that the person who purchased the Bitcoin doesn''t have a CryptoTracker account. The platform automatically generated a placeholder to represent him so his purchase could be broadcasted."


    Sagomoto exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. A complete mystery investor. No profile, no details, nothing.


    "Are you saying that this our record buyer is a mystery man? A ghost?"


    "I''m afraid that''s the case, sir," Andy admitted.


    Sagomoto''s jaw clenched. His fingers drummed against his desk. ''Ah, so my destined client wants to play hard to get. He wants me to prove myself to him. I understand why he would want his secrecy, but I need him to be signed to my company!''


    Building courage, he straightened up. "No. I refuse to accept that." His eyes burned with resolve. "Andy, I don''t care what it takes, from today, your number one mission is to find him. Dig through purchase records, track wallet transactions, scan digital footprints. I want to know who this man is. And once you find him, as my top headhunter, you are to try to get me his signature."


    Andy nodded. "Understood, sir. I won''t fail you."


    "And if you succeed... Expect a significant raise."


    Hearing this, Andy immediately went to action.


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Meanwhile, across the city, inside a sleek skyscraper bearing the Moon Enterprises emblem, Ryan Anders leaned back in his leather chair, watching the city lights reflect off his whiskey glass.


    This was the headquarters for the subsidiary of Moon Enterprises, Moon Wealth Management Offices. And Ryan Anders was the CEO of the company.


    His eyes lifted from his glass cup as his secretary, Amelia, stepped into his office, placing a printed document on his desk.


    "Sir," she began, adjusting her glasses, "CryptoTracker just broadcasted a major Bitcoin investment. $82,500."


    Anders lifted a brow of interest. "$82,500? Who is this mad man on the loose and how can I catch him?" A mischievous smile spread below his nose. "That is a tremendous amount of money to invest in a currency bound for failure."


    He studied the printed paper. "That means a man like this wouldn''t hesitate if I pointed to where and where he should invest his money. Kekekeke. I love this kind of businessmen. Who is he?"


    Amelia hesitated. "The buyer is anonymous. No profile. No records."


    Anders''s eyes flickered with interest. "Oh?" He reached for the document once more, scanning it. "FuglyDuckling. That''s a comical name."


    A slow grin spread across his face. "So, we have a ghost investor, do we?"


    "Yes, sir. If he is a new business man in the game, should we begin the headhunting process?"


    Anders grinned wider "Without hesitation, Amelia." He placed his whiskey glass down. "I know this news has already reached the amateurs on the other side, but they couldn''t find a whale in an aquarium. A man like this, he would want to sign with the big boys. The big boys... are us."


    Amelia nodded uneasily.


    Her boss then stood up, causing her to move backwards slightly. Then he adjusted his tie. "Prepare for a hunt, Amelia. You will be doing it yourself, and make sure to dress... nice when you do. The cyber team will trace this purchase. Find out where the transaction was initiated and who''s behind it. Then you''ll go hunting"


    "Understood, sir." Amelia turned to leave.


    Watching her ass move temptingly in her skirt as she walked away, Anders sighed, picking up the paper once more. "Mister Duckling... You are going to make me richer, aren''t you?"


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Not very far away as well, in an extravagant penthouse, Adam Scotland swirled his glass of aged wine, staring at his laptop screen.


    The news had also reached his end.


    For many months, he had held the title of the largest Bitcoin holder ¡ª 150,000 BTC under his name. He had also been the most followed account on CryptoTracker having over 3 million followers.


    Somehow, Adam had always taken pride in that. Even though it was vain, it gave him a certain pleasure. An ego.


    But now?


    He took another sip, eyes narrowing at the screen.


    FuglyDuckling.


    This... mystery investor had just broken his records with one single purchase. Eighty two thousand fucking dollars worth of Bitcoin.


    And now, for the first time in months, Scotland was no longer the biggest individual holder. He was also no longer the most followed account in CryptoTracker.


    Even though FuglyDuckling was only a placeholder account, it already had 3.3 million followers, all amassed within the space of half a day! Something that had taken Scotland months to reach.


    A slow, frustrated sigh left his lips.


    It was completely vain. None of this mattered, yet it stung slightly.


    He could buy more Bitcoin. Of course, he could. He had hundreds of millions at his disposal. But was it worth the risk? Bitcoin was still seen as unstable, volatile, unpredictable. Certain to fall soon.


    As a businessman, he had to keep his ego in check and play it safe.


    But this Duckling was not playing it safe at all.


    His eyes narrowed at the profile on the screen, the bland, faceless profile picture and the name FuglyDuckling written below.


    And at that same moment, across different corners of the city, Sagomoto, Anders, and Scotland all asked the same question.


    "Who are you, mystery investor?"


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    The sliding doors of Morrison''s hospital entrance opened. Sunlight streamed into the white-tiled lobby, where patients, doctors, and nurses moved in quiet efficiency.


    Then, a young man stepped inside.


    He stood gallant and certain, adjusting his leather jacket as he looked around the place. He had dark brown hair, slicked back and neatly styled. His skin glowed like it was a reflection of the sun itself and his sharp, thick brows made his blue eyes blaze as he scanned the room.


    It was Darren Steele and he had come to see his mother.

 Chapter 14: Slightly Alike but Very Different

    Darren walked past everyone thoughtlessly. His gaze was straight ahead, one hand in his pocket and the other tapping his chin. The halls of the hospital had the usual ambient noise of busy people, some of which looked in his direction.


    Ordinarily, it seemed like he was just looking ahead and walking, but this was only because they could not see the system interface that his entire focus was on.


    "Sponsorships are the lifeblood of emerging businesses," he muttered under his breath, reading from a guide on corporate funding. "A successful sponsorship proposal must emphasize mutual benefit. The sponsor must believe they will gain more than they give. Having sponsors as a business tycoon increases your status and respect. Car companies such as Ferrari and Porsche are the kind of sponsors that should be appealing to you."


    Darren took a breath of understanding and also tiredness. For the past few days he''d been studying. Cramming. Devouring every bit of information on running a business, securing sponsorships, and mastering investments.


    The system was not going to let him off easy. Even though it had given him the means to be rich, it wanted to make sure that he knew how to maintain the wealth, even when it came in excess.


    Ding! The system announced a notification.


    ©³Test Time©¿


    ©³Question 1: What is the primary factor that influences an investor''s decision to fund a startup?©¿


    Darren exhaled. Easy. "Projected profitability, potential market growth, and risk assessment."


    ©³Correct!©¿


    He didn''t applaud himself and just quietly waited for the second question.


    ©³Question 2: What is the most effective way to ensure long-term sponsorship loyalty?©¿


    Darren hesitated. Consistent performance? Return on investment? He clicked his answer.


    ©³Incorrect! Incorrect!©¿


    The system''s rebuke flashed red.


    ©³You must study harder.©¿it chided.


    ©³One must be good to be a top investor, but to be the richest investor, one must be perfect.©¿


    ''Okay, okay. I get it.'' Darren replied. ''Next Question.''


    --------------------------------------------


    ©³Question 3... Correct!©¿


    ©³Question 4... Correct!©¿


    ©³Question 5... Correct!©¿


    ©³Question 10... Correct!©¿


    ©³Well done. You passed the test with a 90% score©¿


    ©³Grade A. Reward: 30% Discount on next random purchase©¿


    --------------------------------------------


    Small rewards like these were what Darren used to go about his days, purchasing items on cheaper prices and getting rebates as well.


    During this time, he had come to understand something about the Investor System. It never ever granted him money. No matter whatever he did, cash was never a price. All it could do was give him the means to make cash and then grant him rewards that could double it, reduce costs, lower the tax cuts and offer rebates.


    So the only way he could make more money was to first make money and then get the rewards that could make more money. Money on its own was never a reward.


    The Investor System indeed was a very disciplined system, and over the last three days, Darren had learnt to be just as disciplined.


    Having almost collided with one of the nurses, he returned back to the present and the interface disappeared.


    "I''m sorry," the nurse turned to him and said, then walked away.


    Darren looked surprised. Did that nurse just apologize to him? That''s new.


    He sunk his other hand in his pocket, twitching his nose at the horrible smell of hospitals that he hated. Antiseptic, cold, and impersonal.


    Making a face, he walked forward and stopped at the reception desk.


    That same nurse, Nurse Helen was there. Darren didn''t have any overreaction at seeing her, rather he just calmly sized her up before standing in waiting.


    The smacking noise of her chewing gum became irritating fast, but she still didn''t even bother to look up at first.


    "Who are you here to see?" she asked in a bored tone.


    "Patient 157," he answered.


    "Are you a relative?"


    "Yeah."


    She slid a clipboard toward him. "Sign here."


    Darren took the pen, tightening his fingers around it as he began to sign. He then noticed her raise her face to take a good look at him. Yet, she didn''t say anything.


    Something was weird today. Darren clearly remembered how it had been the last time he came here. The humiliation. The disgust in her voice. The way she had made him kneel, had laughed as he kissed her shoe.


    So why was it that none of that was happening today? This Nurse Helen appeared to be treating him like she would any other visitor.


    Even the people around him. Unlike those few days ago, they weren''t sneering. Weren''t whispering. No one looked at him like a piece of filth clogging up their perfect hospital.


    It couldn''t just be because he got a simple makeover was it? He had literally just taken a few hundred dollars from what he''d kept from the loan and used his minor discount and rebate rewards to go shopping.


    Were these people really that vain?


    Did they all just see his tailored leather jacket and his slicked back brown hair and then decided that indeed he was now worthy to be amongst them?


    For their information, this was the same Darren Steele they had mocked a few days ago. Just in better clothes!


    Or was it? Maybe there was something different. Something in the way he was carrying himself. However, it had just been three days. How much of him could change in only three days?


    Removing the thoughts from his head, he handed the signed form back.


    Nurse Helen picked it up and glanced at it. The moment recognition struck, her jaw slackened.


    "Darren Steele?" she blurted. "You''re that same pathetic guy?"


    She scanned him up and down, shock flickering in her expression. She saw his dark brown hair, styled neatly compared to how unkempt it was before. His jawline was even chiseled, his skin glowed, radiant and healthy, and she could swear he looked taller, or maybe it was his shoulders that were broader.


    "I mean... you still do look familiar, but you''re also completely different."


    Darren ignored her words, refusing to react. He only adjusted his jacket, glancing at the corridor that led to his mother''s hospital room.


    Nurse Helen cleared her throat, snapping back to her usual tone. "So you successfully made the payment, huh? Whatever god you worship must''ve finally granted a wish."


    He looked at her and raised one brow, but didn''t say anything.


    "How come you look completely different? It''s been what? Three da¡ª" She kept talking, but Darren didn''t care.


    Without another glance, he turned toward the corridor and started walking.


    ''Ehhhhh?'' Helen blinked, watching as he walked past. "Hey!" She stepped out of the table, watching him move with the kind of confidence that made people step aside instinctively.


    He walked coldly, hands still in his pockets. No care in the world.


    Helen scowled, then she began chasing after him. "Hey! Excuse me¡ª"


    But Darren didn''t stop. Didn''t even acknowledge her. He just continued to walk towards the room.


    ''What is it with this guy?'' the nurse thought and she stomped after him. ''No way he''s ignoring me right now.''


    Clearly there was something majorly different about him. But she was beneath his notice now.


    "Stop it!" she snapped. "Hey! I''m talking to you!"


    Darren suddenly came to a halt, causing her to stop as well, startled. For a moment, it was like she could sense his emotions, could feel the aura seeping out of him. There was no rage, no bitterness ¡ª only something that somehow even seemed worse.


    Cold indifference.


    "What do you want?" he looked over his shoulder and asked, his voice as smooth as a blade.


    Feeling a bit of fear from the way he snapped at her, Helen shot back; "I was talking to you and you just walked away. That''s rude!"

 Chapter 15: Discharge Submission

    Darren returned his gaze ahead. "I have no business with you," he said. "You act like you''re valuable but you are a nobody in this place. You''re not even good enough to be a real nurse. That''s why they put you on the reception table. Checking visits and signing in patients. No skill is needed for that. Bullying is the only thing you''re good at because that''s all you can do."


    Helen felt the words slice through her like a knife. "Wha¡ª why are you... How dare you say these things to me?"


    "As you know, I''ve paid the hospital bills," Darren continued, still looking ahead as she stared at his back. "So now, you have nothing left to use against me. Sleeping with one of the doctors might give you a little power, but don''t misconstrue it. You''re still a nobody."


    "Ngh!" she recoiled slightly in shock. ''How did he know?'' Although, it was very obvious that she must be sleeping with the doctor who had let her mistreat him those days ago. A normal doctor would not allow a receptionist nurse to do that, or to make decisions concerning a patient''s discharge.


    Darren finally looked over his shoulder once more. "You should get back to the reception desk like the errand girl you are ¡ª unless there will be an overwhelming line by the time you return."


    Helen''s breath hitched.


    This ¡ª this wasn''t the same boy she had humiliated and stepped on. She had seen him grovel. Seen him drop to his knees and kiss the very ground she walked on, just to beg for mercy. So why... Why was he standing there, speaking to her, while not even giving her the respect of looking at her face?


    How could he treat her like she was nothing?


    And why did he suddenly seem composed? Controlled?


    The realization made her stomach tighten. His sharp features, the way his hair was neatly combed back, the crispness of his new clothes ¡ª he truly looked like an entirely different person. This had to be his twin brother, his evil cousin! Something or someone because the change in his presence was heavy.


    It felt like he suddenly belonged to a world above her.


    Darren began to walk forward, but then stopped again.


    "Oh, and call the doctor for me," he ordered. "Since you''re the errand girl, I imagine that''s the kind of thing you''re paid to do. Tell him I need to talk about the next step in my mother''s health."


    Helen stood there, speechless.


    And just like that, he left her in the dust.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve earned yourself a Character Bonus©¿


    Inside the hospital room, his mother lay propped up on the bed, her eyes fluttering open when he stepped in. Darren barely had time to take in the sight before she let out a gasp of joy.


    "Darren!"


    He pulled his hands out of his pockets and hugged her as she reached for him, her arms wrapping around him in a weak but warm embrace. Her scent was familiar ¡ª soft, like lavender and hospital sheets. He held her gently, afraid that if he squeezed too hard, she might shatter.


    "You''re looking better," he murmured, his voice softer now.


    Her smile was bright, her frail fingers cupping his cheek. "And you... my boy, you''ve grown so much." Her eyes shined as she took in his appearance. "Oh my! You are all dressed up and shiny. Look at your hair, you actually combed it. You look like your father. Strong and handsome."


    Darren swallowed past the tightness in his throat. He couldn''t say anything to that.


    Instead, he sat beside her and took her hand.


    "I have good news," he said.


    She perked up, her lips curving into anticipation.


    "The hospital bills," he continued, "have been paid."


    His mother gasped. She pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears. Then, as if a dam had burst, she let out a joyous laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.


    "I told you!" she cried, squeezing his hand. "I told you that your uncle Jared hadn''t abandoned us! You kept saying he wouldn''t help, but I knew ¡ª I knew ¡ª he was a good man. Your father''s brother. He wouldn''t turn his back on us."


    Darren''s heart sank.


    Because the truth was, Jared had actually abandoned them. The very same day his father had died, Jared had turned away, leaving them to rot. His mother just refused to believe it.


    But Darren couldn''t tell her that he was the one who had paid. She wouldn''t believe him anyway because there was nowhere he could get that money in that house.


    And if he told her about the loan, she''d be horrified to learn that he had done business with drug dealers to save her life.


    So he forced a small smile.


    "Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess you were right."


    She nodded, beaming. "Oh, Darren. This is wonderful. Finally, we don''t have to live in fear. Finally... we can breathe."


    He watched her, his heart heavy, but he didn''t let it show.


    Instead, they talked. He listened as she reminisced about better days, about his childhood, about how proud she was of him.


    She had asked questions concerning how things were going in the Smithers Group as she knew he was an intern there, but didn''t know yet that he resigned.


    Darren simply told her everything was fine, avoiding discussions that had difficult explanations.


    Then, as their conversation went on, a knock came at the door.


    Darren turned as Doctor Gerald stepped in, adjusting his glasses.


    "Ah, Doctor Gerald," Darren greeted smoothly. He rose from his seat, giving his mother one last glance. "I wanted to talk about something important."


    Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Let''s speak outside."


    They stepped into the corridor.


    The doctor, who couldn''t believe that this was the same Darren Steele of just a few days ago standing before him, stared with shock.


    "So... What do you wish to talk about? Is it regarding her upcoming surgery?"


    "I plan to take my mother away from this place soon," Darren firmly stared. "I won''t be needing your services any longer."


    The doctor blinked. "...What?"

 Chapter 16: In a Haste

    Doctor Gerald, who was fatefully the same doctor who had forced him to kneel and beg the last time, now stood stiffly in the hospital corridor, a polite but forced smile plastered across his face.


    He didn''t know how to respond to such an odd statement. Darren''s mother, Pamela Steele, was suffering from intense advanced aortic stenosis. Death was inevitable if she wasn''t hospitalized strictly, so the idea of discharging her early, right before surgery too, was a strange one. Ill advised, he would say.


    Behind his glasses, his eyes flickered with calculation. He had dealt with many patients and their families ¡ª some desperate, some grateful, others too poor to be worth the trouble. But this Darren... What was up with him?


    He was something else entirely.


    Just three days ago, this boy had been nothing. Another helpless wretch doomed to drown in debt and poverty. But somehow, he had paid the hospital fee of over $100,000 the next day. Just as he said he would.


    How and why? He must have borrowed the money! Indeed. But... dressed in such fine clothes, having such tasteful mannerism. One couldn''t borrow that kind of presence and style.


    What was he? Some secret heir of a family wealth like in those drama shorts? Whatever he was, he had paid the expensive hospital bill they slapped on him, even when they fully never expected him to.


    That made him an important client. Someone worth keeping in their established hospital.


    "Mr. Steele," Gerald began, his voice smooth and professional. "I do not understand. You have paid the bills. Why would you want to take her away after?"


    "Does the why really matter?" Darren asked him with a cold raise of his brow.


    The doctor lowered his gaze. "I apologize for acting ignorant. My actions from three days ago must be the reason for this. Please, forgive both mine and the nurse''s actions. We had no idea that you were not..."


    "What?" Darren urged him on. "Not poor?"


    The doctor''s eyes widened and they looked away in guilt. He had to use another tactic, and the best route was the boy''s mother. Emotional tactics always worked.


    "I understand your frustrations, but surely, you wouldn''t want to make a hasty decision. Your mother has been receiving some of the best care available. Her recovery is our priority."


    Darren''s face remained unreadable, his cold gaze drilling into the doctor.


    "You''ve already gotten what you wanted," he said calmly. "The money''s in your pockets, isn''t it?"


    Dr. Gerald''s mouth twitched. "I wouldn''t say that¡ª"


    "But it''s true," Darren cut in. "You people don''t actually care about patients, do you? You''re only concerned about who''s worth keeping and who''s worth tossing away. When we couldn''t pay, you treated us like pests. Now that you see I''m able to pay off such a bill, suddenly, I''m worth negotiating with?"


    The doctor didn''t respond. But his hesitation said everything.


    Darren took a slow step forward, exuding quiet, effortless dominance. When he spoke next, it was like his voice was hammering inside the doctor''s heart.


    "Don''t act so concerned, doctor. At least you''ve been paid. At least you''ve made your profit. That''s what you really wanted, right?"


    Helen, who had been silently watching from the edge of the corridor, swallowed hard.


    Gerald exhaled, adjusting his glasses. "Mr. Steele, let''s not be hasty¡ª"


    "Hasty?" Darren''s voice carried a hint of irritation. "You think I''m in a haste, doctor? I don''t even think I was fast enough. I wish I had woken up to your shenanigans earlier, though I don''t think I would have been able to do anything about it then. The real question is ¡ª how many others have you fooled like this?"


    The doctor stiffened.


    "You gave me a false representation of the costs of hospitality," Darren continued, his voice dropping an octave. "My mother hasn''t even undergone surgery, and yet you''ve drained over a hundred grand from us."


    Gerald swallowed.


    It was true.


    ''I used the Insight Protocol to extract some information about the hospital before I came in, including hospital bill costs for varying illnesses pre-surgery. The price they made me pay, it could''ve covered Mom''s intensive surgery, yet it was just for basic care. It''s a tool some of the crook doctors in this hospital used, working with the nurses to exploit the desperate. And they''ve always gone away with it.''


    ''Until now.''


    Nurse Helen took a step back when Darren mentioned the scam they pulled and Doctor Gerald moved uneasily.


    Though there wasn''t anything he could do to them, Darren was just making it clear that he wasn''t some desperate kid as they envisioned him to be at first.


    And they realized it too because in fact, he was the first person to find out about this.


    Darren slid his hands into his pockets, looking at the shamed doctor with a curious face. "You wouldn''t even deny it?" he asked. "Well, at least you have shame."


    He sighed. "I''m not unreasonable. I''ll wait until the payment for the month''s hospital bill runs down by the end of the week. After that, I''ll move my mother to a real hospital. One that isn''t run by frauds."


    Helen let out a tiny gasp.


    Gerald clenched his fists, his mind racing.


    If they let Darren walk out, they weren''t just losing a client¡ªthey were losing an asset. If he could pay this much in a day, then how much more was he capable of?


    His lips parted, a final attempt at persuasion forming in his mind.


    But Darren was already turning away.


    "Save your breath," he murmured. "Although I would love to have you two begging me this time, I''d save that for another day, when I decide to take down this establishment and leave the both of you unemployed."


    The doctor''s eyes widened. ''He''s kidding right? He has to be kidding.''


    ''What the hell is he talking about?!'' Nurse Helen pondered with a pounding heart.


    After saying goodbye to his mother, dropping the rose and cookies he came with, he walked off, ignoring the two of them standing and watching.


    ''Don''t worry. I haven''t even started with either of you yet.''


    ''Helen...'' he paused, standing right beside the nurse before turning to his left to look at her. Both their eyes locked, her confused terrified eyes gazing at his cold, apathetic ones.


    ''She will be the first to suffer.''


    Moments later, he stepped out of a taxi and entered into a large but humble building. It was Holloway Medicals, a growing hospital in the city just starting to make a name for itself.


    -----------------------------------------------


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Holloway Medicals is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Net Worth: $567 million©¿


    ©³Primary Income: Patient care, innovative medical research, pharmaceutical development, government and private healthcare contracts©¿


    ©³Owner: Dr. Leonard Holloway©¿


    ©³Known for: High-quality patient care, affordable but advanced treatments, ethical medical practices, groundbreaking research into chronic and terminal illnesses©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Tactics: Prioritizes medical advancement over profit, invests in cutting-edge treatments, offers fair pricing compared to other private institutions, supports low-income patients through medical grants©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: Strong potential ally. Try to secure long-term cooperation with company.©¿


    -----------------------------------------------


    That was completely Darren''s mission.


    Owned by Dr. Leonard Holloway, Holloway Medicals was also a competing hospital with Morrison''s. But because of how big and how sponsored Morrison''s was, Holloway Medicals just like others, had to continue to fight for other positions in the hierarchy of medicine for the state.


    Nevertheless, the hospital was more focused on their patients and how to save them. This meant that they were the exact kind of people he could trust, albeit they were still very expensive which was why he couldn''t admit his mother there in the first place.


    Darren understood. Medicine was expensive, and a doctor''s reputation in the medical world was currency.


    Although Dr James Morrison barely worked now and only had his hired doctors for the work, he was still the most reputable doctor in the state.


    Today, Darren was here to offer that title to Dr. Leonard Holloway.


    Pretending to a busy nurse that he was there for a routine check up, he managed to gain access into one of the hospital rooms. Soon after, Dr. Holloway stepped inside.


    "Hello there, patient. Sorry to keep you waiting, I¡ª" he paused, staring at Darren. "I''m sorry, but I do not think I recognize you."


    Darren took a good look at the man.


    Holloway was tall and sharp-eyed. Evidently in his late forties and dressed in the expected crisp white coat. His gray-streaked hair gave him an air of wisdom, and his piercing green eyes assessed Darren with curiosity.


    "Who are you exactly?" the doctor asked.


    Darren didn''t give any facial reaction. "I''m the man who''s going to make you rich, Doctor Holloway."


    The doctor lifted a confused brow.

 Chapter 17: First Business Ally

    "I''m the man who''s going to make you rich, Dr. Holloway."


    The doctor lifted a brow. As moving as words like that were, Holloway was barely impressed. He had dealt with people like this before ¡ª businessmen, inventors, con artists, all eager to pitch some "revolutionary" idea, some shortcut to wealth. In his line of work, these types were nothing more than distractions, feeding off the desperation of others.


    He sighed, already annoyed. "If you''re here to sell me some get-rich scheme, you can leave now."


    "Gee, I feel insulted," Darren spoke with an emotionless voice.


    Standing there for a while and seeing that the intruder had no plans to leave, Dr. Holloway turned to the door. "I''m calling security."


    "How many patients have you lost... because there wasn''t a cure for their illness?"


    Holloway''s hand stopped as he reached for the nob. His face turned back to Darren. "What?"


    "You''re a good man, Dr. Holloway. You wish you could save everyone, but you know you are limited by the medical advancements of this time, even though we have come very far."


    The doctor appeared confused. "This time? Wha¡ª why are you telling me this? What do you mean?"


    Darren stood up from the check up bed he''d been sitting on, arms folded. "I''m the kind of man who knows things." He spoke with certainty, his voice steady and sure. "How I know things doesn''t matter. I''d never tell anyone, but you should believe me when I say I know things."


    Holloway was unimpressed. His disbelief was obvious in the way his brows creased, the skepticism in his gaze. ''Who''s this crazy kid?''


    Darren saw the disbelief and decided to hit the doctor with some of the things he knew.


    "Take for example; I know that you and Dr. Morrison went to school together. Harvard. And now, even though you were once friends, he''s doing everything possible to keep your company down while lifting his up."


    Holloway''s expression faltered, eyes widened as he moved backwards in surprise. "How do you¡ª?"


    Darren cut him off. "Yet, despite that, you refuse to face him head-on. You keep your focus on treating your patients, which is admirable. But if you continue this way, your hospital is going to be demolished in six years time. You''ll be forced to file for bankruptcy. And everyone will quickly forget about you because Morrison is a powerful man." His voice lowered. "And he''s only going to get more powerful as time goes on."


    The silence in the office thickened. Holloway swallowed, quickly starting to believe the boy as some of these things were already happening in the background.


    "How do you know these things?"


    Darren exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Remember what I said? It doesn''t matter. How I know it doesn''t come into play, it''s completely trivial to this discussion."


    Holloway frowned, confused and disappointed. Noticing this, Darren decided to offer something to calm the doctor''s thoughts and make his claim more believable.


    "I''m a business specialist and a company success tracker," he explained. "I analyze trends, predict financial trajectories, and recognize patterns that determine whether a company will flourish or collapse. My expertise allows me to assess risks, pinpoint weaknesses, and ensure survival in a competitive industry. Your company''s survival is one of the lowest in the state, Dr. Holloway."


    Even though he believed that, Holloway still looked skeptical. "So what do you want, then? To offer me a way to stop my company from collapsing?" His tone was laced with suspicion. "Obviously, you''d want money. And how do I even know Morrison didn''t send you himself? Maybe that''s how you know all these things."


    Darren didn''t react to the accusation. Instead, he reached into his pocket and placed a small folded document on the desk. "Hepatitis C."


    Holloway frowned, hesitantly picking up the paper.


    "Hepatitis C is a lifelong infection. The only available treatment we have now is interferon-based therapy. It has extreme side effects, and a low cure rate. Patients suffer for years."


    Darren looked at Holloway as he scanned the paper. "But no one has tried using direct-acting antivirals. I project a 95% cure rate. Do you see the graph? The proof?"


    Holloway''s hands tightened around the paper, eyes quivering. "This can''t be real."


    "Test it then." Darren slipped his hands into his pockets. "I can wait."


    Holloway stared at him, then at the document in his hands. Not wasting any time, he rushed to his desk, flipping through research papers before powering up his computer.


    His hands moved swiftly ¡ª typing, scanning, cross-referencing data. Then, he hurried over to the microscope, adjusting the lenses, testing the chemical composition.


    Seconds stretched into minutes. Tension. Thick tension and excitement.


    Then, he gasped, covering his mouth with his hand as his eyes popped out wide with disbelief.


    "I can''t believe it. This is... this is revolutionary," he muttered. He turned to Darren, his voice barely above a breath. "This is going to change the world."


    Darren shook his head. "No. You''re going to change the world, Dr. Holloway." He held the man''s gaze firmly. "A doctor''s reputation is currency. The doctor with the most medical breakthroughs will be the most powerful in the state, the country ¡ª hell, even the world."


    Holloway was still struggling to comprehend it. His eyes flickered from the formula to Darren. "Breakthroughs?" His voice wavered. "Are you saying you know more cures to illnesses?"


    Darren remained expressionless. "Not all. But plenty enough."


    Holloway exhaled, then gave him a suspicious gaze. "And you know all this by being a... company success tracker?"


    Darren''s lips barely twitched. "You''ve run out of subscription for asking questions, especially concerning how I know what I know."


    Chuckling excitedly at the quirky joke, showing that he didn''t care as long as he got more medical breakthroughs like this, Holloway looked back at the computer, still overwhelmed, gripping the edge of his desk.


    Darren continued. "I''m willing to tell you more. Plenty more. But in return, you''ll agree to treat my mother for free and become my business ally."


    Holloway blinked, taken aback. It was a very simple demand for such an enigmatic young man. "Your mother?" He hesitated. "What illness does she have?"


    "Aortic stenosis," Darren answered. "She needs surgery soon."


    Holloway''s brows furrowed. He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I can do that. The money I''ll get from this cure alone will earn me hundreds of millions. Covering a surgery is nothing compared to that."


    Darren tilted his head. "Good. And will you be my business ally?" He placed both hands on the desk, leaning in slightly. "Being my ally means you''ll grant me lifelong free healthcare from this moment on, while I give you what I know about medicinal cures."


    Holloway barely hesitated this time. "Yes. I agree."


    "But..." Darren had more. "Since I can very well offer this deal to many other doctors in the state..."


    Holloway looked worried.


    "...the medicinal cures are going to be bought. They won''t be expensive of course. For you, Dr Holloway, I''ll sell for the lowest price of $2 million and the highest of $7 million."


    "$7 million?" The doctor raised his brow, thinking to himself. "That is a lot of money."


    "You said it yourself, Doctor. One of these cures will give you hundreds of millions of dollars. Not to talk about the reputation and status that comes with it."


    "You''re right," the doctor agreed after a short thought. "I accept your terms."


    Darren straightened, satisfied by that answer. "Can you draft a contract right now?"


    "Indeed!" Holloway''s excitement surged. His fingers twitched in exhilaration as he left the room, practically stumbling in his eagerness. "Just a second!" He typed and printed out a fresh contract, his heart pounding. He had never felt such a rush of thrill before.


    When he returned, he placed the document in front of Darren. "Here. You can read through it if you want."


    Darren took his time scanning every detail. Once he was finished, the system flickered in front of his vision.


    ©³Contract Scanning...©¿


    ©³Legitimacy Confirmed. No deceit detected.©¿


    Satisfied, Darren picked up a pen and signed his name. Holloway quickly followed, signing right beside Darren''s.


    Ding!


    A notification flashed in Darren''s interface.


    -------------------------------------------


    ©³Congratulations!©¿


    ©³You have secured a Business Ally.©¿


    ©³Ally: Leonard Holloway


    Company: Holloway Medicals


    Rank: C+


    Information: This Ally is averagely strong but has very high potential. Dr. Holloway is the kind of Ally you can always trust with minimal to zero chances of betrayal.©¿


    ©³Loyalty: 6/10©¿


    -------------------------------------------


    Darren looked at Holloway, watching as he studied the contract with an eager gleam in his eyes.


    "When can I expect another cure? Not that I''m rushing you, fine sir."


    Darren almost smiled. "I''ll be bringing my mother by the end of the week," he stated. "Before the surgery begins and when it''s over, I''ll give you two more cures."


    Holloway, still in awe, flipped through the contract again before pausing. He frowned slightly. "This is all very exciting, but... you didn''t write your name in the blank spaces. Your signature isn''t exactly clear, either." He extended a hand. "It''s great doing business with you. But what is your name, young sir?"


    "My name is not necessary," Darren said as he accepted the handshake. "But you can refer to me as Mr. Duckling."

 Chapter 18: Little Trash Talk

    Darren stepped out of Holloway Medicals with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, keeping his expression as solid as ever.


    A lot had just happened. But in all, it was another successful block built in setting the foundation to his success.


    In one move, he had secured his first business ally¡ª Dr. Leonard Holloway. A man of great potential. A doctor who, given the right tools and resources, could become one of the most powerful medical figures in the country. All he had to do was guide him there.


    Of course, their alliance had to remain a secret.


    Darren had made that very clear before leaving the office. Holloway was to never speak of their relationship or his identity to anyone. If questioned about how he suddenly began discovering medical breakthroughs, he would have to come up with something himself.


    Darren had no doubt the man was intelligent enough to fabricate a convincing lie.


    And if he wasn''t?


    Well... that would be his problem, not Darren''s.


    Ding!


    The sound of the system''s notification echoed in his mind.


    ©³Character Bonus Achieved!©¿


    Darren arched a brow slightly, intrigued. Another Character Bonus? That''s two on one day. The system must be really impressed by what I''ve done so far.


    He was about to carry on, when he got another notification affirming that the Character Bonuses had unlocked a new Feature.


    Ding!


    ©³New Feature Unlocked: Loyalty & Affection Reader!©¿


    Darren paused mid-step. His interest piqued.


    The system''s text continued scrolling before his eyes.


    -------------------------------------------


    ©³Loyalty & Affection Reader©¿


    ©³This Feature grants the system access to a subject''s true feelings toward the host. It does not read their general emotions towards other people. Only, emotions thoughts and intentions exclusively toward the host can be read.©¿


    ©³As a Prime Investor, it is crucial to detect lies, deceit, or hidden agendas. This Feature ensures that you will always know a person''s true intentions, no matter how well they try to conceal them.©¿


    ------------------------------------------


    Darren let out a quiet breath.


    A tool that let him see through deception?


    That was incredibly useful.


    Not just in business, but in social interactions in general.


    "That''s a really functional feature," Darren murmured, nodding slightly. "It''ll make negotiations much easier... and help me avoid getting stabbed in the back."


    There were too many people who wore false masks ¡ª whether in business, friendships, or even family. Having something that could strip away pretense would put him at a major advantage.


    Straightening his coat, he continued walking. "Alright, system. Go back to the lessons. Move on to tackling heavy taxes."


    The system responded immediately.


    ©³Agreed. Resuming Lesson: Strategies for Managing Heavy Taxation¡ª©¿


    Before the lesson could begin, a sudden vibration buzzed in his pocket.


    Darren halted, pulling out a BlackBerry button phone that had clearly seen better days. The screen had a small crack on the corner, and the edges were scuffed from years of use. The buttons, though still functional, felt loose.


    He really needed a new phone. Maybe he could purchase one. What was the best phone in the market around this time?


    Darren''s memories danced in his head as he remembered the buzz around the iPhone 4, the Nokia 8 and the BlackBerry Bold Series. He wouldn''t mind getting one of those.


    However, after second thought, he imagined that having a wretched looking phone like this would keep him out of the conversation of wealth, until he was ready to showcase himself to the world.


    Still, he glanced at the caller ID.


    Sandy.


    Darren''s gaze lingered on the name for a moment. It was Sandy Meyers.


    He hadn''t seen her since he left the Smithers Group almost four days ago. She must be confused as to why he had left so abruptly.


    Since she was his second boss back when he worked then, it was understandable that she''d be confused about his sudden departure.


    Back then, she had treated him like a son offering guidance, scolding him when necessary, and looking out for him when others in the company treated him like nothing.


    Now, though...


    He glanced at his own reflection in a shop window. His younger face stared back.


    He and Sandy were probably around the same age now. Weren''t they? She was 32 right? And this was his older self in his younger body, so...


    Laughably, he realized that that didn''t matter. Just like everyone else, Sandy didn''t know it was his older, matured self in this body and that''s why they all treated him like a child.


    Shaking the thought aside, he answered the call.


    "Hey, Darren!" Sandy''s voice was warm and lighthearted with a hint of relief in it. "I was half-worried you wouldn''t answer."


    Darren''s voice was cool as ever. "Why?"


    "Well," she exhaled, "because Lily said she''s been trying to reach you, but you keep ignoring her."


    Darren''s lips curled slightly. Is that so?


    His tone remained even. "Did Lily tell you to call me?"


    "Oh! No, of course not." Sandy quickly dismissed the idea. "I just wanted to speak with you myself. Especially to thank you for what you did."


    Darren hummed. "For what, exactly?"


    "For freeing us from that ridiculous contract Gareth Smithers made us sign," Sandy explained. "I finally resigned yesterday and if it wasn''t for you, I would''ve been stuck working for him for another two months ¡ª without pay too."


    Darren tilted his head slightly, surprised. "Really? You resigned?"


    "Yes," Sandy confirmed, exhaling sharply. "I just couldn''t handle him anymore. Too condescending. Too insulting. I had enough."


    Darren smirked faintly. "Well, I can say you''re welcome, but to be honest, I was only doing it to be free myself."


    He could hear Sandy''s smile. "No need to be meek. You did all of us a favor. Maybe with this, Gareth will treat his employees better knowing they could leave at any time they want."


    "Yeah, I guess you''re right."


    However, in Darren''s mind, a different thought was playing out.


    Sandy had resigned. That meant she wouldn''t be fired two years later like she did in the former timeline. And if she wasn''t fired, then her career wouldn''t be ruined by the scandal that happened.


    His actions had already changed the course of her future. Completely.


    Geez. Darren had become her hero without even knowing it. He felt like Barry Allen, messing up the timeline.


    Sandy''s voice broke eventually through his thoughts. "Anyway, I wanted to personally thank you in person." There was a playful note in her tone. "I also just miss your face."


    Darren blinked.


    A slight warmth brushed the tips of his ears.


    He cleared his throat lightly. "Oh. Well, I''m really busy but..."


    "Busy? Come on, Darren. This is the one chance we have to speak freely about the company. We don''t work for them anymore. Couldn''t you use a little trash talk and a get together." She sighed. "I know I would."


    Darren thought for a moment and then agreed. "Alright. Let''s set a date, then."


    Sandy didn''t even hesitate. "How about tonight?"


    Darren stopped walking.


    "...Tonight?" His brows rose slightly in surprise.


    "Yeah!" she said, sounding excited. "I''ll be at Castle Cottage. Meet me there."


    And before he could even respond¡ª


    Click.


    She hung up.


    Darren slowly lowered the phone. Then, after a long pause¡ª


    He swore under his breath.


    Sliding the beat-up BlackBerry back into his pocket, he looked up at the system interface still hovering before him.


    "Forget the lesson, system," he muttered.


    ©³Canceling lesson.©¿


    "You''re gonna help me pick out some clothes."

 Chapter 19: Castle Cottage

    Castle Cottage was a charming outdoor restaurant, nestled on a quiet street corner, illuminated by the warm glow of hanging lanterns.


    It was an affordable restaurant, with the sight of a small lake beside it and the night stars above.


    It had wooden tables arranged neatly beneath a canopy of intertwined vines and soft fairy lights, pouring their golden shimmer across the space. A low stone wall, partially covered in ivy, enclosed the dining area, giving it a cozy, secluded feel, despite being in the heart of the city.


    The air carried the scent of freshly baked bread and grilled meats, mingling with the faint aroma of wine from the nearby bar counter.


    Even with an unpretentious atmosphere such as this, it was still a refined place where people gathered for quiet conversations over good food, rather than extravagant displays of wealth.


    Just outside the entrance, Darren stood, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed and composed.


    He had arrived some seconds ago and was trying to find Miss Meyers amongst the crowd of people.


    He was putting on a blue, long-sleeved button-up shirt, neatly tucked into plain ash trousers that fit him just right ¡ª not too tight, not too loose. The subtle fabric folds shifted slightly in the evening breeze, adding to his effortless, put-together look.


    His hair was combed backwards and he had taken a shower and put on some cologne just before coming out. He didn''t want to feel like he was overdressed as he was merely coming out to see his former boss, so he decided not to wear a blazer and look as boy scout-ish as possible.


    "Darren!" he suddenly heard his name being called.


    He moved his gaze to the right end corner of the place, catching a waving hand and a smiling face. It was Miss Meyers.


    A warm smile brightened her face as he met her gaze. Darren was surprised. He had never seen her like this before ¡ª outside the stiff walls of the company, free from the confines of business attire. It was... different.


    She wore a casual but elegant cream-colored blouse tucked into high-waisted navy blue trousers, the fabric cinching neatly around her slim frame. Her long, golden-brown hair, usually tied back in a tight bun at work, now flowed past her shoulders in soft, wavy locks.


    The ambient glow of the fairy lights above made her hazel eyes shimmer, her features softer, more radiant than he had ever noticed before.


    The system chimed in his head.


    ©³Notice: Investor System has discerned a spike in host''s emotional state.©¿


    Darren scoffed. ''Spike in my emotional state? There is no spike in my emotional state.''


    ©³Cause of spike has been identified as a romantic chemical reaction to the sight of Miss Meyers.©¿


    He instantly frowned. What? Romantic reaction? That was ridiculous. His expression darkened as he muttered under his breath, "Must be a malfunction." He had no reason to romantically react to Miss Meyers.


    Sure, she looked good, but... she was Miss Meyers. She was his boss. Former boss at least.


    Pushing the notification out of his mind, he made his way toward her, sliding his hands deeper into his pockets.


    "Darren!" she called out again, grinning.


    He reached the table and nodded. "Miss Meyers."


    She pouted. "Oh, come on. I''m not your boss anymore. Just call me Sandy."


    Before he could respond, she stepped forward and pulled him into a brief hug. He stiffened slightly, not out of discomfort, but out of sheer unfamiliarity.


    Her breasts were basically squeezing his ribs as her hand locked around his back. Sandy had always been warm, but hugs? That was new.


    As she pulled away, she gestured toward the seat opposite hers. "Sit, sit. Oh my, you look really good, by the way. And you... you smell good too."


    Even after making deals with powerful men in the last few days, Darren ¡ª like many other men ¡ª still didn''t know how to handle a compliment from an attractive woman.


    "Thank you," he managed to utter as he sat down, adjusting his sleeves slightly. "You also look really good. I mean, casual suits you."


    Sandy beamed. "Thank you! And for the record, I feel ten pounds lighter not having to wear a pencil skirt every day."


    Darren broke a smile.


    Ding!


    ©³This person is excited to see you©¿


    Darren frowned. What was that? After a quick thought, he realized that it was the Loyalty & Affection Reader feature he had unlocked.


    ''So that''s how it works.''


    After they ordered ¡ª a simple dish with wine ¡ª the conversation eased into a familiar rhythm as they settled in.


    "So," Sandy began, resting her arms on the table. "Your resignation is still a surprise to us, everyone was shocked. Lily the most, but everyone also couldn''t believe it. It came out of nowhere. We all remember how super excited you were to be working there. But I understand. Our boss was hell himself. So..." she smiled at him. "How have things been for you?"


    "I get it," Darren replied. "But I realized Gareth didn''t really care about me or have my best interest at heart. He was just using me for what I knew, so I had to leave. I''m doing fine now actually."


    That brought a smile to Sandy''s face. "I''m really happy to hear that. And how about your mother? Is she still...?"


    "She''s still in the hospital, yes." Darren hesitated for a second but then continued. "But my uncle finally has paid the bill."


    A relieved smile crossed her face. "Oh, that''s wonderful! I was really hoping things would work out. I had almost begun setting up a GoFundMe. I didn''t want to tell you then, but I can now I guess."


    Darren chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. Of course it was completely like Sandy to go out of her way to help someone. Especially him. She''d done it multiple times, especially in the former timeline and he couldn''t be more grateful for her.


    "But let''s not talk about me," he said, placing the glass on the table. "What about you? Now that you''re free from the clutches of Gareth Smithers, what''s next?"


    Sandy let out a chuckle. "Free from him, indeed." She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "Honestly, I still can''t believe I lasted that long. The man was a menace."


    Darren half-smirked. "That''s putting it lightly."


    She huffed. "He was awful. He''d ask me to do things that were completely inappropriate, and when I refused, he''d punish me by drowning me in workloads." Her expression hardened slightly. "I tried my best to stay away from him without being too disrespectful. I really did, Darren, but he just kept pushing and pushing. Asking me to do things..."


    Darren''s eyes darkened as he listened.


    Of course. The scandal. It was supposed to happen in the next few years. Apparently, she couldn''t hold back anymore and responded to Gareth''s advances in a violent manner.


    Then she filed a suit against him that ended up destroying her own career because of his powerful lawyers.


    Sandy continued. "I can not forget how he deliberately lowered my pay once because of it. I wanted to sue him, but with the kind of lawyers he has on payroll? It wasn''t worth it."


    Ah, speaking of that. You did end up suing him. Although it was for something else. Thank God for this new timeline, eh?


    Darren scoffed. "If you couldn''t take him down, at least you escaped."


    "I''m happy I did," she admitted, exhaling a deep breath. "But I still worry about Rachel. I hope she finds a way to quit soon."


    Darren frowned in thought. ''Rachel.''


    She was Gareth''s secretary. The quiet, stern young woman. They had never really talked and had only crossed each other''s paths once or twice, but she always carried the look of someone who had resigned herself to a cage she couldn''t escape.


    "Do you have a company in mind you want to join?" Darren asked, thinking no more of it. "Or did Smithers blacklist you?"

 Chapter 20: Sandys Strategy

    Sandy shook her head. "No, he already blacklisted you. If he did it to me too, along with everyone else who resigned, that would be a legitimate reason for law enforcement to look into him for deliberate career sabotage. He didn''t want to risk that."


    "May be the only smartest thing he''s ever done," Darren muttered.


    "However, I''m thinking of putting my dream of working for one of the three Empire Companies of the state on hold for now."


    Darren raised a brow. "I remember you telling me that. It is... ambitious."


    "Well, can you blame me?" she teased.


    The Empire Companies was the tag for the most powerful and wealthiest companies in the state.


    In Dos Alverez, there were three of them.


    They were: Moon Enterprises belonging to Archibald Mooney, Morrison''s Hospitals and Medical Group belonging to Richard Morrison, and The Bordeaux Corporation belonging to Cheyenne Bordeaux.


    These companies were basically the big bad bosses of other companies. Every business sought to align with them, and any professional dreamed of securing a position under their name.


    They were also part of the NECC ¡ª Nationwide Empire Companies Conglomerate, a network of all the other Empire Companies spanning across all the states, dominating every industry imaginable.


    Empire Companies were not to be messed with. A company has to have at least a 10 billion net worth in order to even be considered to be one.


    Darren nodded. "You''re right. And you''re one of the smartest people I know. You''re good at what you do. If anyone could do it. You can.


    Sandy smiled, gazing at him for a while before saying, "That''s a really nice thing to say, Darren."


    Ding!


    ©³This person has a profound liking for you©¿


    Darren gulped silently. ''A profound liking? What does that even mean?''


    "It also means a lot coming from you, the finance guru if I dare say," she blushed.


    Ding!


    ©³This person admires you greatly!©¿


    Darren ignored the notification.


    "Which is also why I invited you here and why I''m putting my dreams on a slight hold," she continued. "I''ve been feeling inspired lately."


    He leaned forward slightly. "Inspired?"


    She pulled out her phone; a sleek, high-end Asha model, definitely a step above his own.


    "Remember when you told me to download that CryptoTracker app because ''cryptocurrency is the future''?" she asked, eyes gleaming with excitement.


    Darren''s gaze sharpened. "Yeah...?"


    ''Hold on. She''s not doing what I think she''s doing right? This can''t be because...''


    "Well," she continued, "I barely paid any attention to the app but just a few days ago, my phone kept buzzing with notification after notification and when I checked it, I saw that this unverified account; FuglyDuckling had made a record purchase. Over eighty thousand dollars in Bitcoin." She shook her head in amazement.


    Darren acted shocked. "80 thousand dollars. If I had that kind of money, I... definitely wouldn''t spend it all on Bitcoin."


    "But he did," Sandy said with astonishment, moving her hair out of the way of her glistening eyes. "When I saw it... It felt like a sign. A divine intervention or something. And I thought... why not? So, I went all in."


    Darren stared at her. "You went all in?"


    She grinned uncertainly. "Is that a bad thing? I know it sounds crazy. But I just had this feeling. This feeling of certainty that I must have sapped from this mystery man''s own certainty. So, I did it. I invested a thousand dollars. I bought Bitcoin."


    There was a brief silence before Darren exhaled a quiet chuckle. "You actually bought Bitcoin."


    "Yep." She gave him a playful nudge and hid her face shyly. "Be proud of me."


    "I am proud of you," he admitted, shaking his head.


    Sandy smirked. "You did suggest it, after all."


    Darren nodded, a small smirk of his own forming. "That''s true. And I''m proud that you listened."


    But in his mind, his thoughts ran differently.


    What are the odds? Is Miss Meyers trying to be an investor now? Or is she just trying her luck? I mean despite the news of the incoming crash, she still bought Bitcoin worth $1000.


    FuglyDuckling''s purchase inspired her.


    If only she knew... His eyes narrowed. That it was the same person sitting across from her at this moment.


    "I wish you luck," he said.


    Sandy suddenly paused, a look of realization crossing her face. "Oh my God."


    Darren blinked. "What?"


    "I just realized how insensitive that must have sounded," she said, her brows furrowing. "Squandering a thousand bucks like that... I''m so sorry, Deremiah." Her expression turned serious. "Are you sure everything''s okay? You left the company ¡ª do you have another job yet? If you need money, I can help."


    Darren looked down as her hands reached for purse. "Keep your money, Sandy," he said firmly. "I''m fine."


    She lifted her gaze and studied him for a long moment. "You''re sure?"


    "I already have a job," he reassured her. "I don''t need any help."


    Sandy half-gasped. "Oh."


    They looked at each other for a very long time, the silence stretching between them. Then, she broke into a smile first and Darren reluctantly followed.


    Soon, they were talking about many other things till Darren saw how late it was and told her he had to leave for the night shift of his job.


    Hearing that, she frowned childishly and sighed. "It really was nice seeing you again."


    Darren nodded. "Me too."


    "Let''s do this more often?" she asked. "Same place? I could really use someone that I could talk to. I don''t know if you do as well."


    Darren looked at her for a while.


    Ding!


    ©³This person genuinely enjoys your company©¿


    He gave her an assuring smile. "Okay then. Till another night."


    As they both stood, she pulled him into another brief hug. Then, he turned to leave but stopped once more, glancing back over his shoulder.


    "Sandy?"


    She looked at him curiously. "Mhm?"


    "Don''t be quick to pull out when things look grim. Numbers can be deceiving."


    Sandy frowned slightly, confused.


    But Darren turned and continued to walk away, hands in his pockets.

 Chapter 21: Bitcoin Explosion

    A television screen lit up with the Business Everyday logo then panned into the media room where a beautiful blond journalist sat at her desk, her expression poised and confident. She adjusted her papers and looked directly into the camera.


    "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Business Everyday. I am your host, Brooklyn Baker here with live news of the everyday intricacies of business and finance," she announced.


    "It has been three weeks since our news broadcast made a controversial Drop Prediction regarding the infamous cryptocurrency, Bitcoin. And indeed, as we at Business Everyday forecasted, Bitcoin has suffered a catastrophic collapse. A plummet. A full-on crash."


    The numbers appeared on the screen behind her, confirming the severity of the decline. Bitcoin had plummeted from $0.08 to $0.0002, even lower than the predicted $0.0003. A complete collapse.


    "The cryptocurrency has registered one of the lowest drop rates of any commodity in modern times with a percentage of 99.75." She whistled and shook her head, clearly pleased by the news. "I don''t know how the owners are going to deal with this one."


    "However," Brooklyn continued, gesturing towards the figures, "this is what we have been saying all this while. This is why cryptocurrency can''t be trusted. It is volatile, unpredictable, and unreliable. Bitcoin is drastically declining and will soon be nothing more than a memory. A failed experiment. A foolish gamble that no smart investor will ever look at again."


    Brooklyn smiled, flipping a page in her notes. "We will go on a break now and return with more business news on Business Everyday."


    The news ticker at the bottom of the screen flashed:


    BITCOIN SUFFERS A MAJOR CRASH! IS THE CRYPTOCURRENCY OFFICIALLY DECLARED DEAD? FINANCIAL ANALYSTS PREDICT FINAL DISSOLUTION.


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Opposite the television, Adam Scotland swirled a glass of red wine in his hand. A woman lounged against him, her manicured fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest as she scrolled through her phone.


    His eyes gazed at the large screen in front of him, reflecting the same news segment. He was pleased. He took a slow sip of the wine before chuckling.


    ''I knew it! I knew it was a smart move to withdraw early!'' he mused in his thoughts. ''Twenty thousand dollars is still bigger than the twelve thousand I originally put in. A good return for a simple investment.''


    ''That''s the difference between me and any other investor. I''m smart. I know when to pull out and when to go all in. Unlike that Duckling man who invests extravagantly. He didn''t even withdraw! Now his $82,000 is only just around $200 now! How pathetic is that!''


    "Ha ha ha ha!" he couldn''t help but laugh out loud.


    The woman beside him smiled, not particularly knowing why he was laughing, but Adam barely paid her any attention.


    He moved his focus to his phone, hurriedly opening the CryptoTracker which was ablaze with activity. The comment section was flooded with reactions to the crash, the majority commenting on a certain investor.


    FuglyDuckling.


    Three weeks ago, this unknown mystery investor had made headlines for dropping a staggering $82,000 on Bitcoin ¡ª just before the crash. And now? The man was certainly ruined.


    Some of the top comments read:


    CryptoKingpin69: LMAOOOO, that idiot really spent 80K+ on Bitcoin just before it DIED.


    Meatbeater2: This is why I only invest in solid commodities. Don''t trust crypto guys! This dude basically set his cash on fire.


    BigBankerBob: One word: IDIOT. Imagine putting $82,000 into a sinking ship. This guy got scammed by himself.


    HandsomeDuckling: Hey, Fugly? How does it feel to be the biggest loser of the month?


    Among the jeers were a few voices defending him.


    EmeraldsFall: Not gonna lie, I kinda feel bad. That''s a brutal loss.


    RichNi99er: My man is going to come out strong. I don''t think it''s a big blow to him. He''s probably a billionaire.


    Danicbl45: ScottishPanda is the real winner here. He made a smart early exit and walked away with a profit. Look and learn, people.


    Adam smirked at that last one.


    ScottishPanda ¡ª his own alias ¡ª was officially listed as the top investor of the week, having made a clean profit from his well-timed withdrawal.


    It was satisfying to see his name at the top. Following that, his followers began to grow once again and more friend requests came.


    Adam had to drop a comment:


    ScottishPanda: I guess some people are just built for investing, and others aren''t.


    He went to FuglyDuckling''s unverified page and saw he had already started losing followers as people were starting to see him as some spoiled billionaire who had no real idea of the business and finance world.


    That pleased Adam greatly. Because it was true ¡ª this guy, whoever he was, clearly wasn''t as smart as he thought.


    But suddenly, the TV commercial that was going on was interrupted and Business Everyday returned to the screen.


    Adam creased his brows. ''That was an unusually short break. Already back with more news?''


    The screen showed Brooklyn Baker holding a finger to her earpiece, and her expression was all of a sudden not the certain and proud one of before, but rigid with surprise. The screen behind her flashed with new data.


    "We interrupt this commercial to announce that we have just received breaking news," she said, her voice forced into professional calm.


    Music played as a flashing display took over the screen with an announcement:


    BITCOIN SKYROCKETS ¨C UNPRECEDENTED SPIKE FROM $0.0002 TO $0.90!


    Adam''s eyes widened. ''What?!'' His head shot forward.


    "Indeed, ladies and gentlemen. Despite Bitcoin''s earlier crash, there has been an unexpected and unprecedented development. Bitcoin has¡ª" She hesitated, as if struggling to believe the words herself. "¡ªskyrocketed from $0.0002 to $0.90. A shocking rise of 450,000%."


    Adam blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing.


    Brooklyn wasn''t done. "This is one of the most astonishing market reversals ever recorded. Experts are calling it the most unpredictable surge in investment history. Even us on Business Everyday are as shocked as you are..."


    She swallowed, squeezing her face in defeat. "We did not see this coming."


    Adam exploded to his feet, the woman on his shoulder shifting as he suddenly straightened. ''No! No! No! What is this! What the hell is happening right now?!''


    His eyes darted around the television as his grip tightened around his glass. Meanwhile his phone vibrated violently against the table.


    The CryptoTracker comments had exploded once again that night.


    Mr.MoneyMaker: HOLY SHIT. BITCOIN JUST WENT TO THE MOON!


    KayKay8T: I CAN''T BELIEVE THIS! IF ONLY WE HADN''T PULLED OUT!


    RyanGust: This can''t be real. Tell me this isn''t real. I made a withdrawal because of the predicted fall!


    BeesWax: We got played. Everyone who sold just got played.


    Adam scrolled through the comments, heart pounding, eyes shaking. Then, to his horror, he saw people commenting under his earlier comment, even sending him messages.


    "ScottishPanda, you bastard! You told us to sell!"


    "Bro, you said Bitcoin was dying! I followed your advice! WTF?!"


    "Business Everyday is giving us this news like they didn''t just make all of us withdraw and miss a big rise! Don''t think I''ve forgotten about you too, ScottishPanda!"


    Adam''s heart couldn''t stop pounding. All he kept thinking was; No, No. This couldn''t be possible. There was no way anyone could have predicted this. It was pure luck. No one could have seen this coming. No one¡ª


    But wait. FuglyDuckling!


    Since that mystery investor hadn''t withdrawn his money yet. Did that mean...


    Buzz. A new notification.


    He looked down at his phone, pulse racing.


    FuglyDuckling has just withdrawn a total sum of $928,125 from an investment of $84,500.


    He is now CryptoTracker''s Investor of the Week.


    Adam''s vision blurred at the number. Nine hundred and twenty-eight thousand dollars. Nearly a million. The biggest recorded withdrawal in Bitcoin history. And it was made by the same guy everyone had been mocking just minutes ago.


    "UNO REVERSSEEEEE!" a comment cried with multiple laughing and crying emojis.


    "Did bro just pull a ''It''s all part of my plan'' on us? Aizen type investor."


    "How did he know?! He was the only major investor who held on!"


    "Bro, please accept my friend request. Teach me your ways."


    "Duckling is a god!"


    "Please check DMs sir."


    "We called him an idiot but this guy is actually HIM."


    Adam was left more crestfallen and in disbelief. His followers were reducing once again in large numbers and FuglyDuckling''s was increasing rapidly.


    His hands curled into angry fists.


    This man! This mystery person! How did they know?! Was he lucky? He was the major investor to keep his investment after the crash! How could he have predicted such a crazy rise!


    He kept on scrolling through more and more comments in an unhealthy manner, seeing people praising and kowtowing to this enigmatic persona. All the attention he was getting, it was infuriating!


    This guy was taking his spot! And he had made the biggest withdrawal in Bitcoin history in just his first investment! Did that mean he was better than him?


    No! No one is a better investor than him!


    Adam gritted his teeth. He refused to let it happen. If this FuglyDuckling thought he could waltz in and steal the title of best investor, he had another thing coming.


    To prove it, he had to find him. He had to challenge him. He had to take him down.

 Chapter 22: First Profit

    "Forty-one... forty..." Darren Steele grunted through counts, his breath growing heavier.


    Sweat dripped from his forehead, landing on the wooden floor beneath him. His arms trembled slightly, muscles burning from the intensity, but he kept going.


    Investors had many things about them. One of which was a routine, and since Darren had decided that push ups were going to be a routine, he was hell bent on maintaining that routine.


    The room was quiet except for the steady, rhythmic sounds of his breathing and the low grunts that escaped his lips with every push up. His body was a machine, pushing against the floor in powerful, controlled motions.


    "Forty-seven... forty-eight..." His teeth clenched. His body was screaming at him to stop, but his mind refused to listen.


    "Forty-nine..." A final push. "Fifty."


    Once he arrived at that number, he let out a heavy grunt, allowing his body to collapse for a brief moment, chest heaving as he caught his breath.


    Then he pushed himself up to his feet and reached for the towel hanging on his desk chair. He dragged it over his damp face and neck before turning toward the mirror.


    The reflection staring back at him was a different man from the one he used to know.


    He was wearing only a pair of brown cotton shorts and so most of his toned body was fully exposed.


    His shoulders were broader now, the muscle definition sharper. His arms that were once lean had taken on a solid, sculpted form, his biceps and forearms carrying more strength than before.


    His chest had firmed up, the outline of his abs distinct under his skin. Even his posture had changed. He was less slouched, more upright, carrying the presence of someone with purpose.


    He hadn''t been doing this for long, but the progress was undeniable.


    Darren exhaled, tossing the towel aside. ''The system didn''t ask me to do this. It also didn''t ask me to clean my room. But being an investor comes with a lot of things, and that includes a sense of responsibility.''


    ''I never really expected it to happen. All my mind had been focused on was getting money. But being responsible has led me to make better choices and act more mature.''


    He looked deeper at his reflection, seeing the tightness of his jaw and smoothness of his face.


    ''At some point, when I didn''t realize it, the responsibility bled into other areas of my life. Keeping a neat environment. Managing my time wisely. Taking care of my body. I had never been like this before ¡ª not at twenty-one, and not even at thirty-one.''


    ''Back then, I rarely exercised, barely bothered with personal grooming beyond the basics. I didn''t care about my appearance, as long as I looked fairly presentable, it was fine.''


    He stood straight and ran his hand through his hair. ''But now... Now, it''s different.''


    ''Maybe it''s because I am technically older than the body I''m inhabiting right now, but I also feel something else. A kind of drive. A sense of discipline I never knew I had.''


    Darren knew it was the system''s influence. It had reshaped him, molded him into someone he barely recognized, but in the best possible way.


    ''The system did say I have to keep an image. This is part of it. I''d prefer if that image was genuine, not just a show.''


    He let out a deep breath. ''I never expected that my life would be completely in the hands of an omnipotent and omniscient powerful AI, but what can I say?''


    It was pointless to care, because the truth was...


    He was grateful.


    The Investor System had turned him into a completely different man. A driven man. And a...


    Buzz!


    His phone vibrated against the desk.


    ...A rich man.


    Darren grabbed it, unlocking the screen. The notification bar was flooded with messages and alerts. Most of them were still coming from CryptoTracker, all buzzing about the massive Bitcoin withdrawal that had shaken the market that morning.


    He let out a sigh. Guess they''re still on a high about that.


    Not surprising. A withdrawal that large wasn''t something people saw every day. ''Really lucky no one knows it''s me,'' he thought. ''If they did?''


    He scoffed, shaking his head. ''There''d be a swarm of press at my door, people flooding my inbox with messages. And calls too.''


    His lips curled slightly. ''I hate texts and calls.''


    Setting the phone down, he turned his attention elsewhere.


    "System," he muttered, "open the Bitcoin Investment Window."


    The translucent purple panel materialized before him, filled with glowing white text.


    ------------------------------------------


    ©³Bitcoin Investment Window©¿


    ©³Price Presently: $0.9/BTC©¿


    ©³Price in Future: $50,000/BTC©¿


    ©³Rises:


    ¡ª January 2011 - Major Rise - $6/BTC


    ¡ª April 2011 - Minor Rise - $9/BTC


    ¡ª June 2011 - Major Rise - $31/BTC©¿


    (Tap to see further rises for more than one year)


    ©³Crashes:


    ¡ª March 2011 - Minor Crash - $4.3/BTC


    ¡ª August 2011 - Major Crash - $2/BTC©¿


    (Tap to see further crashes for more than one year)


    ©³Your Investment©¿


    ©³Invested: $82,500©¿


    ©³Profit: $928,125©¿


    -----------------------------------------


    Darren exhaled slowly, staring at the numbers.


    ''Almost a million dollars,'' he thought.


    A part of this was somehow difficult to believe, and as the sheer weight of it settled on him, it pressed against his chest.


    He was completely ecstatic about it. But he didn''t jump or yell or laugh wildly and happily as much as he wanted to. Instead, he simply walked over to the desk, resting his hands on the surface as he lowered his head.


    ''This is real.''


    ''I can''t believe I have that much money. This... this actually is real. I mean I knew it was real, but seeing this money in my bank account.''


    He picked up his phone again and checked his personal wallet account, seeing the money there.


    ''It''s a completely enthralling feeling. I''m a millionaire.''


    He then turned around, standing straight and placing a thoughtful finger on his chin. ''Well not yet.''


    ''But Holloway should be sending the money today for the two cures I gave him two weeks ago.''


    ''Regardless of Doctor Gerald''s persuasion, I finally put mom in Holloway''s hospital two weeks ago, and I gave him the cures then. Today is the fixed day for the payment.''


    Darren had chosen today because it was the same day of the Bitcoin rise. Meaning, once Dr Holloway sends the money...


    Ding!


    A notification appeared on the system interface.


    [You have received a money transfer of $3,000,000 from Dr. Leonard Holloway.]


    Ding!


    [You have received a money transfer of $5,700,000 from Dr. Leonard Holloway.]


    Darren smiled.


    ... He could finally start spending.

 Chapter 23: Living Situation

    As exciting as the whole prospect of spending was, Darren had the system now, and because of that, he''d been toned to mind extravagance.


    At least in the early stages of his wealth.


    For now, he needed only to spend on things that were necessary.


    He sat at his kitchen table, hands steepled, staring at the wooden surface in front of him. The system interface was floating in front of him, screen still glowing with the latest bank alerts.


    Including the profit from Bitcoin, it was a total of 9.6 million dollars.


    So what was the next move?


    The first thing he did was to set aside $280,000 for the repayment of his loan. Darren had never forgotten how important that was. Even if he did, the system was always there to remind him;


    ©³Please, avoid debts©¿or ©³System Reminder: You are now three and a half weeks into debt with the Red Fang Association. Only a few days left.©¿


    The Red Fang hadn''t given him an account or a wallet to send the money to, since they didn''t want their business to be tracked by the government. So his repayment would have to be in person, just as like the borrowing had been.


    "System, mark the date, August 29th. That''s when I''d be repaying the Red Fang. Exactly one month from when I borrowed."


    ©³August 29th has been marked. Your punctuality and preparedness has been noted.©¿


    ©³You''ve earned a Character Bonus©¿


    Darren raised a brow, half surprised by the notification. "Thanks," he mumbled. ''Now... back to this. What should be my first expenditure?''


    His gaze lifted, sweeping across the cramped kitchen. The paint on the walls had begun to fade, peeling at the corners where years of steam from cooking had settled. The cabinets were slightly chipped, the handles loose. The table he sat at wobbled faintly if he applied too much pressure.


    "Ah shit." He cursed. "I can''t believe I''m going to do it."


    He loved this house. He did. As much as anyone would love the building that sheltered all of their childhood memories ¡ª both good and bad.


    But to be fair, even in his former timeline, he had already left this place behind. He''d found a cheap apartment to stay in and lived there for years before he and Lily began to get serious and rented a penthouse.


    The deal was, after his mother fell ill and died, his uncle had deceived them all and sold the house, despite it being under his mother''s name.


    He had given Darren a meager share of it, and because he was actually 21 around that time, Darren didn''t know how to fight it. It was the money he ended up using to rent the apartment.


    Darn... those were hard times.


    Darren bent his head and squeezed his eyes, trying to chase away those memories. It won''t happen again this time, he told himself.


    Not when I have the system. Not when I know everything I know.


    He leaned back, exhaling sharply. He would protect this house until his mother was healed and could decide for herself what she wanted to do with it. That choice was hers alone.


    But keeping it didn''t mean living in it.


    He looked around again, taking in the small, suffocating walls, the dull lighting, the couch in the living room that had springs poking through the fabric. Even though he had kept the place clean, it felt worn out, tainted by the past.


    He didn''t want to bring his mother back to the same place where she had nearly died.


    No. She deserved better.


    She was his mother after all. The only woman truly entitled to enjoy the money he made.


    Darren stood up, sunk his hand into his pockets and let out a decisive sigh. ''It''s time I upgraded my living situation.''


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Darren stepped out of a neat yellow taxi, adjusting the cuff of his simple black shirt. He hadn''t put much thought into his entire outfit, since he hadn''t yet revealed himself as an investor, there was no need to dress extravagantly in order to maintain status.


    So he had on a dark sleeved button-up shirt, navy-blue jean trousers, with clean black shoes.


    He had arrived at Wellington Realty, one of the top luxury real estate firms in the city.


    Ding!


    -----------------------------------------------


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Wellington Realty is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Net Worth: $1.3 billion©¿


    ©³Primary Income: High-end real estate sales, luxury property management, commercial leasing, real estate investment funds©¿


    ©³Owner: Sterling Wellington©¿


    ©³Known for: Exclusive high-value properties, elite clientele, discreet high-profile transactions, exceptional customer service©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡î©¿


    ©³Tactics: Maintains prestige through selective client screening, negotiates aggressively to maximize profit, fosters relationships with wealthy investors and developers, prioritizes high commissions over quick sales©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: Valuable for securing premium real estate. Be mindful of their profit-driven approach¡ªnegotiation and leverage will be key.©¿


    -----------------------------------------------


    After he''d taken note of that, Darren walked into the building.


    The building itself exuded wealth. It looked fairly modern for its time, made of glass and polished marble floors, high ceilings, and sleek furniture arranged with meticulous precision. The air smelled faintly of fresh coffee and expensive cologne.


    Inside, the reception area buzzed with activity.


    Well-dressed agents sat behind glass desks, speaking into phones or flipping through thick property portfolios. A few prospective buyers lounged in plush leather seats, sipping complimentary drinks while waiting for their appointments.


    The moment Darren walked in, he immediately drew curious glances. This was expected, because well, Darren was young. Far younger than the usual clientele that walked through these doors.


    Some agents gave polite smiles before quickly looking away, assuming he was lost or simply accompanying someone else.


    Ignoring them, he headed straight to the front desk, still feeling the skepticism in the air.


    It was subtle at first. The receptionist gave him a brisk once-over, and then returned to her computer. The other agent ¡ª a sharply dressed middle-aged man ¡ª raised a brow but said nothing, he also assumed the boy was with someone else.


    Ignoring it, Darren strode toward the desk of a woman in her late thirties, her dark blonde hair neatly pinned in a bun.


    She was currently speaking with a broad-shouldered man, middle-aged in an expensive yet slightly outdated suit. The man held an air of arrogance, exuding the confidence of someone used to getting what they wanted.


    From what Darren could see, he was trying to purchase a house, and he seemed very adamant on a particular one.


    Darren stretched his neck slightly to peek at the building he wanted to buy. His eyes found the papers in front of them. The price tag was clear.


    $1,000,000.

 Chapter 24: Escrow

    ''That''s pricey,'' he thought. His eyes moved to the house in question, then he instantly understood why. It was a modern, high-end property. Spacious. Beautiful. Perfect.


    But this man didn''t seem willing to go for the one million dollar price. First he said 600 thousand, then 700, then...


    "I''ll give you eight hundred thousand," he said smoothly, leaning on the desk. "Let''s not kid ourselves. This market is competitive, but not that competitive. No one''s offering a million cash in a single go."


    Darren''s lips curled.


    The agent, who seemed tired from trying to explain to the man that the price for such a property was fixed, took a deep sigh. "Please sir, I can''t go any lower than the fixed price. This is my job."


    The man grunted, shushing her with a wave of his hand. "Look, woman. This is how this is going to go. I¡ª"


    "I''ll take it for the full price."


    Silence.


    The man and the agent furrowed their brows, wondering if they''d misheard.


    Who said that?


    The agent looked behind the suited man, who then turned, frowning, before his gaze fell on Darren''s young face.


    Then, he burst out laughing.


    It was a very condescending laugh, rumbling from his chest.


    "Kid, this isn''t a sneaker shop. We''re talking real estate. Do you even know what escrow means?"


    Darren didn''t flinch. "Do you?"


    The man''s smirk twitched slightly. "Listen, I don''t know what kind of game you think you''re playing, but this isn''t a playground for wannabe millionaires. Now, disappear and let me go on with my business."


    Darren stared straight at the posh looking man, but said nothing more to him. He then turned to the female agent. "Will you sell me the property? One million dollars?"


    The woman tried to part her lips to speak, moving her gaze between the man and Darren. "It''s just..."


    Darren slipped his hands deeper in his pockets. "An escrow is a contractual arrangement where money or assets are held in trust by an independent agent by the agreement of the parties, which can only be released to the relevant party once certain contractual conditions have been fulfilled."


    His eyes then coldly moved to the startled man. "But I don''t see what an escrow has to do with this property before us. You see, a house like this can''t be discounted. It represents a value. Once someone sells it on a discount, that suggests that there has been a fault that has affected the agreed value."


    "From a financial standpoint, high-value real estate appreciates faster than lower-tier properties," Darren continued. "The location alone ensures a steady climb in valuation. Anyone who knows the market understands that a million-dollar home today could be worth 30% more in just a few years. You''re simply haggling over a fraction of its future worth."


    His eyes flicked to the agent who appeared deeply impressed, before he returned to the man.


    "Lifestyle factor, comfort. The architecture, the amenities, the location¡ª this house was designed for efficiency and comfort. Just one glance at it and you can see the reasons for its fixed price. Don''t you agree?"


    He glanced at the agent who instantly turned pink. "Yes... I do."


    "So. Will you sell it to me?"


    She hesitated. As much as she wanted to say yes, she knew how risky it was. As an agent, she was used to people claiming they wanted to buy houses, but after seeing the place, they never ended up buying.


    It became clear they had no intention of buying in the first place and just wanted to experience how it felt to purchase a property. But this guy, even though he appeared very young, seemed to know what he was doing.


    On top of that, she had only made one sale this month compared to her colleagues who''d made three or more. She badly needed another sale or else she wouldn''t get that raise she was after.


    "Half now, half after inspection," Darren interrupted her thoughts, pulling out his phone. He tapped the buttons. "I''ll wire five hundred thousand to the company''s account right now."


    "What?!" the man exclaimed, seemingly infuriated. "That''s not going to happen. Clearly¡ª" he chuckled nervously. "¡ªclearly he''s joking."


    The woman also was confused and still hesitant, clearly unsure whether to entertain this. But then¡ª


    Ding!


    The computer by her desk lit up. Her breath caught as she stared at the notification.


    ''Transaction Received: $500,000 ¨C From Mr. Duckling''


    She whipped her gaze back up to Darren, her entire demeanor shifting. "Forgive my hesitation, sir! Please, let me get the necessary paperwork ready!"


    Then she disappeared into a door, seemingly excited.


    The suited man stiffened.


    His eyes darkened as he turned to Darren, suspicion leaking into his voice. ''He just sent her half a million dollars like that?''


    Who the hell are you?"


    Darren pocketed his phone, his expression as calm as ever. "Who I am doesn''t matter to you."


    His gaze flicked over the man dismissively. "I just know how to appreciate valuable assets when I see them. It''s business. When you see something invaluable, you don''t hesitate to make it yours. Opportunities don''t usually come twice."


    The man''s nostrils flared. "So you''re educating me now? Do you know who I am? Do you know who you''re crossing?"


    Darren''s eyes remained bland. He slipped his hands into his pocket, dropping his voice to a lazy, confident drawl.


    "I know exactly who you are," he said. "You''re a man who just lost his house to a kid."


    Then he turned on his heel and headed towards the door, leaving the man dumbfounded and crestfallen.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve earned a Character Bonus©¿


    Darren barely acknowledged it, his focus shifting to the real estate agent who was waving at him, gesturing that she''d gathered the files.


    He moved to approach, but suddenly collided with someone.


    "Ugh!"


    "Ngh¡ª ouch!"


    Papers scattered.


    Darren didn''t even have the time to react before a sharp voice snapped at him.


    "Are you blind?! Why don''t you watch where you''re going!"


    The woman who had bumped into him was already moving to pick up her scattered papers, grumbling under her breath. "Ngh! Why are you just standing there? Help me you lu¡ª"


    Her eyes lifted and locked onto his face.


    She froze.


    Her heart dropped, her lips parted slightly as shock replaced irritation.


    "Darren...?"


    Darren''s jaw tightened.


    Lily.

 Chapter 25: Cold Severance

    Darren''s gaze calmly flickered over Lily''s appearance as he took in the subtle details of her attire.


    She was wearing a fitted navy-blue blazer over a crisp white blouse. Like most of her outfits, this one was tailored to perfection, tight around her waist and penciled slightly above her untainted knees.


    Taking a note of how officially dressed she was, Darren came to a conclusion. ''It seems she''s here on official business.''


    She wasn''t overly dressed . Her accessories were a modest silver wristwatch and a simple pair of pearl earrings, lacking the extravagance she would usually take if she was on a more casual outing.


    Then, his eyes shifted to the papers clutched tightly in her hands.


    A quick glance revealed a contract header¡ªSmithers Group & Wellington Realty. His brow arched slightly. He saw that she was here as a representative for her dad''s company to complete a deal with the CEO of this real estate company.


    She was here as a representative for her father''s company. His gaze sharpened as he skimmed the fine print. From the looks of it, it seemed to be an advertising deal.


    So, Lily had been demoted to advertising?


    By her own father?


    The realization was rough, amusing but also pitiful. In his past life, Lily had even gained an executive role, and was being groomed as her father''s successor.


    He imagined the reason for that was because she had done what Gareth wanted; keeping him in check so that they could continue to use him to make more financial breakthroughs.


    But now he had ended that, here she was, left to negotiate marketing contracts. Certainly this was Gareth''s way of punishing Lily. Or was it a test?


    Darren wasn''t sure. But whatever it was, it was clear that her standing had slipped.


    Lily''s voice broke through the silence, calling his name once again.


    "Darren?"


    Her tone carried disbelief, but also more raw emotions like hurt, frustration and confusion. She took a hesitant step forward, searching his face as if trying to confirm he was real.


    Darren was almost unrecognizable. Not just his face, but his clothes were ironed, there was more steel in his posture, and... he finally learnt how to comb his hair.


    "What are you doing here?" she asked, brows furrowed. Then, more urgently, "Why haven''t you been answering my calls? Responding to my texts? Why have you..." Her voice trailed off.


    "Darren. I even came to see you once¡ª I knocked on your door, Darren. And don''t tell me you weren''t home because I knew you were."


    Her voice wavered slightly, and she swallowed before continuing.


    "But you just ignored me. You''ve been so... cold. So awful. Why? What did I do to deserve this?"


    Darren''s jaw tightened once more, keeping his expression as bland as he could. "Didn''t your father tell you?"


    Lily blinked. "Tell me what?"


    His lips curled distastefully, as though he was trying his best to avoid this conversation.


    "Why I resigned from the company? He didn''t tell you it was because I know. About everything."


    She stiffened, confusion clouding her face.


    Darren''s voice remained as steady as ever. "After he had seen my GPA, my test results, my CPA, your father knew he''d hit the jackpot with me. A new young graduate that he could use and siphon from. All he needed was how to keep me so I wouldn''t leave."


    "When he learnt I was asking you out, it was the best opportunity and so, he finally agreed to let you date me. That way, you could keep me in check. Keep me happy. Keep me from leaving his company."


    He let the words settle, then his gaze blared down at her. "You were using me. Manipulating me."


    Lily went utterly still.


    Her fingers clenched around the papers, her breath shallow. How?


    How... how could he possibly know that?


    That conversation had taken place years ago, just her and her father, behind closed doors. No one else had been there, and she had never breathed a word of it to anyone.


    This had to be a bluff.


    There was no way he could have found out. He had to be speculating and somehow managed to guess it right.


    Lily forced herself to breathe. Then, she looked him straight in the eye and lied.


    "That''s not true," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "Darren, of course my father is very mindful of our relationship, but nothing like that ever happened. We''ve been friends for so long, I would never do that. Not to you."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being dishonest to you.©¿


    Darren didn''t even react to the system''s notification. He didn''t need it.


    His eyes remained locked on hers, cold and piercing. "You''re lying."


    Lily flinched.


    "Your father didn''t even bother to deny it," Darren continued, voice like ice. "He assumed you told me yourself." He leaned in just slightly, his gaze unrelenting. "And yet, somehow, you''re the only one still trying to pretend."


    A flicker of panic flashed in her eyes.


    She had made a mistake. She just realized it now. Why did she have to lie? Couldn''t she see that there was something extremely different in this Darren? Didn''t she already know that?


    Didn''t she know that he wouldn''t fall for her words like he usually did.


    Her father had given her one instruction: Fix this. Not to make it worse.


    But now she had done exactly that.


    "No. No, Darren, I made a mistake. Please, let me explain¡ª"


    "No."


    His voice cut through her words like a blade.


    "I''ve been a fool all this time, thinking you loved me," he said, shaking his head. Then, inwardly, he added, ''And I was even a fool for a longer time. Ten years in fact.''


    Then he exhaled sharply, straightening. "It won''t happen anymore."


    "Darren¡ª"


    "It''s over, Lily."


    The finality in his tone stole the breath from her lungs.


    He glanced at her, eyes cold. "Officially. You and I are done."


    She stared at him, unable to move, unable to process. ''Darren? Breaking up with me?''


    She''d always imagined that if anyone was to break up with anyone, it would be her breaking up with him. And everyone thought so too. Mainly because they all believed she was way out of his league.


    And yet, he was the one breaking up with her. How much had he changed?


    The sharp sound of heels against the polished flooring snapped her out of her thoughts as the real estate agent returned, a radiant smile on her face.


    "The documents are ready, sir," she said, stepping beside him. "Shall we head to the property now for the inspection?"


    Lily''s head snapped toward the woman, eyes narrowing. Property?


    She looked back at Darren, whose expression remained unreadable. "What are you doing here, Darren?"


    He sighed.


    Then, he met her gaze one final time.


    "I just don''t want to see you again, Lily."


    And with that, he continued forward, heading to the door. The real estate agent followed beside him, glancing back only once before they both disappeared into the hallway.


    Lily stood frozen in place, watching his retreating figure. Her fingers trembled slightly, her heart hammering in her chest.


    Then, under her breath, barely above a whisper, she murmured:


    "You''re wrong, Darren."


    Her hands clenched at her sides.


    "You''re wrong... because I do love you."

 Chapter 26: Greenbaby

    Darren stepped out of the sleek, glass-paneled entrance of Wellington Realty, the estate agent matching his pace beside him. The late afternoon sun cast golden hues over the city, filtering through the high-rises and reflecting off passing cars.


    He glanced at her briefly before speaking. "I didn''t bring a personal vehicle with me," he said, adjusting the cuff of his shirt. "Do you guys offer¡ª"


    Before he could finish, a deep purr of an engine caught his attention.


    A black Cadillac Escalade glided into view.


    Darren was awed at the sight of it, remembering that Cadillacs were really respected cars during this year.


    It was an imposing vehicle. Big, bold, and luxurious, with a wide chrome grille that drew all attention near and far. The tinted windows gave it an air of exclusivity, while the 22-inch alloy wheels rolled to a smooth stop against the curb. The LED headlights flickered briefly before shutting off, leaving the wealthy aura of the car''s presence to simmer for a while.


    Darren became gluttonous. ''Maybe I should start thinking of a car.''


    The estate agent looked at him and smiled. "Indeed we do offer exclusive transport services," She gestured to the car as the driver stepped out and opened the door. "This vehicle is provided by the company. You''ll be taken straight to the property in complete comfort."


    Darren nodded in approval before stepping inside.


    The interior smelled of fine leather and polished wood, the cabin spacious and designed for both relaxation and authority.


    The seats, stitched with premium black leather, molded to his frame as he settled in. Across from him, the agent took her seat, crossing her legs neatly, her expression poised and subtly observant.


    The driver, an older man dressed in a clean black uniform, turned in his seat. "Good afternoon, sir. I''ll be taking you to the most popular wealthy avenue in Los Alverez. Greenbaby."


    Darren inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Let''s go."


    The car pulled away, and it drove through the roads, the beautiful city blurred past the tinted windows.


    Darren exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. Throughout the drive, he tried not to think about her.


    Lily.


    But no matter how much he tried to block it out, the memories came crashing in.


    More than ten years together.


    They had been through a lot of his stuff. Not just as lovers, but even as friends. And yet, all of it was meaningless now.


    All of that was now over because of the memory of her lying on Tyler Mooney''s laps.


    Ugh, he squeezed his eyes shut. But no matter how he tried to will the memory away, it remained. It burned and it hurt. Too damn much.


    He could never allow himself to forgive her.


    Never.


    Thankfully, the Cadillac''s smooth ride and the soft hum of the engine helped dull his thoughts as the scenery outside began to shift.


    Soon, the towering buildings gave way to a quieter, more affluent part of the city.


    The street ahead stretched wide and clean, paved with smooth asphalt and lined with tall oak trees, having lush green canopies that swayed gently in the breeze.


    This affluent avenue was called Greenbaby. Not Greenbaby Avenue, or Greenbaby Estate, just Greenbaby.


    Unlike the bustling downtown, here, everything was serene, elegant, and exclusive. The sidewalks were lined with immaculately maintained gardens, filled with rose bushes, trimmed hedges, and ornate street lamps.


    Further down, the rolling hills provided a scenic backdrop, adding to the neighborhood''s seclusion. The few houses that dotted the area were grand estates, each unique in design, spaced far apart, emphasizing privacy and luxury.


    The estate agent took the opportunity to speak.


    "Greenbaby is one of the most sought-after locations in the city," she said, her voice finally finding the confidence of someone who knew how to sell. "I must say that you have a fine eye, sir. Quickly choosing this property. In a few years time, to get a property here will be more expensive."


    She continued. "Every property here is custom-built, and the neighborhood itself is home to some of the most influential figures ¡ª CEOs, entrepreneurs, even a few celebrities."


    She gestured outside as they passed an elegant Victorian-style mansion, its iron gates adorned with ivy. "You might know the famous Ava Monroe. She lives in that beautiful mansion, though she does enjoy her privacy."


    "Like hers, every estate here is designed for discretion and security, with high-end surveillance and gated access. Not to mention, the investment potential is enormous. Like I mentioned and like you know, this area''s property values are set to rise in the next five years."


    Darren listened attentively and soon, the car slowed.


    The driver pulled into a private driveway, lined with neatly arranged cobblestones leading up to a magnificent house.


    The door was opened for him and Darren stepped out, his gaze lifting as he took in the estate before him.


    The mansion stood tall and proud, its white stucco exterior accented by sleek black trims and massive floor-to-ceiling windows. A modern masterpiece, yet with subtle European influences.


    The doorways were arched, balconies were made of wrought-iron, and there was a grand double-door entrance. The roof was designed with dark slate tiles, contrasting beautifully against the pristine white walls.


    Landscaped gardens surrounded the property, complete with a stone fountain, manicured hedges, and a private pathway leading to a small grove of trees in the back.


    The estate agent smiled as she walked beside him. "Seeing it in person is different from looking at pictures, isn''t it?"


    Darren gave a short nod. "It is."


    She led him up the steps, unlocking the grand doors, and gestured for him to enter.


    Inside, the foyer was breathtaking. There was a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, casting shimmering light across the tiled floors. A curved staircase with decorated railings led to the second floor, and the open-concept design gave the house a feeling of endless space.


    "Let me show you around," the agent said, stepping ahead.


    As they walked, Darren inspected every corner: the living area, with its spectacularly designed ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard pool.


    The kitchen with the Italian marble countertops, custom oak cabinetry, and state-of-the-art appliances. The master suite, with a private balcony, walk-in closet, and an en-suite bathroom that looked more like a spa.


    However, through it all, Darren couldn''t ignore something.


    The way the estate agent spoke as she explained things. The lingering glances here and there. A slight brush of her fingers when she pointed at something. A playful smile as she caught his eye.


    It was obvious.


    She was flirting with him.


    So far she had tried to keep it professional, but the small hesitations, the subtle nervousness. It was clear. She was interested.


    Whatever it was she was interested in, he didn''t know, but Darren still remained indifferent.


    He wasn''t blind. She was beautiful, yes ¡ª long dark hair, sharp blue eyes, a curvy yet elegant figure. But right now, he had no interest. Not in this.


    Instead, his mind wandered back to something else.


    The price.


    He noted how cheap things were compared to 10 years in the future. This house would be around an extra million in his former timeline. At most 3 million.


    That was one of the biggest advantages of his regression.


    Everything was cheaper.


    By the time the tour was over, the agent turned to him, a bright smile on her face. "So," she said expectantly. "What do you think?"

 Chapter 27: Calming the Nerves (1)

    Arms folded, Darren withdrew his gaze from the room and glanced at her. "I have five hundred thousand dollars left to send, right?"


    The agent, standing just a step too close, nodded with a pleased smile. "Yes, that''s correct."


    She hesitated for a moment, then stepped even closer with a seductive move of her legs and a coy tilt of her head, "But... I wouldn''t mind if you left an agent performance gratuity."


    Darren''s gaze remained expressionless as he looked at her, having no reaction to what she just said.


    He knew exactly what a performance gratuity meant. It was basically a tip for blue collared workers such as her. Leaving one usually meant that the worker had done their job to the extreme satisfaction of the client.


    The agent leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to sound suggestive. "I promise I''ll make it worth your time."


    Darren raised an eyebrow, not budging to her advances.


    She sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear as she looked up at him.


    "Look," she said, her tone shifting into something a little more earnest. "I really need this sale. And if you give me a good enough performance gratuity, it boosts my sales score and I could finally get a raise."


    She looked up at her, her eyebrows slanting to a pleading expression. "It''s really tough for us real estate agents."


    Darren stared at her for a long moment, debating. His first instinct was to refuse. He didn''t owe her anything. But then, another thought crept in.


    Why refuse?


    He was single now. He was a free man.


    And, if he was being honest, it had been a while since he had been with a woman. Any woman at all.


    Slowly, he exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "...If I''m giving you a performance gratuity, it''ll be because you performed your job to the best standard."


    The agent''s lips curled into a frown.


    Then Darren''s eyes met hers. He then advanced, causing her to move backwards in surprise.


    "If I have sex with you..." his lips curved to a brief smirk. "... it''s because I want to have sex with you."


    Heart pounding as she gazed into his blue eyes, the real estate agent smiled.


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    The estate agent had decided to give Darren a premium test of the king-size bed in his bedroom.


    They had kissed through the entire flight up the stairs. Multiple times, she had almost slipped, drowning in the affectionate and strong effect of Darren''s lips kissing hers.


    For a man as young as him. He was an amazing kisser.


    He then picked her up and took her into the bedroom, showing her his strength.


    The agent felt vulnerable, but being older than him, she couldn''t just allow him to manhandle her as he pleased. It made her vulnerable and shy, drawing redness on her cheeks.


    So, she had to take control.


    Once they got inside and he lowered her down to her feet, lips still locked together, tongues caressing, fingers tracing, Victoria wasted no time.


    She pushed him gently onto the bed, straddling him. "You''re a bit tense, sir," she whispered, her hands running through his hair. "You plan to unleash all your frustration on me, don''t you?"


    Darren looked up at her with his hair disheveled, covering his eyes, his breath heavy and excited.


    "Let''s relax you a bit," she whispered with a seductive smile.


    Slowly, she took off her blazer and then her shirt. Then her skirt fell off and allowed herself to be revealed to him in all her beauty.


    God damn. Darren''s breathing got harder.


    She was wearing a black butterfly themed lingerie. The bra cups were wings and the thong was a full butterfly spreading its wings around her tight, slim waist.


    She spun around for him, showing him that the rest of it was a g-string, perfectly assenting the curve of her hips and ass.


    Darren gulped. He tried to play his cool, but he hadn''t been offered such a feast as this in a long time.


    And boy was he hungry.


    The agent lowered herself to him. First, she started with his lips, her mouth pressing against his once more, her tongue exploring.


    Darren decided to be patient. He was the one with the power here. He deserved to be served.


    She broke away, her lips trailing down his neck, nibbling and licking. "Your cologne," she murmured. "Oh... you taste so good."


    Darren breathed deeply.


    She continued her descent, unbuttoning his shirt as she went. She took his nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue against it. Darren gasped, his hips arching off the bed.


    Seeing his reaction, she chuckled, moving lower, unbuttoning his pants.


    She looked up at him, her eyes full of desire.


    "Oh wow. You''re a big boy, aren''t you?" she said, stroking him through his boxers. Darren groaned, his cock already hard and ready.


    "You sound so hot when you groan."


    She slipped her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his length. Darren closed his eyes, feeling her warm, soft palm grasp his hardening cock.


    Then she began to stroke him. Slowly. Softly. Using her thumb to circle the head occasionally.


    Darren''s breath hitched, his eyes still closed in pleasure. "Wow," he groaned.


    She smiled, moving her hand faster. "I can see that you like that. I take diligence in everything I do. Work or pleasure. I always make sure to satisfy the other person."


    Keeping her eyes locked with his, she leaned down, using her tongue to lick the tip of his cock. Darren bucked his hips, another low moan escaping his lips.


    ''Is she that good or has it just been that long since I had sex?''


    Before he knew it, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft.


    Darren wanted to jerk but he held his hips down. Her mouth was like an inverted hose, she sucked him deeply, her head bobbing up and down.


    His hands fisted in her hair, and once the motion became intense, he began thrusting his hips gently.


    Feeling the passion building up his balls, he pulled her head away, her greedy lips making a popping sound as his cock left her mouth.


    She looked up at him, a wicked smile on her face as she cleaned her lips with the back of her hand. "Almost got carried away there. Good thing you did that."


    Darren looked at her with a cold gaze of hunger, his heart panting. ''This girl.''


    "Get on the bed," he said.


    "Mhm?" she toyed with him.


    Darren instantly grabbed her by the shoulders, got on his feet, turned around and dropped her on the bed.

 Chapter 28: Calming the Nerves (2)

    When he looked down at her, she had wide eyes of shock and nervousness. She looked away, cheeks reddening.


    "Don''t look at me like that," she said.


    Darren suddenly felt something. Her wetness. His cock was directly on top of the fabric of her thong and he could feel just how wet she was.


    Her juices soaking through the panties. He could even feel the heat radiating from her.


    His gaze lifted to her once again and she hid her face nervously once more.


    ''One moment she''s extremely forward and the next she''s shy. I don''t know why I find it so attractive, I never thought that bipolar women were my thing.''


    Irrespective of her timidness, he lowered his face and kissed her again. Then, his fingers moved her butterfly panties away and thrusted into her pussy.


    The agent moaned into his mouth, moving her hips against his hand.


    Darren slipped another finger inside her, then another. He finger-fucked her slowly, his thumb still rubbing her clit. Victoria''s breath came in short gasps, her body tensing. "Oh, God, sir," she panted. "Don''t stop."


    Darren breathed against her mouth, stroking into her harder and harder.


    When her legs began to shake uncontrollably, he pulled his fingers out, and watched her squirm and quiver like a fish out of water.


    Darren looked at his wet hands, surprised. ''When did I get so good at that?''


    Suddenly, he felt something warm and familiar wrap around his cock. Darren looked down, seeing her palm holding his cock hungrily. He traced it to her face, and she had a pleading expression.


    Her eyes were all wet and imploring.


    She wanted him to fuck her.


    Darren let her guide it to her entrance, then he pushed inside her and the both of them ¡ª


    "NGH!"


    "AAAOOOEEW!!"


    ¡ª moaned at the instant his shaft plunged inside her.


    Darren was careful and slow at first, letting her adjust to his size.


    She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. After gazing at him for a while, she leaned in and kissed him deeply, her tongue exploring his mouth.


    Like it fueled him, Darren started to move faster, his hips slamming against hers.


    "Yes, sir. Yes, please, sir," she cried out. "Faster. Harder."


    Darren obliged, his cock pounding into her. The bed creaked with each thrust, their bodies slapping together. The agent''s nails dug into his back, her breath heavy, her eyes losing its strength, her cheeks red.


    "Oh, God, sir. You feel... You feel..." she panted. "You feel so good. So big."


    Compliments like that were like an energy source and Darren fucked her harder and harder the more she spoke.


    She was so tight, so wet. It was easy and soft, and smooshy as he entered in and out of her.


    They changed positions soon after. Darren put the agent on top, and then she rode him reverse cowgirl, her hands on his thighs for support.


    She was really good at that. He dragged her bra off her breasts just so he could see it bounce as she bounced. She moved her hips in slow circles, her pussy gripping his cock tightly.


    Darren reached around, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed it in time with her movements and at the same time, his cock was hitting her g-spot with each thrust.


    They changed positions after positions and in all of them, the agent''s moans filled the room, her body trembling.


    "Deeper, sir," she begged. "Deeper."


    Darren obliged, his cock sliding deeper into her. She cried out, her body convulsing. "You feel so good inside me, sir. Why do you feel so good?" she panted. "Oh. Ngh! Uhhh! You''re gonna make me come."


    Darren felt her pussy clamp down on his cock, her juices flowing over him. He groaned, his own orgasm hitting him hard.


    Quickly, he pulled his cock out of her depths and held it over her stomach. He came all over her belly, his body shaking with the intensity as he released.


    Darren collapsed on the bed while the agent laid there, squeezing herself to a ball as the last few spasms of orgasms reverberated through her.


    Their breathing was heavy and labored, but all the same pleasant.


    For a few seconds, they remained in that way; silent, breathing heavily. Darren looked up at the ceiling, wondering if sex had always been this great or did this real estate agent have the greatest vagina ever created.


    This... This had totally been worth it.


    He extended both arms on the bed in a comfortable manner, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.


    Sex could be so liberating. An amazing way to clear the mind and get rid of stress.


    His muscles felt loose, his mind momentarily at rest. A rare sense of relief rushed through him, leaving him feeling replenished, as if something had been reset within him.


    Beside him, the agent was breathing just as heavily, her body half-turned toward him, eyes laced with satisfaction.


    She was watching him with affectionate eyes as he stared at the ceiling. When he turned his head slightly, glancing at her, she looked away, adjusting her hair.


    "Hey," he returned to his gaze to the ceiling as he spoke. "What''s your name?" he asked.


    Her eyes widened and she turned around to look at him once more. "Uhm.. it''s Victoria."


    Darren gave a small nod, exhaling. "Alright, Victoria." He sat forward, pulling his phone from his trousers that had been on the floor. "Get the contract. Let me sign."


    Victoria''s brows lifted in brief surprise at his sudden shift in demeanor, but she quickly smoothed it over with a cool smile. "Straight to business, huh?"


    Darren didn''t answer, his fingers already tapping on his phone buttons. A second later, he hit send.


    Transaction Completed.


    Victoria took out her office phone and waited for the transaction to arrive. Once it did, she narrowed her eyes on the notification.


    "Five hundred thousand..." Then her breath hitched as she noticed the additional amount. "Wait. You added¡ª"


    "A five-thousand-dollar gratuity should be enough, I assume?"

 Chapter 29: Documentation Complete

    Victoria''s eyes widened. Her lips parted to speak, but remained agape in disbelief. $5,000 was 0.5% of the total pay of a million dollars.


    It didn''t sound like much, but the usual and advised amount for a performance gratuity was 0.1%. 0.5 was a significant leap. More than what most agents could even dream of getting in extra pay.


    "Yes, it would." She turned to him, her expression softening into something more than just appreciation. "Thank you... really."


    "It''s nothing at all. I guess I''m feeling pretty generous today," he said while stretching


    She stared at him then, long and deep, a glint of strong emotions flashing in her gaze. Darren caught it, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.


    "The documents," he reminded her, bringing her back to the present.


    "Oh! Right." Victoria quickly grabbed her bag and pulled out the contract.


    Darren took it, scanning the details and then waited for the system''s analysis.


    ©³Contract Scanning...©¿


    ©³Legitimacy Confirmed. No deceit detected.©¿


    ''Great.'' He accepted the pen she handed to him and signed the buyer''s name on the allocated space.


    Pamela Steele.


    Darren then handed her the contract and got on his feet.


    Victoria frowned as she leaned over to read it. "Wait, you signed it under another name?" Her tone was teasing. "Pamela Steele? Is that a family member or a romantic partner?"


    Darren didn''t reply.


    "Why not use your name?" she pressed, rising to her feet. "Even your bank account is under an alias, Mister Duckling. I don''t know if it''s possible that we can work with a nameless client. Are you really trying to keep your identity a secret?"


    Darren straightened up, slipping the pen into his pocket ¡ª basically claiming it as his ¡ª as he buttoned his shirt back up. "It''s my mother''s name," he said in a matter-of-fact manner.


    Victoria blinked. "Your mother?" She tilted her head, realization dawning on her. "So... this house is for her?"


    Darren smoothed out his sleeves, his movements effortless. "You could say so."


    Victoria watched him in silence, the gears in her mind shifting. ''Who is this guy?''


    At first, she thought this purchase was just another extravagance ¡ª some luxury home for a young, rich man who wanted to flaunt his wealth.


    But this?


    A son buying a million-dollar house for his mother at his age? That wasn''t something she saw every day. How rich was he? Certainly rich enough to buy a house like this just for his mother.


    If he could take care of a woman who was his mother in such a manner, then how would he treat a woman who was his girlfrie¡ª


    Before Victoria could daydream a bit more, Darren turned to her. "Can I have my copy of the document?"


    She snapped out of her daze. "Oh¡ª yes. Here." She handed it over.


    "Congratulations, sir," she said smoothly, recovering her professional tone. "You are now the owner of the property on Greenbaby, No. 147."


    Darren carefully held the contract in place for the system to scan.


    ©³Contract assessed


    ©³Digital unreachable copy has been stored in system''s memory©¿


    Then he said a "Thank you" to Victoria and walked to a closet desk by the bed, pulling one drawer and placing the contract inside before shutting close.


    As he turned and towards the door, Victoria hesitated, blocking his path.


    "Wait."


    Darren stopped but didn''t turn around. "What?"


    Her face was down, while she held the documents in her hand by the side of her breasts.


    After swallowing nervously, she found the courage to ask, "That woman you were talking to back at the estate headquarters... was she your girlfriend?"


    Darren raised a brow at her. "No." His voice was firm. "If you must know we''ve actually broken up now."


    Victoria''s cheeks flushed pink. She shifted her stance, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "So... you''re single?" she asked with a little too much enthusiasm.


    Darren observed her, already understanding where this was going. He exhaled lightly. "Yes." He replied with a cold steady voice. "And I plan on being that way for a while."


    Victoria''s hopeful expression faltered slightly.


    Darren continued, "This was great, Victoria. But our relationship will more than likely end here." He spoke so nonchalantly, like he was truly bored by the idea of having a girlfriend.


    "Unless I end up needing you again."


    Victoria flinched at that. "Needing me?"


    "Thank you for your services." His tone was final.


    Victoria swallowed hard, schooling her expression. She had just been rejected, hard.


    It was a rare occurrence, especially from someone who was younger than she was. But Mr Duckling was quite a distinct man, and she knew it. With his wealth, it wasn''t out of reach for someone like him to reject her. Irrespective of his age.


    Feeling hurt, she held her head down dejectedly.


    After a brief pause, she offered, "Would you need transport to return to the city?"


    Darren shook his head. "No, it''s fine. I''d like to walk around my new house for a while."


    Victoria pursed her lips, nodding. "Okay." Her voice was softer now. "...Goodbye."


    Then she turned and walked toward the vehicle waiting outside.


    Darren walked up the stairs and watched her enter the Cadillac. The engine hummed to life. The car rolled down the driveway, passing through the gates and finally disappearing into the distance.


    Darren remained where he stood ¡ª on the balcony of his new estate.


    A cool evening breeze passed through, ruffling the collar of his shirt. He took a slow breath as he admired the sheer expanse of the property now under his name. The front lawn stretched out lush and manicured, the surrounding landscape serene.


    He turned on his heel and stepped back inside, shutting the grand door behind him.


    Then, he summoned the Investor System.


    "System."


    A familiar chime rang in his mind.


    "Before the Red Fang loan repayment, is there anything else I need to do?"


    ©¤©¤©¤


    ©³Weekly Quest: Super Profit has been completed©¿


    ©³Monthly Quest: Build a Foundation is on track to be completed©¿


    ©³Monthly Quest: No Debt, No Stress has not been completed©¿


    ©³The following loans have not been repaid:


    ¨C Student Loan of $9,000


    ¨C Minor debt of $100 to coworker©¿


    ©³Also note that the loan borrowed from the Red Fang must be repaid as well to complete the monthly quest, No Debt, No Stress Quest.©¿


    ©¤©¤©¤


    Darren sighed.


    "Right. I think I owe that $100 to Eddie. I could just send a transfer anytime. But the Student Loan. I also have to pay that off but I can''t via transfer."


    A tentative breath escaped him. "Guess I have to step back into that godforsaken place once again."


    And with that thought, he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his mind already shifting to his next course of action.

 Chapter 30: Back in College

    Brookford University of Business and Literature. BUBL for short.


    If it was up to Darren, he would have renamed this place Brooklyn University of Literature and Business. Why?


    For the sake of creativity.


    Ever since he entered this college, it had always perplexed him how they''d criminally missed the opportunity to make ''BULB'' their abbreviation.


    Especially with bulbs being an indicator for knowledge and ideas and stuff.


    Darren let out a sigh. That was all by the way anyhow.


    Brookford University was a college where prestige met ambition, where the bright minds of tomorrow were shaped through rigorous education and relentless competition.


    Darren didn''t necessarily hold this opinion but it was what the school''s pamphlet said.


    The sprawling campus stood as an attestation to excellence, its neoclassical architecture mixed with modern designs, signifying a transition between old-world academia and new-age innovation.


    Tall white pillars supported the grand fac?ade of the main administrative building, giving it an air of timeless authority.


    To the right, a row of pristine glass-paneled structures housed the business faculty, reflecting the world outside like a mirror.


    To the left, ivy-clad brick buildings stood proudly, home to the literature department, where great authors and scholars once debated philosophy and prose.


    The university grounds were vast, with manicured lawns stretching in all directions, intersected by paved walkways lined with towering oak trees.


    Students moved about in clusters, some engaged in lively conversation, others buried in books or hurrying to their next lecture.


    Here and there, banners fluttered in the breeze, advertising upcoming events, academic conferences, and student-led initiatives.


    Darren took steps forward, walking past the main gate into the college premises.


    At that moment, his system activated.


    -------------------------------------


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Brookford University of Business and Literature (BUBL) is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Net Worth: $312 million©¿


    ©³Primary Income: Tuition fees, alumni donations, business partnerships, research grants©¿


    ©³Owner: Privately owned by Micheal Terrence, but facing internal instability regarding leadership succession©¿


    ©³Known for: Elite business programs, strong literature faculty, moderate prestige among Ivy League aspirants, notable alumni in corporate and political spheres©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡î©¿


    ©³Tactics: Maintaining tradition while expanding modern courses, aggressive recruitment of high-profile professors, securing corporate sponsorships to fund research and infrastructure©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: Institution''s ownership is fragile. Brookford will face certain collapse but future intel suggests Brookford will ascend to rival colleges such as Harvard and Princeton, making it a prime investment opportunity. Keep a close watch on leadership shifts and potential buy-in points.©¿


    -----------------------------------------


    Darren''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    He scanned the school, seeing a few memories flashing in his gaze.


    Not much had changed since he was in this school, but in his initial timeline, ten years from now, a lot had actually changed.


    Brookford had undergone a drastic transformation, rising to global prominence over the next decade. It expanded its faculties, upgraded its infrastructure, and became a powerhouse in business and literature studies.


    The signs of that future greatness were already here, just not yet realized. They would first have to suffer the consequences of their owners'' legal scandals and court cases.


    Darren remembered much of it.


    The system was right.


    ''I don''t really know what investing in a college could do for a crypto enthusiast like me,'' he thought. ''But an investor never looks down on an opportunity.''


    He made a mental note of that. If he played his cards right, he could position himself in the school''s growth trajectory and reap the benefits later.


    For now, though, he had a more immediate concern ¡ª paying off his damn student loan.


    --


    Darren walked across the campus, his polished Seamaster watch that he''d bought the other day, glinting under the afternoon sun.


    His crisp iron-sleeved shirt, the kind meant to be worn with a tuxedo, fit snugly against his athletic frame, though he hadn''t bothered to wear the full suit.


    Instead, he tucked the shirt into a pair of iron-pressed trousers, the simple but refined look completed with fine leather shoes that clicked softly against the pavement as he walked.


    Despite the subtle elegance of his outfit, Darren wasn''t actively trying to draw attention. Yet, it seemed impossible to avoid.


    As he moved through the campus, he noticed two female students lingering by a nearby bench. One of them, a brunette with bright eyes, waved at him flirtatiously, while the other giggled into her hand.


    Darren narrowed his eyes.


    ''What happened to me all of a sudden?'' he thought. ''It''s like women can''t take their eyes away from me now.''


    Was it the confidence that came with knowing the future? Or maybe his time in the business world had refined his demeanor into something more commanding?


    Either way, he wasn''t complaining ¡ª just... surprised.


    He did not say anything to the two girls and just looked straight ahead. That''s when he saw someone approaching.


    His expression shifted.


    A woman.


    Her blonde hair was neatly tied back, save for two strands that fell on both sides of her dainty face, the ends dyed pink.


    She had a poised and confident posture, her hips slightly swaying as she walked and her ponytail did as well. She had a slender yet curvy frame, the tailored fit of her light-gray blouse and black skirt accentuating it perfectly.


    Their eyes met.


    A flicker of recognition sparked between them, though neither spoke at first. Instead, they studied each other, still walking closer and closer.


    Until they both stopped. Just a few feet apart from themselves.


    Then, she broke the silence.


    "Excuse me," she said, tilting her head slightly, one hand resting on her hip. Her sharp blue eyes swept over his face, assessing. "Is there a possibility that we''ve met before?"


    Darren frowned slightly. Huh?


    ''So she doesn''t even recognize me.''


    "Yes," he replied after a brief pause. "You''re Alison Parker."


    Her eyebrows shot up. A flicker of surprise, then curiosity.


    "Oh!" she said thoughtfully, studying him the more. "You do know me, then. That means I know you too... but I can''t seem to place your face."


    Darren didn''t react to that.


    "We went to this college together," he reminded her. "Although I''m not surprised you don''t recognize me."


    He took a cold breath. Then answered with a more detached, confident tone.


    "It''s me. Darren Steele."


    Alison''s eyes widened.


    "Eh¡ª" She blinked, her disbelief evident. "Darren Steele?!"


    A mixture of shock and confusion crossed her face as she stared at him.


    What?

 Chapter 31: Death Wish Darren

    Alison Parker could only stare.


    She had recognized his face, sure, but that was only after he had said his name.


    Now, standing before him, she couldn''t believe her own eyes.


    Darren Steele? This was Darren Steele?


    The Darren she remembered from college had been lean, a little rough around the edges, had no idea how to comb his hair, had a perpetual lazy expression and an attitude that made him seem both indifferent and unfriendly.


    He had been the type to cut class without a second thought, yet somehow still ace his exams. The type of guy who could charm his way through anything except women.


    He''d also bring very, naturally witty and half because he genuinely didn''t seem to care about consequences.


    Death Wish Darren they had once called him.


    But now?


    The man standing in front of her was different. Entirely different.


    His posture was straight, refined.


    He carried himself with a calm confidence that was neither arrogant nor aggressive, just... self-assured. His crisp, ironed shirt and tailored trousers fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the lean muscle underneath.


    The Seamaster watch in his eyes threatened to blind her with the bright daylight. Was that a quiet sign of wealth?


    It was not the flashy kind, but it did speak of taste. Even his shoes, polished and pristine, suggested a man who paid attention to detail.


    Most striking, though, was his demeanor.


    His eyes had always been blue, but now they seemed brighter and stronger, holding an intensity she didn''t remember.


    They weren''t reckless anymore. They were controlled, composed. There was no slouch in his stance, no trace of the old Darren who used to breeze through college like he had all the time in the world.


    This was someone else.


    "You''re kidding," Alison finally said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Darren Steele? No way."


    Darren, standing there with his hands in his pockets, merely arched a brow. "I don''t know why I would be kidding. It''s me."


    She let out a breath, still trying to wrap her head around it.


    "What happened to you?" she blurted, still staring.


    Darren coldly raised a brow. "Are you suggesting that I''m somehow... deformed?"


    She looked at his eyes and shook her head. "What no. I''m saying..."


    She crossed her arms, studying him. "I''m saying you look different. I mean, you''re almost a completely different person."


    "Except I''m still Darren Steele," he stated in a detached manner.


    After another second of stunned silence, Darren glanced around the campus before returning his gaze to her. "And you, what about you? What are you doing here?"


    "Oh." She blinked, shaking herself out of her daze. "I teach here now. In the Art department. I''m a lecturer."


    Darren nodded. "A lecturer, huh? That suits you."


    Disagreeing internally, Alison tilted her head. "And you? What brings you back here?"


    "Paying off my student loans."


    Alison nearly choked. "You''re what?"


    Darren didn''t react, he just watched as she blinked at him in pure shock.


    "You''re paying off your student loans?" She narrowed her eyes.


    "You say that like I just told you that I''m going to mars."


    "Darren, no one pays off their student loans. Not even the ones who can afford to."


    "Guess I''m the exception."


    "But why?" She threw up one hand on her waist. "Even the rich kids just ignore it. That''s what the system is designed for. You''re supposed to pretend it doesn''t exist until it disappears into some financial abyss!"


    Darren shrugged. "I don''t like debts hanging over my head."


    Alison studied him for a long moment, clearly baffled. "You really changed."


    Darren didn''t answer.


    "Seriously," she went on, frowning in thought, pointing to his face as she slanted forward.


    "You were always reckless back in college. No offense, but you weren''t exactly the kind of guy anyone expected to be responsible about... well, anything. But now you''re paying off loans? Walking around like ¡ª like some kind of mega-businessman?"


    Darren stayed straight. "I don''t know what you''re expecting from me here, Alison."


    She wrinkled her face, overwhelmed. "I''m just shocked, Darren. That''s it."


    There was a beat of silence before she then stood straight. Then her lips curved into a knowing smile. "You know, back in college, no one would''ve ever thought you''d end up with Lily. Even I was surprised."


    Darren''s expression didn''t change, but his eyes did shift uneasily.


    Alison, watching him closely, continued. "I still remember the day people found out you two were dating. Half the girls on campus lost their minds."


    Darren exhaled through his nose, his voice even. "It was worse with the guys."


    "Yeah?" she said, raising one brow. "I mean, you were... well, you. And Lily? She was Miss Perfect. The golden girl. Pretty, smart, charming. Daughter of a multimillionaire. No one thought you two would ever happen."


    "Are you complimenting me or degrading me? Which one is it really?"


    Alison arched a brow. "How are you two, anyway?"


    Darren didn''t answer immediately.


    Something about the way she asked it made him pause. He looked at her for a moment before replying, his voice quiet, controlled.


    "We''re not together anymore."


    Alison stilled. Then, to his mild surprise, she giggled.


    "Oh! I should''ve known," she said, shaking her head with amusement. "She broke up with you, didn''t she?"


    Darren''s gaze remained steady.


    "No." His voice was calm. "I broke up with her."


    Alison''s smile faded.


    "Huh?" She stared at him, her eyes widening slightly.


    Darren didn''t elaborate.


    Instead, he glanced toward the Finance Department. "I have to go now," he said. "If I''m not mistaken, the bursar''s office is still at the end of the Finance Department, yeah?"


    Alison hesitated, still thrown by his words. Then she nodded. "Yeah... same place."


    "Hopefully, I can still find my way there."


    With that, Darren slipped his hands into his pockets and began walking away.


    Alison watched him go, still processing everything.


    She watched as he passed a small group of female students, giggling as they passed him.


    "Hey, sir," one of them called, voice teasing.


    Darren didn''t respond.


    ''What actually happened to this guy?'' Alison thought, watching him disappear past the Finance Department building.


    Once Darren entered the small building designated for accounting and payment, he delighted at the cool atmosphere inside after being blasted by the day''s sun.


    Climbing up a short flight of stairs, people moved aside instinctively, stepping out of his way without him even asking. Some glanced at him curiously, as if sensing something unfamiliar about his presence.


    He arrived at the bursar''s office and knocked.


    "Come in," a voice called.


    Darren pushed the door open and stepped inside.


    The office was tidy but packed, filled with neatly stacked paperwork, file cabinets, and a few decorative plants to liven up the space.


    Sitting at the large wooden desk was a plump woman in her late fifties, her round face warm and welcoming. She had short, curly auburn hair, small gold-rimmed glasses, and a pleasant smile that made her look like everyone''s favorite aunt.


    "Ah," she said brightly, adjusting her glasses as she looked him up and down. "You must be a new student here to discuss tuition plans?"


    Darren let out a small, quiet breath, amused.


    "No," he said smoothly. "I''m here to pay off my student loans."


    The woman blinked.


    Then, her face lit up with sheer delight.


    "Oh, well!" she said, laughing. "A responsible young man, huh? We don''t see many of those these days."


    Darren smiled faintly. "So I''ve been told."

 Chapter 32: Student Loan

    Darren gave the office a better look, perhaps he was sketching in his mind how his would be like one day.


    It certainly would be bigger and fancier than this. Not that it wasn''t a fine office on its own.


    The bursar''s office was the kind of place that smelled like paper, ink, and bureaucracy. The walls had old wooden shelves filled with stacks of neatly arranged files, and a large mahogany desk sat at the center, piled with more paperwork.


    A ceiling fan hummed softly overhead, doing little to combat the stuffy warmth of the room. The air carried a faint trace of vanilla and lavender, likely from the scented candle burning in the corner ¡ª a feeble attempt at making the space more inviting.


    Behind the desk, the plump woman in her late fifties gave him a big smile. Her auburn curls were very well done for her age, framing a round, pleasant face.


    She wore a floral-patterned blouse, a pair of small gold-rimmed glasses, and a warm smile that had undoubtedly calmed many nervous students over the years.


    "Well. I would say this," she said, adjusting her glasses as Darren stepped inside. "You are young but you certainly don''t look like one of my usual visitors."


    Darren''s lips curved into a smooth, easy smile. "Thank you for the compliment, Miss."


    "Oh, it''s Mrs. I''m Mrs Rita Edward. I''m married."


    "Your husband is a lucky man," Darren said


    The woman let out a hearty chuckle. "Oh, I like you already. Come, have a seat, young man."


    He took the chair across from her, settling in comfortably.


    "Now then," she said, picking up a pen. "What''s your name?"


    "Darren Steele."


    Her brow lifted slightly. "Steele, huh?" She adjusted her glasses again and flipped through the thick financial aid logs, her fingers skimming across the names until she found what she was looking for.


    "Ah, here you are." Her eyes flicked over the details before she glanced back up at him. "Looks like you still owe nine thousand dollars."


    Darren nodded, already reaching into his pocket.


    The woman, however, seemed a little amused. "Now, before we get to payment, I should ask; are you sure you want to do this all at once? Most folks take their time, stretch it out over the years."


    Darren smiled. "I prefer to get things done quickly."


    ''And also the system is being on my ass about having debts.''


    She chuckled. "A rare breed, aren''t you?"


    He placed a thick envelope on the desk. "Nine thousand, in cash."


    Her eyes widened slightly before she let out a short, approving whistle. "Well, well... can''t say I see this every day."


    She took the envelope and counted the bills expertly, fingers flipping through the crisp hundred-dollar notes. Once satisfied, she began typing into the ancient-looking computer at her desk.


    "Alright," she said, adjusting her glasses. "Since you''re paying in full, there''s no need for any further processing. I''ll just input this directly into the system, and you''ll be debt-free."


    She clicked through a few more screens before looking up at him with a smile.


    "And done. Just like that, Mr. Steele, you''re officially free from student loans."


    Darren leaned back slightly, a slow smile forming. "Feels good."


    The woman laughed. "I bet it does!" She shook her head, still amused. "Young men like you usually have different priorities. Either you''re throwing your money at cars, watches, or¡ª" she gave him a knowing look "¡ªpretty girls."


    Darren chuckled. "I like to think I have my priorities straight."


    The woman giggled like a schoolgirl, clearly taken by his charm. "Oh, you definitely do. Lord knows the number of young fools I see coming in here, begging for extensions."


    "Poor fellows they are. I''m not saying they should be like me, but I just hate having things hanging over my head," he said smoothly. "And I also hate stressing lovely women like you."


    She gave him an approving nod and smiled childishly at his words. "Oh stop it you cunning man. Now, let me just get your receipt printed, and we''re all set."


    As she turned back to the computer, Darren''s mind quietly processed everything.


    He remembered what the system had said about the fragile state of Brookfield College''s ownership.


    It was a fact. But no matter how much information the system could drag out of real life companies, nothing beats gossip. And women like this who were alone in offices doing nothing? They were the best at gossip.


    Leaning forward slightly, he rested an elbow on the desk and spoke in an offhanded, casual tone.


    "You know, I heard whispers about the college''s ownership situation."


    The woman froze for a fraction of a second.


    Darren caught it.


    "Whispers?" she repeated, her voice suddenly more measured.


    He nodded. "Not sure how true they are, of course. But surely, an attentive woman must have heard something."


    There was a pause.


    Then, the woman sat back, folding her arms. "Mr. Steele," she said in a firm tone, "I am not one to spread rumors."


    Darren sat back, raising his hands in retreat. "Of course not."


    Another pause.


    Then, she grinned, causing Darren to grin as well.


    She lowered her voice, leaning forward slightly. "It is a mess up there, I tell you."


    She continued, excited to be telling this to someone. "You didn''t hear this from me, but the president, Michael Terrence, is losing control. The board''s been circling him like vultures, and there''s some serious tension behind closed doors."


    Darren kept his expression neutral. "Any idea who''s making moves?"


    The woman gave him a pointed look. "Elliot Payne."


    Darren''s eyes flickered with recognition.


    "Payne," he repeated.


    She nodded. "A very persistent man. He owns the biggest education empire in the country. He wants to add Brookford to his web of schools. And from what I''ve overheard, he''s pushing hard to take over. It''s just a matter of time before something gives."


    Darren tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, processing the information.


    "Interesting," he murmured.


    Mrs Edwards chuckled. "You''re quite the curious one, aren''t you?"


    He flashed a grin. "I''m intrigued about things like this. But don''t worry, I''m not a reporter or anything."


    She laughed, shaking her head. "It''s bound to leak the press soon anyway. I won''t say anything else, but let''s just say; things are about to get even messier up there in management."


    "Hope the college makes it," Darren said.


    "Oh I do too."


    She slid the printed receipt across the desk. "Here you go. Official proof that you''re no longer in debt."


    Darren took the paper, tucking it neatly into his pocket.


    Then, without a word, he pulled out a stack of ten crisp hundred-dollar bills and placed it on the desk.


    The woman''s eyes widened.


    "What''s this?"


    "A thank-you," he said smoothly. "Get yourself a nice purse."


    For a moment, she just stared at him. Then¡ª


    Her face broke into the biggest smile yet.


    "Well, aren''t you just the sweetest thing," she said, practically beaming.


    Darren stood, buttoning his jacket. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs Edwards"


    The woman chuckled, tucking the bill away with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Pleasure was all mine."


    As he stepped out of the office, the system chimed in his head.


    ©³Student Loan Cleared Successfully©¿


    ©³No Debt, No Stress Monthly Quest is almost completed.©¿

 Chapter 33: College Girls

    Darren stepped out of the bursar''s office, his mind still circling the details of the college''s management.


    Owning the very university he had studied in... now that was an interesting thought.


    It was ambitious, bold, and ¡ª if he played his cards right ¡ª entirely possible. But this wasn''t a simple real estate purchase.


    A university wasn''t just about money; it was about structure, influence, and control. If he wanted to purchase an institution like Brookford College, he would need:


    A substantial investment, possibly requiring a few more Bitcoin withdrawals to generate enough liquid cash.


    A board of trusted executives ¡ª people with experience running institutions, preferably those who could be bought or persuaded to align with him.


    A legal team, especially an ironclad corporate lawyer to handle negotiations, bylaws, and contracts.


    An assistant, someone sharp, quick, and reliable to help manage the overwhelming logistics.


    Connections within the education sector, because influence mattered as much as ownership.


    A vision. This was important, because if he took over this school, he would need plans. No one respected a clueless leader.


    Darren exhaled slowly, tucking his hands into his pockets.


    Okay. He could wait.


    There was so much to do now and purchasing an entire school would take too much of his focus.


    But the system was right: he needed to keep a close eye. Buying a university wasn''t all that was at stake here.


    This was a chance to step into a position of power, and the best way to do that was knowing everything before making a move.


    That was business.


    It was a juicy prospect, and that was why it was still turning the idea over in his head when¡ª


    "Hey misterrr!"


    A chorus of female voices rang out, followed by the clicking of heels and sneakers against the pavement.


    The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by the same group of girls who had waved at him earlier.


    There were three of them, all dressed in stylish college attire; tight skirts, cropped sweaters, fitted jeans. The kind of outfits designed to accentuate curves and boy were there a lot of curves to accentuate.


    Their makeup was just subtle enough to look natural, but the effort was there.


    And the way they moved? Intentional.


    One girl twirled a strand of her honey-blonde hair around her finger.


    Another tilted her head just so, biting her lip as she smiled.


    The third let out a breathy laugh, her eyes practically drinking him in.


    "Mister Blue Eyes," one of them drawled, stepping forward slightly. "I heard a gossip that you schooled in this campus, huh?"


    "Is that true?"


    "If it is. You should have given us a warning," another chimed in. "We would''ve dressed up even better."


    Darren smirked slightly, keeping his expression cool. "You look fine to me."


    Big mistake.


    The girls giggled, clearly encouraged. One of them lightly touched his arm, the other playfully swatted his shoulder.


    "Can you tell us your name so we can remember you," one purred. "You''re so... composed. How did I miss you when you were here? I''ve always wanted a senior as a boyfriend."


    "Seniors become hotter once they graduate, don''t you agree?" another added, her eyes trailing down his frame. "Mature. Refined."


    Darren stayed relaxed, but internally, he was starting to feel a bit... bombarded.


    He was getting used to the attention, sure. He didn''t mind the glances. But this? This was starting to feel like a coordinated attack.


    One girl leaned in closer. "So, what brings you back? Business? Or were you... missing us?"


    Before he could answer¡ª


    "Girls."


    A firm, unimpressed voice spoke from behind him.


    Everyone fell silent.


    Darren turned and found himself facing Alison again, her arms crossed, brows creased to a stern expression.


    "You''re not harassing a school guest, are you?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of warning. "Run along to your next courses now. Leave the man alone."


    The girls let out a collective huff, their playful demeanor slipping for a moment.


    One of them muttered, "Buzzkill."


    Another rolled her eyes. "Fine. But only because our class is starting."


    But as they turned to leave, they flashed Darren one last smile, walking away with an exaggerated sway to their hips, just slow enough for him to notice.


    Darren sighed. ''College girls.''


    He turned to Alison who was still folding her arms, looking straight into his eyes like she was trying to figure him out.


    She shrugged with a single shoulder. "Seems you''re hot stuff now, Darren."


    Darren didn''t reply to that. He simply glanced around.


    "This is the business department," he noted. "Did you come here looking for me?"


    That caught her off guard.


    For a brief second, Alison felt something weirdly self-conscious settle in her chest.


    She was feeling nervous.


    Which was, of course, ridiculous. This was Darren Steele she was talking about here.


    Why was she so nervous?


    She found her voice. "I''m done teaching for the day," she said, shifting slightly. "So I wanted to find you. It''s not often I see a... friendly face from the past around here."


    ''Oh.'' Darren looked down at her with a questioning gaze.


    "Alison," he said gently. "You and I weren''t friendly back then."


    Her lips pressed together.


    "At least," Darren added, "you weren''t."


    A flicker of shame passed over her face before she exhaled nervously through her nose. "I just meant a familiar face," she muttered.


    And then, in an attempt to change the subject, she glanced up at the sky.


    "And speaking of hot," she said quickly, "the sun is really out today, don''t you think?"


    Darren followed her gaze. The sky was clear, the sun high and bright, casting a sharp warmth over the campus.


    "It is quite hot," he admitted. "But I''m sure a cold shower will fix me right up, though."


    Alison brought her face down and rested her eyes on his chest. And for a moment, she pictured it;


    Darren, standing under cold water, steam rising, droplets running down his toned shoulders, his chest, his abs, ever¡ª


    She shook the thought away immediately.


    ''What are you thinking, Alison?''


    She cleared her throat, lifted her gaze at him and spoke before she could think too much about it.


    "How about you forget about the shower," she suggested, "and get ice cream with me instead?"


    Darren raised a brow. "Ice cream?"


    "It''ll cool us both down."


    Darren considered it for a moment, and as he did, the system chimed in with some info.


    Ding!


    ©³This person is interested in you.©¿


    He looked down at Alison, her face casual, but her body language... subtly expectant.


    Is she really? He thought.


    After a moment, he decided that there was no reason against it. "Alright. Let''s go."


    Alison smiled. "Great. Let me grab my stuff, and we can head out."


    Darren followed her with his eyes as she entered the doors of the Art department a distance away.


    ''Gosh. Alison sure stayed in shape, didn''t she?''

 Chapter 34: Icecream Talk

    The late afternoon sun cast long shadows along the sidewalk.


    The golden glow made the bustling street appear delightful at this time of day. Cars hummed past, some sleek and new, others rattling with age.


    A street musician strummed a guitar a few feet away, his melody blending into the symphony of city life ¡ª the chatter of pedestrians, the occasional honk of a horn, the hum of conversation spilling from cafe? patios.


    Darren and Alison walked side by side, each holding a cup of ice cream. Each time their tongue took scoops of the delicacy, the cold, creamy treat melted, a welcome contrast to the summer heat.


    Alison stole a glance at him between spoonfuls, her mind running in circles.


    What was the deal with Darren Steele?


    She couldn''t stop comparing him to how he was back in college.


    Back then, he had been a complete underdog, ambitious but always shadowed by guys like Tyler Mooney, Jaxon Daniels and Terry Wilson.


    But somehow he''d actually made it.


    Or had he?


    She wasn''t so sure.


    He was mysterious, confident, somehow different yet the same.


    First of all, he had paid off his school loans, something no one did unless they were stinkingly rich.


    Yet, he didn''t even arrive in a personal car.


    His clothes were masculine and simple, the kind that suggested quiet wealth, yet they weren''t extravagant. Nothing about him screamed ''rich man,'' yet nothing about him suggested he was anywhere near struggling either.


    She couldn''t figure him out.


    And she didn''t like that.


    She needed to talk to Lily. Lily had been closer to him in the past ¡ª she had dated him, after all. Maybe she had some insight.


    Shaking the thoughts away, she decided to focus on the moment. "It''s weird, you know," she said. "Seeing you here again. Feels like college all over again."


    Darren thought about it. "I don''t know about that. You and I never went on walks back in college, and I''m not drowning in assignments."


    "That''s true," she laughed. "I on the other hand, l still am, though ¡ª just on the other side now. I''m the one giving the assignments." She sighed dramatically. "I don''t know what possessed me to become a professor here of all places."


    "Could''ve been worse."


    "Oh yeah?"


    "You could be stuck working in some cubicle, waiting for retirement," he quipped.


    Alison chuckled. "True. At least here, I get to reminisce about old times. Like Olivia. Remember her?"


    Darren nodded, licking his spoon. "The queen of our year."


    "She''s starting her own business now. Stepping away from her family''s empire. Wants to prove she can make it on her own."


    "Respectable."


    "And Lily''s working with her dad. Making sure their family company thrives."


    "Mhm."


    Alison sighed, looking at her half-eaten ice cream. "And me? I''m still here. Teaching."


    Darren glanced at her. "There''s nothing wrong with that."


    "No, I guess not," she admitted. "But it''s funny, isn''t it? How things turn out. The three of us were inseparable. And now, we''re each doing our own thing."


    "Life moves on, Alison. Stop thinking about it that way."


    She turned to him, admiring his chiseled face with a gleam in her eyes. "And you? What are you doing, Darren?"


    He wiped a drop of melted ice cream off his thumb and replied simply, "Business."


    She raised an eyebrow. "Business?"


    "Yes."


    "That''s all you''re giving me?"


    "That''s all there is to say."


    She narrowed her eyes playfully. "I thought you got a job in Lily''s father''s company."


    "We broke up," Darren said.


    "Huh? You said that already. Why did you have to..."


    Darren looked at her.


    "Oh. I guess it would be awkward working for your ex''s dad."


    A few beats of silence passed before Alison, unable to resist, brought up a name from the past. "You remember Tyler Mooney?"


    Darren''s lips twitched.


    Did Alison invite him here just to punish him with bad memories?


    "How could I forget? Son of Archibald Mooney. Richest man in the state. My biggest fan."


    Alison laughed at that. "At least you''re still sarcastic."


    He shrugged. "I don''t see any sarcasm. He spent a lot of time thinking about me. Who else does that if not a fan?"


    She shook her head, smiling. "Stop it, Darren. You see this what you used to do back then. You were persistent, though. You''d make me laugh. Kept trying to get my attention."


    "And you kept rejecting me," Darren said plainly, not even affected by it.


    Alison looked up at him, squeezing her lips. They were silent for a while before she then said;


    "Who knew you''d end up with Lily instead?"


    Darren hummed, saying nothing.


    Alison sighed, swirling her spoon in her melting ice cream. "You know, looking back, maybe I¡ª" She stopped herself. No, she wasn''t going to say it outright. But the thought was there, loud and clear.


    And as if reading her mind, Darren''s system notification appeared in his vision.


    ©³This person is regretful of how she treated you before.©¿


    He didn''t react outwardly, but inside, he found it amusing.


    Very amusing.


    Alison looked up at him once more, thought of it for a while, then found the courage to speak.


    "Maybe it''s fate, you know? That this happened. Or maybe it''s just luck."


    Darren remained quiet, waiting for her to get to her point.


    "You and Lily break up and somehow we run into each other again."


    ''Somehow?'' Darren thought. ''I didn''t just slip into the college. I went to pay my student loan.''


    She smiled as she spoke, a hint of something more behind her eyes. "Maybe we should give it a try."


    He glanced at her before looking forward. "Give what a try?"


    "Dating."


    Darren barely hesitated. "No."


    Alison blinked, caught off guard. "No?"


    "I don''t mean to come out as rude but I''m simply not interested." He said with a cool and firm tone.


    "Besides, if I were to accept after all those rejections years ago, that would make me an idiot."


    Then he turned to her, his blue eyes almost darkening, his voice lowering slightly.


    "I''m not an idiot, Alison."


    Alison felt her stomach drop.


    Those words were destructively blunt, cutting through any illusion she had built in her head. She swallowed, forcing a small, awkward smile. "Fair enough. I kinda deserve that."


    Silence stretched between them for a moment before she cleared her throat, trying to regain some normalcy. "Well, in that case... I''m having a small get-together next Friday. Just some old friends from college, nothing big. You should come."


    Darren studied her. "I''ll think about it."


    Just then, a soft chime from his system alerted him.


    ©³Bitcoin price has slightly fallen. Advised time period to purchase more has arrived.©¿


    His expression didn''t change, but internally, he knew what he needed to do next.


    He pretended to check the time on his watch and turned back to Alison. "I have to go. Business stuff."


    She nodded, trying to mask any disappointment. "Okay."


    "I''ll get you a cab." Darren stepped forward and outstretched his hand, his confidence effortless. A cab immediately slowed to a stop in front of them.


    Alison glanced at him before stepping in. "Goodbye, Darren."


    He gave a small nod, slipping his hands into his pockets as he watched the cab drive away.


    And as soon as she was out of sight, his face instantly turned resolute and he outstretched his hand once more


    Another cab stopped instantly.


    It was time to get to work.

 Chapter 35: Financial Paradox

    Rather than returning to Greenbaby, Darren decided to head to Malegreen Street where his home was.


    He unlocked the door, walked straight to the kitchen, pulled out a bottle of orange juice and began gulping it down.


    He noisily made his way to his bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed.


    Once he finished the entire paper bottle of orange juice, he threw it into the waste bin, scoring a perfect point as it entered straight in the empty basket.


    Then, he took off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and slumped down on his work chair, ready to begin a hopefully successful Bitcoin purchase session.


    With a mechanical slicing sound, the purple floating interface appeared before him.


    Darren lifted his fingers and pressed them against his chin, his gaze fixed on the glowing numbers displaced by the interface.


    It was slightly cold in his old room thanks to the fan he''d installed after paying the electric bill. The dim light of the room cast long shadows on the walls, the only sound in the quiet evening was the faint hum of the said fan above.


    He had placed his phone flat on the desk beside him, but his focus was entirely on the digital projections hovering before his eyes.


    The Bitcoin Investment Window displayed itself, the numbers crisp and clear.


    ©³Bitcoin Investment Window©¿


    ©³Price Presently: $0.4/BTC©¿


    ©³Price in Future: $50,000/BTC©¿


    "That''s quite a significant fall in a few days," Darren thought out loud. No wonder people were spamming the FuglyDuckling account again yesterday for giving them false hope after the initial rise.


    They had all thought that Bitcoin was going to rise on and on from there, and they''d went on to make huge purchases of the cryptocurrency. But just a few days later there was another fall.


    Why were they blaming Duckling?


    He couldn''t see how that was his problem. Or his fault.


    If there was one thing Business Everyday and that hot blonde reporter, Brooklyn whatever was right about, it was that Bitcoin was very inconsistent and unpredictable.


    ----------------------


    ©³Rises:


    ¡ª January 2011 - Major Rise - $6/BTC


    ¡ª April 2011 - Minor Rise - $9/BTC


    ¡ª June 2011 - Major Rise - $31/BTC©¿


    (Tap to see further rises for more than one year)


    ©³Crashes:


    ¡ª March 2011 - Minor Crash - $4.3/BTC


    ¡ª August 2011 - Major Crash - $2/BTC©¿


    (Tap to see further crashes for more than one year)


    ©³Your Investment ©¿


    ©³Invested: $82,500©¿


    ©³Profit: $928,125©¿


    ---------------------------


    Darren exhaled through his nose, then swiped the interface to the left. His personal Wallet Account came into view.


    His expenditure was displayed Before him;


    After spending $1,018,000 on the house property and resources, $9,000 on clearing his student loans, and another $1,000 for Mrs Edward''s purse, plus $3,000 on personal belongings and purchases, he was still sitting on a comfortable balance of $8,596,869.


    That was awesome.


    $8,598,869 left him with a good amount to invest as lavishly as he wanted. If he wanted to be risky, heck, he could purchase Bitcoin worth $8,000,000 and just casually manage the remaining $500,000 until a Major Rise.


    What''s stopping him?


    Ding!


    The sound of the Investor System interrupted his thoughts. A new notification popped up.


    ----------------


    ©³Lavish investments are allowed but must be regulated. Present investments can also affect future growth of the cryptocurrency, leading to a change in its expected rise in the future. This change could be good or bad but will eventually lead to a matrix in the currency system.©¿


    ©³This event is known as a financial paradox.©¿


    -----------------


    Darren narrowed his eyes, tapping his fingers against his knee.


    "A financial paradox..." he muttered. That meant that the more he invested, the more likely he was to influence the market itself.


    If he went too heavy, it could lead to an artificial inflation or an early correction ¡ª possibly ruining the natural course of Bitcoin''s growth.


    Too much investment could alter history itself.


    He took a moment to let that sink in, then spoke to the system.


    "Regulate my next Bitcoin purchase. Make sure I stay within safe limits."


    Another ding!


    ©³Advised purchase: $1,000,000©¿


    ©³Limit: $2,000,000©¿


    ©³Anything beyond $2,000,000 increases the risk of causing a financial paradox©¿


    Darren rubbed his chin, thinking.


    "I see."


    He went ahead and opened the New Investment Window.


    ©³Make New Investment©¿


    ©³There are no investment drafts. New investment can be initiated.©¿


    A confirmation window appeared.


    ©³Amount of Bitcoin to purchase: $________©¿


    Darren stayed silent as he thought. "Well, since one million is the advised amount, and two million is the limit... I guess I''ll go with one million..."


    His eyes gleamed.


    "... and five hundred thousand!"


    "Hah!" He chuckled. ''Right in the middle. Being safe and also taking risks as investors do.''


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve earned a Character Bonus!©¿


    Darren grinned. "You taught me well, system."


    Then, the final confirmation appeared.


    ©³Are you sure you want to purchase Bitcoin worth $1,500,000 at $0.4 per BTC?©¿


    ©³Estimated Holdings: 3,750,000 BTC©¿


    Without hesitation, he raised a finger and pressed©³Confirm©¿.


    The interface refreshed, calculations running in real time.


    ©³Investment Successful!©¿


    ©³BTC Purchased: 3,750,000©¿


    ©³Current Portfolio Value: $1,500,000©¿


    ©³Estimated Profit at Next Major Rise: $22,500,000©¿


    Darren exhaled and leaned back against the chair, his fingers interlocking behind his head.


    "Now we wait for the next Major Rise."


    ? ? ? ? ? ?


    Somewhere Else...


    "Holy shit! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"


    A chair scraped violently against the floor as Andy Nashville bolted up from his desk, sending his coffee sloshing onto his keyboard. He didn''t even care. His eyes were locked on his laptop screen, pupils dilated in pure shock.


    He snatched the laptop off the desk and sprinted down the hallway of the financial firm.


    "Sir! Sir! IT''S DUCKLING!"


    He burst into his boss''s office, panting, waving the laptop like a madman.


    Mr Sagomoto frowned at the sudden intrusion. "Andy, what the hell are you¡ª"


    "HE DID IT AGAIN!!" Andy shouted, nearly shoving the laptop into his face.


    The boss''s expression changed instantly as he snatched the device and scanned the data flashing on the screen. His jaw dropped.


    "Impossible..." he whispered.


    But there it was.


    Another massive Bitcoin transaction.


    Andy grinned wildly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.


    "That mad man."


    "He did it again..."

 Chapter 36: Broadcast Notification

    Andy Nashville bolted from his seat like a man possessed. The coffee spilled all over, his chair nearly toppled to the ground as he grabbed his laptop and sprinted toward the CEO''s office, his heart hammering.


    He did it again!


    He skidded to a halt in front of the polished oak doors and barely knocked before barging in.


    The office was as grand as ever¡ª dimly lit, lined with bookshelves filled with financial records and prestigious awards.


    Behind the sleek black marble desk sat Mr. Kaito Sagomoto, dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit, fingers steepled beneath his chin.


    His dark eyes flickered up, radiating mild annoyance at being interrupted again.


    "Andy, what the hell are you¡ª"


    "HE DID IT AGAIN!!" Andy shouted, nearly shoving the laptop into his face.


    Sagomoto''s gaze sharpened. "FuglyDuckling?"


    Andy nodded furiously and pointed to the screen on the laptop with excitement.


    The moment Sagomoto read the words, his breath hitched.


    ''FuglyDuckling just purchased Bitcoin worth $1,500,000!''


    Sagomoto''s fingers clenched against the desk. "Am I seeing that right?'' he asked Andy.


    "Yes you are sir. You are. This man... he''s amazing."


    "One point five million dollars?"


    Sagomoto''s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he just stared at the screen, unable to process what he was seeing.


    "Last time it was almost a hundred thousand dollars and now, one point million dollars? That''s a 1500% increase from his last investment!"


    "It is baffling that he is still investing..." Sagomoto muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. His hand slowly clenched into a fist. "Even after the crashes. Even after the dips. Even after everything, he''s still going all in!"


    This was no reckless fool throwing money away. This was a man who knew something. A man who saw past the short-term volatility. A man with conviction.


    This was a true business man!


    Sagomoto couldn''t take it anymore. He could not last another day without knowing who this man was and having him under his firm.


    He exhaled sharply and then turned to his employee. "Andy. Give me updates concerning his identity and scouting. Now."


    Andy pushed his glasses up.


    "There hasn''t been any worthy updates, sir. We''re still combing through purchase records, but he remains a ghost, sir. His wallet is unlinked to the CryptoTracker account. No name, no Gmail, no number ¡ª there''s nothing to track him with."


    Sagomoto gritted his teeth. His fingers drummed aggressively against the marble surface.


    ''I know you''re testing me, great Duckling sir! You want to know my drive! You want to discern how badly I wish to work for you! I won''t give up!''


    "I don''t care what it takes." His voice was directed at Andy. "I want this man found. If we have to hire hackers, we''ll hire them. If we have to bribe someone at the exchange, we will. Get me his name. His address. His face. Andy, you hear me?"


    Andy swallowed. "Yes, sir."


    Sagomoto''s fingers pressed against his temple. "If he''s willing to invest this much on something everyone else doubts, imagine what he''ll do if he has my firm behind him. I will make this man the greatest business man to grace this country. He has rekindled a passion in me, truly!"


    "Tell me everything you need and you will have it! No one else can have him, Andy."


    His eyes flashed dangerously.


    "If Ryan Anders and the rest of the bastards at MWMO gets to him before we do..."


    Andy stiffened. He knew what that meant.


    Failure was not an option.


    "I will be on it right away, Mister Sagomoto!"


    ¡ª


    Meanwhile, speaking of the MWMO, in another high-rise office, Ryan Anders sat at his desk, his fingers idly clicking a silver ballpoint pen against his palm.


    He clenched his jaw, gnashing his teeth continuously as he thought.


    The CEO of Moon Wealth Management Offices was leaned back in his leather chair, his piercing blue eyes locked onto his laptop screen.


    Once again, there it was. Another time this mystery man has brought the online business world on its feet.


    ''FuglyDuckling just purchased Bitcoin worth $1,500,000.''


    He inhaled deeply, a smirk ghosting his lips.


    "So you''re still at it, huh?"


    He turned his head slightly. "Any updates from the IT team?"


    Standing near the doorway, his secretary, Amelia, the sharp-dressed woman in her late twenties, shook her head. "Nothing. His wallet remains completely detached from any registered accounts. We can''t trace an official owner."


    Ryan''s smirk disappeared. His eyes darkened.


    No official owner. No traceable Gmail. No registered number.


    A complete enigma.


    His fingers tapped against the desk in thought. "There''s that young hacker we once caught tampering with our server, what was his name?"


    "Rico Evans, sir."


    "Yes. He''s preparing for his court case, isn''t he?" Anders purred condescendingly. "Obviously he will lose. Phone him. Tell him we''ll be willing to drop all the charges if he helps us find out who this man is."


    "Right away, sir."


    Amelia hurried out of the office, but not before once again inviting predatory stares from her boss as she left.


    He lowered his eyes to the screen after, peering at the notification.


    "This madman... I want him under my thumb as soon as possible."


    Multiple comments kept popping up.


    ¡ª


    In his room, Darren casually scrolled through the comments, and completely couldn''t help the amusement he got watching the hysteria unfolding in the comment section of CryptoTracker.


    FuglyDuckling had struck again.


    And just like before, the internet was losing its mind.


    @DegenInvestor: This guy has lost his damn mind. $1.5 million?! Bro, what are you even thinking?


    @SatoshiKnowsBest: Imagine being THIS confident while the rest of us are panicking. LMAO.


    @Mr.MoneyMaker: HE''S BACK. FUGLYDUCKLING IS BACK, BOYS. ALL IN!


    @WalletWarrior: Bro saw Bitcoin dip and said, "Hold my beer."


    @HandsomeDuckling: I give up. He''s the better Duckling.


    ---


    Then there were others completely hating on him, saying that he''s just an all risk investor. Some kept talking about ScottishPanda, comparing both of them, claiming that ScottishPanda was a smarter kind of investor.


    He didn''t know what was the deal about this ScottishPanda guy, he''d noticed some jabs the business man had thrown his way, but he didn''t care.


    He didn''t give a shit about him.


    As for the comments;


    "It''s real funny watching people opinionated on something... when you know the unchanging truth." Darren leaned back, amused.


    But then, he suddenly got another notification popped up at the top of his phone screen.


    ''CheyenneLamb has started following FuglyDuckling.''


    Darren''s eyebrows rose slightly. ''Wait. What?''


    That couldn''t be the real Cheyenne Lamb, right? Cheyenne L. Bordeaux ¡ª the heiress of the Bordeaux Corporation, the second-largest Empire Company in the state?


    He then saw comments, many, being shocked that this mystery man was now being followed by the Cheyenne Lamb. Fanboys and simps filled the comment session of that broadcast notification.


    ''Hold on, it actually could be her.''


    Curious, he tapped her profile.

 Chapter 37: Firewall

    Her display picture was a sleek, high-resolution image of a woman in her late thirties, dressed in a form-fitting black business suit and was sitting on a throne-like chair.


    She had very beautiful eyes, silver and enchanting, faint cheekbones, an oval tender face and glossy dark hair styled in bangs and cut at neck length.


    Beneath her picture were several highlighted banners, information of her company, her assets, her personal information that she permitted to the audience and other stuff concerning her business;


    - Bordeaux Corporation (Finance, Real Estate, Luxury Assets)


    - Lamb & Co. Investment Group


    - High-Stakes Investment Opportunities (Min Buy-in: $10M)


    Darren then noticed that her profile had a golden tick next to her name.


    ''Well, that''s fancy,'' he thought.


    Seeing it was selectable, Darren tapped it.


    A small window loaded and showed an explanation of the golden tick.


    Golden Tick ¨C Ultra Verified Billionaire User


    (Exclusive to business moguls, influential CEOs, and ultra-high-net-worth individuals.)


    "Vain things like these are pretty cool sometimes," Darren muttered. "If I ever claim the FuglyDuckling account, I''d want a golden tick. It makes the blue one seem inferior."


    His eyes lowered the next option;


    See more golden tick accounts?


    Darren was just about to tap Yes when¡ª


    Dong!


    His system snapped into existence before him.


    This sound was more terrifying than the usual lighthearted Ding! the system usually made. It sounded like something bad was happening, or was about to happen.


    And indeed, that was the case.


    The usual purple colored interface had turned blood-red and warning flashed across his interface.


    ©³WARNING! WARNING!©¿


    ©³HACKING ATTEMPT DISCERNED.


    SOMEONE IS TRYING TO BREACH YOUR BITCOIN PROFIT WALLET.©¿


    Darren''s smirk vanished. "What?!" His fingers froze over the keyboard of his phone and he flung the device aside.


    His eyes narrowed.


    "What do you mean hacking?!"


    He even got a notification on his phone from the Bitcoin purchase website that he didn''t really use, asking him if he wanted to withdraw the money he''d just invested.


    His system''s alarms continued to blare louder and louder, notifying him of the active hacking attempt on his Bitcoin profit wallet.


    Darren tried to maintain composure, his fingers drummed against his desk, mind reeling.


    ''The system educated me on this. There are steps I can take and the system can only implement them if I give it the direct order! What was it?!''


    Another notification flashed on his phone screen.


    ''Security bypassed, portfolio is being returned to cash to be withdrawn.''


    What kind of skilled hacker is this?! They''d already broken past his security!


    With a burst of urgency, he remembered!


    "System, secure the wallet and engage multi-layer encryption. Now."


    ©³Beginning emergency lockdown©¿


    A second later, his screen flooded with updates.


    ©³Firewall: Reinforced


    Multi-Layer Encryption: Engaged


    IP Cloaking: Active


    Wallet integrity remains intact. Hacking attempt repelled©¿


    There was silence first. Darren glanced at his phone, waiting. Then a notification appeared:


    ''Withdrawal has been successfully cancelled.''


    The tension in Darren''s shoulders eased slightly and he let out a sigh of relief.


    Whoever it was, they weren''t getting in. But that wasn''t enough. Someone had the audacity to try and breach his security. He needed to know who.


    "System, identify the hacker."


    ©³Traceback: In Progress...©¿


    Lines of code cascaded across the screen, his system tracing the breach back to its source. Coordinates, network paths, and encrypted tunnels unraveled one by one, until finally¡ª


    ©³Hacker located. Would you like to view?©¿


    Darren didn''t hesitate. "Show me."


    The screen flickered, shifting from data streams to an unauthorized access into the hacker''s device. The almighty Investor System had breached their camera feed, but the image was obstructed¡ª a strip of tape covered the lens.


    Darren''s system overrode the interference, enhancing the resolution just enough to form a hazy image. A faint outline appeared. The hacker was a woman.


    Red hair.


    A choker necklace.


    Some cleavage.


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. He knew her.


    He remembered the day he''d gone to DataForge.


    It was that computer chick. Kara.


    Did she know he was FuglyDuckling? Or was she just trying to steal from the most talked about business investor in online trade?


    His jaw tightened.


    "System, connect me to the laptop''s speaker."


    A moment later, a number materialized on the screen. And after some calculations, the system gained access to the speaker.


    Kara was still tapping her way on her keyboard, trying to reclaim control of the wallet.


    "For hell''s sake! What kind of firewall is this?" She grinned. "This duckling guy sure has some powerful tech nerds to push me out of control like that."


    Then¡ª click.


    She heard a sharp inhale from the other end. Silence.


    She looked around. "What the fuck was that?"


    "Kara."


    "Ah!" She yelped, recoiling backwards and staring at her computer.


    Darren''s voice was calm, yet edged with steel. "Kara DeAndre. That''s your full name, isn''t it."


    A beat of silence. Kara stared at the monitor, her heart beating. "Who is this?"


    Darren leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the flickering screen. "You shouldn''t tape your camera with cheap adhesive. Leaves too much static interference."


    Kara''s breath hitched. "...Oh. Are you... the Duckling guy?"


    Darren didn''t answer that. "You''re in your apartment right now. Midtown. Fourth floor. Second window from the left."


    More silence. A nervous chuckle. "...That so?"


    She looked around, then got more tape and tried to cover the camera more.


    But the system had already tapped into a security camera installed on her wall. Darren had a new angle to watch her from.


    "You know, for someone who tried to break into my wallet, you''re surprisingly sloppy."


    She giggled, masking her unease. "I wouldn''t call it breaking in. More like... knocking politely."


    Darren scoffed. "With a crowbar?"


    She clicked her tongue. "Okay, maybe a little force."


    He ignored her attempt at humor. "Kara DeAndre. Twenty-six. Graduated top of your class in cybersecurity, but never took a corporate job." He let that hang before adding, "Too rebellious for structure, huh?"


    A pause. She then replied: "I prefer the term ''independent contractor.''"


    Darren didn''t laugh. "Right. Independent. Like that stunt with the Federal Database last year?"


    Kara stiffened. "...You know about that?"


    "From what is right before me, it seems I know everything. You''ve made a mistake, Kara."


    Her breathing slowed. She was finally realizing just how deep she''d dug herself.


    Darren''s voice dropped an octave. "Now, here''s what we''re going to do."


    Kara swallowed. "I''m listening."


    "You''re going to meet me. Tonight. You bring your laptop, and we have a talk."


    A sharp inhale. "What if I don''t?"


    Darren''s next words were a whisper of finality. "Then you''ll find out just how much I actually know about you."


    Silence.


    Then Kara spoke, "Text me the location?"


    A smirk tugged at Darren''s lips. "How stupid do you think I am? I know all your hacker antics. Texting would help you trace the message. You want to find me before I find you."


    Kara gulped.


    "You''re smart. I''ll give you that. But every move you make from now will be moves I tell you to make. Understood?"


    "Yes," she answered, her voice less brave than before.


    "Your first move. Castle Cottage. Meet me there."


    And with that, he cancelled the connection.

 Chapter 38: Everydays For The Thief

    After numerous nightly discussions with Sandy in this place, Castle Cottage was quickly becoming a regular for Darren.


    Which is why he chose it for his meeting with his cunning hacker. Being in a familiar place gave him an edge.


    Although he already didn''t need it, he still had to be smart with this girl.


    The dim glow of many hanging lanterns bathed Castle Cottage in a warm, golden hue. The rustic outdoor restaurant sprawled beneath the open sky with the canopy of vines and fairy lights stretching over wooden tables.


    The scent of grilled meats and fresh bread wafted through the crisp night air, mingling with the simple noise of quiet conversation.


    Kara stepped inside, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag tighter than usual. Her jittery eyes darted around the restaurant, scanning each face, each table, each shadowed corner.


    This was the place. Mr. Duckling had told her to come here.


    Any of these people here could be him. A man. A child. A woman. They might have used a voice modulator.


    Her nerves gnawed at her, but she masked it well.


    She was dressed the way she always did; casual with a gothic edge. A black oversized hoodie hung loosely over her frame, unzipped just enough to reveal a fitted, dark tank top underneath.


    The silver chain around her neck gleamed against her pale skin, and her ripped skinny jeans clung snugly to her legs, tucking into a pair of heavy combat boots. Her nails were painted a deep crimson, the same shade as her tousled red hair, which cascaded over one shoulder in messy waves.


    She carried a satchel slung across her body, the weight of her laptop resting against her hip.


    Letting out a sharp exhale, she rubbed her arms and a chill ran down her spine. Everything about this whole situation made her uneasy.


    "What have you gotten yourself into now, Kara?"


    A million and a half Bitcoin purchase. It was none of her business. She didn''t have to go hacking into it.


    Why do I always do this?


    She bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder once more before sighing and finding a table near the edge of the restaurant, where she could see everyone but remain unnoticed herself.


    However, there was one person she couldn''t see. Darren Steele. Standing by the shadows, watching her.


    The system had done its job. Secured the wallet. Traced the hacker. Now, it was time for him to do his.


    Kara was aflutter, though she tried to hide it behind nonchalance. The way she kept scanning the crowd, shifting in her seat, glancing at her surroundings like she expected someone to tap her shoulder at any moment.


    She was nervous. Which was good. She should be.


    Unfortunately, as he knew, the system couldn''t read emotions beyond their direct relation to him.


    If she was afraid of him, it would tell him. If she was only afraid of the situation itself, it remained unreadable. That meant he had to rely on his perception alone.


    And perception told him Kara wasn''t just scared. She was curious.


    She wasn''t the type to be easily intimidated, which meant her nervousness wasn''t purely fear ¡ª it was intrigue, excitement even.


    She was a wild card. Heck, most hackers were. Living her life on the edge, stretching her arms to see just how much she could reach without getting in trouble.


    He saw it in the way her fingers tapped against the wooden table, in the way her teeth toyed with her lower lip, in the way her eyes scanned but never truly settled.


    Well. Everyday''s for the thief and one day''s for the owner.


    Darren moved forward.


    ---


    Starting to become impatient, Kara lifted her head and saw a young man approaching. Her fingers instantly stilled.


    Her eyes locked onto his figure as he stepped toward her table, each slow stride measured and deliberate.


    He didn''t blink. Didn''t look away. He let her take in his face, let her remember him.


    Kara furrowed her brows slightly, trying to remember where she had seen that face. Then her breath trapped in sudden realization.


    "You," she said.


    Darren didn''t sit yet. He simply stood in front of her, hands in his pocket, looking at her.


    Kara''s head tilted, her gaze raking over him now, studying him. He could see the exact moment recognition deepened in her expression, the way her lips quirked up, then curled inward as if suppressing a grin.


    She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, tapping her nails against her thigh. "No way," she breathed out, shaking her head in amusement. "You''re FuglyDuckling?"


    Darren''s expression didn''t shift. "So you didn''t know it was me."


    "I had no... idea," she admitted, still shaking her head. "This must be the greatest coincidence. Wow..." Her eyes flickered over him again, slower this time. "I know I saw you once, but..."


    She watched him use his masculine arm to pull the chair backwards, then sat down before her.


    Her cheeks flushed red. "Wow..."


    Darren ignored her sultry gaze. "Give me your laptop," he said.


    Kara blinked. "So direct. What, no foreplay?"


    Darren extended his hand expectantly.


    She sighed, rolling her eyes as she unzipped her bag and slid the laptop onto the table. "You weren''t this good looking when I first saw you."


    Darren ignored her, opening the laptop and running the system scan.


    Seeing multiple security set ups, he turned it to her to unlock it all.


    "First you exchange $200,000 in my cyber store and then you purchase almost 2 million worth of Bitcoin. Who really are you? A money launderer?"


    She smiled at him teasingly as she handed him back the laptop.


    Darren went through it. As expected, nothing on the device gave her access to his funds. Everything was locked down. His firewalls were impenetrable, his transactions untraceable.


    But what was on her laptop made him pause.


    The system displayed a list.


    Kara''s Access Logs:


    Corporate financial records (top companies)


    Private security feeds (highly restricted zones)


    Banking systems (capable of infiltration but left untouched)


    Personal data breaches (extensive, but seemingly for curiosity rather than crime)


    Darren glanced at her. This girl had access to so many powerful companies and corporations. She didn''t tamper with them, sure, because that would turn her into a national level criminal.


    But still, the fact that she had access to them was impressive.


    Kara raised an eyebrow. "Hey, are you done there? That''s supposed to be private, you know."


    Darren shut the laptop, meeting her gaze. "So was my Bitcoin wallet."


    She pouted. "Ugh, still just as cold, I see."


    Once the system finished its scan, Darren leaned back slightly, his gaze locked at Kara.


    "You''re a great hacker," he admitted.


    Kara, surprised at his compliment, grew shy for a moment and looked away. "I am good at what I do."


    "I can see that."


    She tilted her head, becoming defensive. "Is that it? Look, I get it ¡ª you''re laying low, right? Trying to keep things quiet? I totally understand. Friends come around, the press too. I completely get it. You''re trying to focus on the bag, no distractions. So I''ll shut my mouth. I can be quiet. See."


    She zipped her lips with her fingers, then gave a cheeky thumbs-up.


    Darren just stared at her.


    She stared back.


    Neither of them spoke.


    Seconds passed. Then more.


    Kara''s eyes twitched slightly, her fingers curling against the table.


    Then, her eyes started to redden.


    She exhaled sharply and gave up. "Okay, maybe I can''t stay quiet."


    Darren barely reacted. "Not only are you going to keep your mouth shut but you''re going to make up for this by doing what I say."


    Kara narrowed her eyes, sensing the serious moment. She leaned in slightly. "Is this a sex thing?"


    Darren stared blankly at her. ''She''s crazy.'' In his mind, he facepalmed.


    Saying nothing to that, he put both hands in his pockets once more and got on his feet. "Come. Let''s go.."


    Kara blinked. "Huh?"


    "You''re coming with me."


    She hesitated before grabbing her bag, slipping her laptop inside as she rose to her feet. "Come with you where?"


    Darren turned, already walking.


    Kara sighed, following after him. "You really need to start elaborating, you know."


    Darren didn''t say anything, he just continued further towards the road where cars kept dashing through.


    Kara stared at him in disbelief. "Mr Duckling? Mr Duckling?"


    He didn''t answer, he just kept walking.


    She lowered her head and sighed. "That handsome son of a bitch."


    Then she hurried after him.


    ----


    A/N


    I don''t usually like putting the Author''s Note here but y''all usually skip it when it''s in usual position anyway, lol ?? ?? ??? ??


    Just wanted to point out that I''ve seen some comments about how things are done such as School Loans, banks, transfers, types of cars, houses etc. Please remember that setting is 2010 not present. Many things were done differently at the time.


    As for the state and cities, please check the aux chapter. I''m not American so I do not want to butcher locations and distance between locations, city and street names and so on. So to give myself some freedom, I created replacement names for popular states and cities. They''re not hard to figure out, such as Los Alverez for Los Angeles.


    Thanks!

 Chapter 39: Hacker Girl

    The front door swung open and Kara stepped inside first before Darren followed, slipping the house keys into his pockets.


    Kara''s eyes widened at the place. A grand foyer with polished floors, a curved staircase, and a chandelier that looked like it could crush a man if it ever decided to drop.


    And was that...? She sniffed the air. Vanilla. That was the scent of vanilla in the air alongside something even more expensive.


    She turned a slow circle, taking it all in.


    "Okay, what the hell," she said. "You are actually bat shit rich. I''m... I''m lost for words."


    She looked at him. "Should I be worried? Are you secretly building a batmobile in the basement?"


    Even though he approved of the joke, Darren ignored her as he took off the coat he''d been wearing and hung it on the coat hanger by the door.


    As he did, the sound of footsteps echoed loudly, coming basically out of nowhere.


    Kara jerked, eyes darting toward the source of the sound.


    An older woman emerged from the stairs in a crisp housekeeping uniform. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun, and her face was lined with the kind of sharp discipline that came from years of running a household with an iron grip.


    Her gaze flicked between them, landing on Kara with a cool, assessing stare.


    Darren glanced over. "Kara, this is Gladys. Gladys, Kara."


    Gladys gave Kara a look that could freeze lava.


    Darren turned to Kara with a more serious expression. "Gladys is my housekeeper. Which means she''s the boss of the place. She''s very particular. Do whatever Gladys says."


    Kara blinked. "Wait, whatever she says? What if she asks me to scrub the floors with a toothbrush?"


    Darren just walked off, heading to the dispenser to get a cold drink of water.


    Kara turned back to Gladys and forced a nervous smile. "Hi." She gave a small wave.


    Gladys did not return the greeting. Instead, she narrowed her eyes in a way that suggested she could see straight into Kara''s soul and did not like what she found there.


    Kara''s smile thinned. She slowly turned and walked away. "Okay, she certainly doesn''t like me."


    Darren, now at the dining table, gestured toward it. "Put your bag and laptop here."


    Kara scoffed. "Oh, so we''re getting straight to business, huh? No tour? I thought Gladys was the particular one."


    She huffed dramatically as she pulled out her laptop and sat. "What room am I even staying in for the night?" As she opened the computer, another thought hit her. "Hey, Mr. Duckling, do you have a pool? Boy, I could really use a pool."


    "Concentrate," Darren said, walking toward her.


    "Okay, okay," she muttered, turning on the computer. "So what''s this job you''re hiring me for?"


    Darren pulled out a chair and sat across from her. His expression turned serious. "I need you to hack into the Red Fang Association''s secret account."


    Kara''s fingers hovered over her keyboard. Slowly, she looked up at him. "Uh. Excuse me?"


    "You didn''t hear what I said?" Darren asked genuinely.


    Kara shut her laptop. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Absolutely not. I am not getting on the bad side of the Red Fang Association. I do my best not to mess with shady people, and Red Fang are really shady people."


    She narrowed her eyes. "What the hell are you even doing messing with them?"


    "Not your concern," Darren said flatly.


    "Oh, but it is my concern," Kara countered. "Because if I get caught, I get to be very dead. That is extremely my business."


    Darren leaned back, watching her. Then he said, "State a price."


    Kara paused. "Huh?"


    "State your price," Darren repeated.


    Her fingers twitched. She sat up straighter, thought of it for a moment before responding:


    "Ten thousand."


    "Done."


    Kara blinked. "Wait, what?"


    "Fifteen thousand," she tested.


    "Agreed."


    Her jaw slackened. "What the¡ª okay. Twenty thousand."


    "Agreed."


    She narrowed her eyes. "Forty thousand."


    Darren frowned. "You had three chances. The price is set at twenty thousand."


    Kara exhaled, shaking her head. "Damn. You''re too good at this." She grinned. "Fine. Twenty it is."


    Darren nodded. "I''ll be going to one of their lairs to make a payment. But I need an assurance in case things go south. That''s where you come in."


    Kara cracked her knuckles. "Alright. Lemme work my magic."


    Darren let out a sigh. Normally, he would have let the system handle something like this. It was already skilled at hacking¡ª flawless, efficient, and undetectable.


    But this job required the skill of a human hacker. He needed a kind of precision that only a human could have. And this had to be a two person job.


    He and the system were one.


    As she set to work, Darren''s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw it was Sandy. He answered.


    "Hey, Darren!" Sandy''s voice was warm.


    "Sandy," Darren replied with the same tone. "How''ve you been?"


    "I''ve been great. Really great. Uhm... I came by to visit but you weren''t at home. I was just really excited and I wanted to thank you. Because of your advice to have patience, I actually made a profit from Bitcoin last week. One of the very few who did."


    "Really? I''m glad to hear that, Sandy," Darren said.


    "Thank you! And hey, FuglyDuckling broke another record today with a crazy buy. Did you see?"


    Darren''s grip on the phone tightened slightly. He kept his voice casual. "Yeah. That guy must really be out of his mind, huh?"


    "I don''t know. I think he''s a genius," Sandy laughed. "By the way, what''s your account on CryptoTracker? Let''s follow each other. Mine''s SandyBeach."


    Darren hesitated. Shit. He didn''t have an account and he hadn''t yet claimed FuglyDuckling, it was still a placeholder account.


    Wouldn''t Sandy find it suspicious if he told her he didn''t have an account when he was the one that suggested the app to her?


    Thinking quickly, he said, "Let''s play a game, Sandy. I''ll send you a friend request, and you have to guess which amongst your requests is me."


    Sandy chuckled. "You''re very funny, Darren. Okay, I''ll play your game."


    He exhaled. Crisis averted.


    "Also," Sandy added, "it''s been almost a week since our usual get-together at Castle Cottage. Should we do one soon?"


    Darren thought. "Maybe next week. I''ll let you know the date."


    "Hey, I''m in!" Kara called out.


    Sandy heard the feminine voice. "Oh. Are you with someone?"


    Darren clenched his jaw. "Just a friend. I''ll send you the request, okay? Then we''ll talk more. Good night."


    "Okay. Goodnight."


    He ended the call and walked to Kara. She spun her laptop toward him.


    "Here are the numbers," she said, tapping the screen. "You don''t need to know all the hacking gibberish. Point is, I''m in."


    ©³Access into Red Fang Account is successful©¿the system informed him that she was right.


    "Well done," Darren complimented her.


    "But I do need one thing," Kara said. "For me to actually do anything to the account, I need a connection to a computer that has account access inside one of their lairs."


    Darren considered. "I can do that. Since I''ll be going there, I can get you the connection you need."


    Kara clapped her hands. "Great. I''m not sure if I have a router here, but let me check."


    "Don''t worry about that," Darren said.


    She frowned. "How are you gonna get me a connection without a router?"


    Darren didn''t answer. He just headed towards the stairs and began to climb it, hands in pockets.


    "Mr. Duckling?" Kara called. "Mr. Duckling!"


    He kept going.


    Kara sighed, shaking her head. "That handsome son of a bitch."

 Chapter 40: Car Deal

    The city''s wealthiest had a way of marking their presence. Not in words, but in machines.


    Outside Monarch Motors, the street gleamed with symbols of affluence. There were multiple beautiful cars showcased in front of the large building.


    Rolls-Royces idling under the sun, Ferraris humming as they slipped into traffic, Bentley owners waiting for valet service to return their keys.


    Even the sidewalk seemed to carry a scent of money ¡ª expensive cologne, leather seats, the faint, intoxicating smell of burnt rubber from cars too powerful for the roads they were confined to.


    Los Alverez was a beautiful city of wealth, extravagance and the celebrity lifestyle.


    The dealership itself was no different. It was a statement of its own.


    Glass and steel stretched high, the architecture sleek, modern for its time and deliberately designed to mirror the very products it sold.


    Inside, luxury cars sat on raised platforms under golden spotlights, polished to a mirror sheen.


    There was no loud music, no gaudy advertisements, only the soft hum of expensive conversations, whispered negotiations, and the quiet hiss of champagne being poured for VIP clients.


    Darren Steele stepped out of the private taxi he''d chauffeured, adjusting the cuff of his Tom Ford suit.


    The Red Fang loan repayment was in two days and he needed to not only arrive there in style but also in presence.


    Loan sharks were very used to being bullies and extortionists. If he presented himself as someone who couldn''t be bullied to pay more than was initially agreed, then they would most likely back off.


    If they didn''t, he had his plan with Kara.


    Once he was close enough to the front door of the company, the Investor System declared with a ding that the Insight Protocol was ready.


    The interface appeared before him:


    -------------------


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Monarch Motors is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Value: $320 million©¿


    ©³Primary Business: Luxury and exotic car sales, limited edition imports, celebrity and high-net-worth clientele©¿


    ©³Owner: Formerly Victor Mathis (Deceased, 2 days ago)©¿


    ©³Current Status: Ownership is being contested by his children, Alexander and Juliet Mathis. Disputes over business direction may lead to instability in pricing and negotiations.©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Tactics: Overprices rare models due to exclusivity, pressures buyers into unnecessary add-ons, prioritizes personal relationships with wealthy clients over standard buyers.©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: Use the dealership''s internal instability as leverage in negotiations. Prices may be more flexible than usual. Be wary of hidden fees.©¿


    --------------------


    Darren absorbed the information in silence.


    So the owner was dead. That explained the slightly uneasy energy in the showroom. With the children fighting for control there could be a possibility that many of the cars present would want to be sold quickly in case a new management had a different approach.


    A perfect weakness.


    It was interesting how many companies and businesses were actually in a fragile state of ownership.


    What would be a more profitable property to purchase? A college or a car dealership?


    Darren left that thought for later when he would delve into more solid investments. He stepped inside and was instantly met with an auburn haired, office dressed woman.


    On the side of her chest was a tag that read Lana Marchesi.


    She was straightforward looking, sharp-featured, and wearing an elegant black pencil dress. The look on her face exuded the polished confidence of someone who dealt with millionaires daily.


    Darren saw her sized him up in a single glance.


    ''Young. Too young.'' That was her thought. Despite the suit, the watch, the way he carried himself, there was no recognition in her eyes. He was an unknown.


    In Monarch Motors, they greatly prioritized established millionaires and billionaires. So not only did she not know who this young man was, but he seemed too young to be even serious about buying anything.


    She saw these types occasionally. Sons of businessmen, trust fund brats looking to impress. They walked in with big expectations, only to vanish the moment price negotiations began.


    But anyway, she wasn''t paid to judge. So, she flashed a well-practiced smile.


    "Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Monarch Motors. How may I assist you?"


    Darren only gave a solid short glance before replying, "I''m here to buy a car."


    Something flickered in her eyes ¡ª amusement, disbelief, maybe.


    "Of course," she said smoothly. "And what kind of car are you looking for today?"


    Darren reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded list. Without a word, he handed it to her.


    Lana hesitated before taking it from him, unfolding it carefully. Her eyebrows lifted.


    It was a list of cars that appeared to have been written with some careful thought.


    ''Lamborghini Aventador


    Ferrari 458 Italia


    McLaren MP4-12C


    Aston Martin One-77''


    For the first time, her professional mask cracked.


    She looked up at him, the faintest trace of skepticism in her expression. "You''re interested in... all of these?"


    Darren simply nodded. "That''s why you have that note."


    Lana''s smile turned syrupy, like someone indulging a child''s fantasy. "That''s quite the selection, Mr...?"


    "Steele."


    "Mr. Steele," she repeated, as if tasting the name. "Forgive me, but these aren''t exactly... entry-level sports cars. If you''re looking for something a bit more¡ª"


    Darren cut her off. "I didn''t come here for suggestions. I came to drive."


    He slipped one hand into his pocket, the other holding his briefcase. "I was told Monarch Motors had a good variety of beautiful cars, and they would certainly have everything in that list. You do have them, right?"


    Lana nodded affirmatively. "Of course. We at Monarch Motors take great pride in our diversities."


    "Good. I''ll test drive them." Darren demanded.


    She hesitated first then looked up at his eyes. "Will you be paying in cash or by financing, sir?"


    Darren, noticing the bright green of her eyes, looked down at his unpocketed hand. "I brought a briefcase with me."


    There was a pause.


    Her gaze rested at the briefcase first, then she smiled, reassessing. She looked up at him once more.


    The suit, the watch, the absolute lack of hesitation in his tone. Still, she remained skeptical.


    "I''ll need to verify some things first. High-performance vehicles require proof of financial standing before test drives. You understand."


    Darren didn''t blink. "Run it."


    Lana exhaled, tapping the screen of her tablet. "One moment."


    As she worked, Darren''s system continued to drop fun facts about Monarch Motors including one that suggested that Mr Victor Mathis before his death had been great friends with Doctor Leonard Holloway.


    Holloway had also been the one who had handled his surgeries and treatments before death.


    Lana returned a few minutes later with news that the cars were now ready for test drive.


    "Great," Darren nodded. "Let''s start."

 Chapter 41: Aston Martin One-77

    They walked to the driveway garage which was under the building. A dim. chamber-like vast room with white lights at every corner.


    The first car to test drive was the Lamborghini Aventador


    Lana presented the Aventador to him.


    "6.5L V12, 700 horsepower, 0 to 60 in 2.9 seconds. This car is loved by drivers who live for excitement."


    Darren didn''t reply to that. He only placed the briefcase on the wall beside her and slid into the driver''s seat.


    Dim dim.


    The soft music sang. The cabin was tight, cockpit-like. As he turned the ignition, the engine roared¡ª a raw, untamed beast.


    Out on the test track, Darren pushed the car hard. 0-60 mph in 2.9 seconds. Each gear shift slammed like a hammer. He took the corners aggressively, feeling the weight of the AWD system, the brutal grip keeping it stable even at high speeds.


    "Jesus," Lana muttered as she watched him drive and swirl around her.


    "Not bad," he muttered, pulling back into the lot. "But it lacked finesse. Too aggressive," he said once he stepped out.


    Lana was staring at him differently and only snapped out of it when he said, "Next?"


    "Excuse me. Next is the Ferrari 458 Italia"


    She was more attentive now.


    "This one is different. Naturally aspirated, 562 horsepower, but it''s about balance. If the Lambo is a hammer, this is a scalpel."


    Darren didn''t reply once more. He just got in.


    He turned on the engine, and drove.


    Smoother. Lighter. The naturally aspirated V8 sang at 9,000 RPM, a more refined, exhilarating symphony. The balance was perfect, mid-engine layout giving it razor-sharp handling.


    Lana watched him drive, arms crossed over the file on her chest.


    "Better," Darren admitted when he was done. But still not quite right.


    Eyebrows creased, Lana stared at him. You''ve got to be kidding.


    "Most people hesitate in that last corner," she commented. "You didn''t. You''re a very talented driver for your age."


    Darren didn''t respond. ''I''ve been driving for thirteen years. Would be an idiot if I''m not better at it than others my age.''


    The McLaren MP4-12C was next.


    Turbocharged. Lightning-fast shifts. The dual-clutch transmission made every acceleration feel instantaneous. But something was missing¡ªcharacter.


    The McLaren was a clinical machine. Fast, efficient, but soulless.


    Darren exited before the track was finished.


    "Not this one."


    Lana smirked. "You don''t waste time, do you?"


    "The last on the list is the Aston Martin One-77. Don''t worry. If you can''t seem to decide on one from the list, I can suggest others for you."


    Lana hesitated before handing him the keys.


    "This is... different. Handmade, only 77 in existence. If a Rolls-Royce and an F1 car had a child, this would be it."


    Darren stared at the One-77. "Do you know what number it is?"


    She frowned. "What?"


    Darren shot her a look of his blue eyes. "Out of the 77 in existence do you know what number this one is?"


    Taken off by the question, Lana shook her head. "No, I don''t. I''ve nev¡ª"


    "Number 76," he said. "Bought at an auction by Chance Delacroix but never drove it once."


    Lana stared at him.


    "The second to the last one ever made. It''s sold more on reputation than on its properties. And the properties are already pretty impressive."


    Saying nothing more, Darren stepped forward and entered the vehicle, leaving the dealer in a loss for words.


    Once he got in, he hesitated to close the door. Then he turned to her. "Get in."


    She frowned. "Me?"


    "Well, yes."


    Lana blushed. "Ugh. I don''t think that''s appropriate."


    "You wouldn''t want to miss this. And besides, that''s how other dealerships inspect test drives, isn''t it?"


    Lana hesitated for a moment, before smiling. "Okay."


    She scurried on her heels around the car as Darren pulled open the door for her.


    Once she got in, they both closed the doors. Lana looked at him and smiled, Darren simply told her to "Put your seatbelt on."


    She did and he turned it on the car. The deep, controlled growl of the 7.3L V12 sent a shiver down Lana''s spine.


    On the track, it was perfection.


    It had power¡ª 750 horsepower, but it didn''t shout. It commanded.


    Darren drove round and round on the track, completely in sync with the car. Every turn and every acceleration was seamless.


    It had the balance of the Ferrari, the prestige of the Lamborghini, and the sheer elegance of a bespoke grand tourer.


    "Alright. I''m impressed." Lana commented once they got out of the vehicle.


    Darren stepped out. "This is the one."


    Lana gazed at him with a big uncontrollable smile on her face. She even bit her lip.


    "I''m happy you were able to find the one you like. Can we head on to contract agreements?"


    "Yes, please."


    "Come with me."


    They headed on together to the contract office while a worker drove the car out into the front of the building for them.


    "The One-77 is $1.5 million. We offer service packages¡ª"


    "Forget about add-ons."


    Lana narrowed her eyes. "That''s unusual. Most buyers usually prefer add-ons."


    "Let''s assume I''m not most buyers," Darren said, sitting straight on the chair. "Then there''s no reason why I would want features or add-ons."


    A pause.


    "You sound like... you''ve bought a car before," Lana said with a thoughtful tone.


    "I just know how these things work," Darren replied.


    Then, he leaned back. "Your owner just died. The dealership is in limbo. You don''t want to hold onto a $1.5M car while the business is unstable."


    Lana exhaled sharply.


    Darren gave her a calculative gaze. "Why don''t we drop the price by $200k?"


    "Mr Steele. The price cannot be reduced by that much."


    In the end, the price dropped by $200K.


    ---


    As the negotiations were nearing an end, Darren glanced at the vehicle outside the window and said, "I''ll need a mechanic to inspect it before we go any further."


    She hesitated, clearly not expecting this level of diligence from someone his age. "You really don''t trust our quality? We only deal in the best."


    Darren''s gaze was cold, unreadable. "I trust. I verify."


    With a tight-lipped smile, she waved a hand. "Fine, I''ll get someone from the service department."


    A few minutes later, a grizzled mechanic in oil-streaked coveralls approached, wiping his hands on a rag. His name tag read Gus.


    "You the one buying the One-77?" Gus asked, sizing Darren up.


    "That depends on what you find," Darren replied.


    Gus let out a low whistle. "Alright, let''s get to work."


    For the next half-hour, Darren stood by as Gus ran a full diagnostic. He checked the engine, the suspension, the tires, the brakes, and even the electrical systems.


    He listened to the purr of the V12, checked for any irregularities in the transmission, and even hooked up a scanner to check for hidden fault codes.


    Finally, Gus stood up and wiped his hands. "This machine''s a beast. Whoever owned it before took damn good care of it. Barely even used it. No leaks, no hidden damage. It''s just as good as new."


    Darren gave a small nod. "That''s all I needed to hear."


    The salesperson folded her arms, watching him with more interest by the second. "You''re really thorough, huh?"


    Not replying, Darren slipped his free hand into his pocket.


    The paperwork for the contract signing was a thick stack of agreements, covering everything from ownership transfer, dealership warranties, financing terms (which he rejected), and insurance options.


    Darren went through every page, making sure the system analyzed and approved of every.


    The salesperson watched, raising a brow. "You actually read the contracts?"


    Darren gave her a sidelong glance. "Only fools sign blind."


    She let out a short laugh. "I might have underestimated you, Mr. Steele."


    Once he was satisfied, he picked up the briefcase and handed it over. It was then given to a cashier who after counting it affirmed the amount of $1.3 million.


    Lana stared at Darren. This guy came here with the total certainty that he was going to cut down the price to exactly $1.3 million. That''s an unbelievable amount of self confidence.


    Darren signed the contract once again using his mother''s name. He took the keys and as he stood to leave, Lana slid a small piece of paper into his hand.


    "In case you need anything else, Mr. Steele."


    Darren didn''t glance at it but he knew it was a phone number.


    He simply tucked it into his pocket, walked out and got aboard on his brand new Aston Martin One-77

 Chapter 42: Karas Emotions

    Darren''s Aston Martin One-77 purred to a stop in the long, winding driveway of his mansion in Greenbaby.


    The house stood in its usual quiet opulence that early afternoon. A large fountain in the front courtyard bubbled gently, the water shimmering under the golden glow of the sunlight.


    The gravel under his tires crunched softly, and as he cut the engine, silence reclaimed the day.


    Stepping out, he adjusted his suit jacket, running a hand through his neatly styled hair before making his way inside.


    The moment he opened the door and entered, his eyes landed on Kara, comfortably seated on the massive L-shaped couch in the living room, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her laptop.


    The screen''s bluish glow illuminated her sharp, focused expression, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration.


    She sat there comfortably and at ease, legs lazily draped over the armrest, her posture utterly at home as if she''d been living here for years.


    She was dressed casually ¡ª a loose gray sweatshirt, slightly oversized, hanging off one shoulder, showing a large amount of cleavage beneath her tight sleeveless, and black shorts that barely peeked out beneath the hem.


    Her vivid red hair, always somewhat messy, was tied into a lazy bun, though strands still rebelliously fell around her face. Her bare feet tapped absentmindedly against the couch as she typed.


    Darren tossed his keys onto the side table, the light clink breaking the silence.


    "Are you always on that stuff?" he asked dryly, slipping off his coat.


    Kara barely glanced up, pausing only to stretch her fingers before resuming her rapid typing. "Some of us have work to do, Mr. Duckling."


    "I see. Work."


    Kars suddenly stopped. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she thought of something.


    "...Wait." She looked up, her keen eyes narrowing slightly. "What was that noise before you came in?"


    Darren hung his coat neatly on the dark wooden hanger by the entrance, saying nothing to her.


    Kara''s frown deepened as she tilted her head. "Didn''t sound like an ordinary taxi." Her sharp gaze locked onto him. "You didn''t use a taxi today, huh?"


    Then she noticed the way he was acting, that look on his face.


    Her eyes widened. "...No way."


    Darren looked at her for a moment but still said nothing, only stepping past her toward the water dispenser. He pressed the button on the machine, filling a glass with crisp, cool water.


    Kara stared at him, wondering if her speculation was right. "No effing way. I''m gonna take a look."


    She hurried to the door and flung it open. The moment she did, she gasped audibly at the sight parked just beside the fountain.


    She saw the car. The Aston Martin One-77.


    The sun was glowing on its sleek, sculpted frame. The car''s low, aggressive stance, the way the curves flowed seamlessly into sharp aerodynamic edges.


    Gosh, it was nothing short of automotive perfection.


    Kara practically tripped over herself as she scurried outside, eyes wide, lips parted in sheer disbelief.


    "No. Fucking. Way."


    She spun around to face the house, speaking to Darren who was still inside, calmly sipping his water.


    "Mr. Duckling, ARE YOU INSANE?!" she shrieked, flailing an arm toward the car. "This... THIS IS AN ASTON MARTIN ONE-77! There are literally only seventy-seven of these things IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!"


    She turned back to the car, her breath almost hitching in admiration. "What the fuck! How rich are you, really? Come on, tell me! Because... Fuck! This isn''t just any car, this is like the automotive equivalent of Michelangelo sculpting David while high on divine inspiration."


    Kara ran her fingers along the pristine body, her face contorted in pure ecstasy.


    "Sweet mother of torque, look at this thing," she whispered, crouching down to admire the massive carbon-ceramic brakes. "Even the damn rims look like they belong in an art museum."


    Darren sighed from inside. "Get back in here, Kara."


    "NO. I''M MOVING INTO THE CAR NOW. This house? Useless. That couch? Trash. This car? My new home."


    "Kara."


    She huffed, but eventually scurried back inside, grinning like an absolute idiot.


    "You seem to be into cars," Darren said, looking at her once she got in.


    "What can I say? I''m a lady. Ladies love cars."


    As she flopped onto the couch again, Darren pulled something from his jacket pocket ¡ª a thick stack of crisp bills.


    He held it out toward her.


    "Go to the boutique tomorrow and buy yourself some nice clothes. A fancy dress as well." His tone was matter-of-fact, but firm. "We''re going out in two days. The Red Fang loan repayment."


    Kara stared at the cash.


    She didn''t move for a moment. Just... looked at it.


    Then, before Darren could react, she stepped forward and wrapped both arms around him in a hug.


    What was surprising was that this wasn''t her usual playful, sarcastic hug. Not one of her usual over-the-top antics. Or a seduction tactic.


    It was a real, quiet hug.


    Darren froze for a second. He looked down at her, her face pressed lightly against his chest, her breathing steady, warm.


    "Hey, are you okay?" he asked.


    She just held onto him. Longer than expected.


    Her voice was muffled against his suit. "Thank you, okay?"


    She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "It''s kinda funny, but... you''re the only person who''s ever done something nice for me."


    For the first time, Darren really looked at her.


    He noticed how very crimson and beautiful her eyes were. Though not as crimson as her hair, framing her delicate features, and for a brief second, something flickered in his chest.


    But he pushed it down.


    He straightened his posture. "It''s fine."


    Shaking off whatever lingered, he cleared his throat. "Hey. By the way, have you been here all day? Did you even eat?"


    Kara shrugged. "I ate some apples from the fridge. Gladys wouldn''t cook anything."


    A pause.


    Nearby, the elderly housekeeper, who had been vacuuming the hall, suddenly stopped. She turned and looked at them.


    They were all silent.


    Kara looked at Gladys and then at Darren. "What?"


    Darren exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Kara... Gladys is a housekeeper. Not a maid. She doesn''t cook for me, or for you."


    Kara''s eyes widened slightly. "Oh."


    She immediately turned to Gladys. "I''m really sorry for assuming that."


    The old woman simply gave a nod. "It''s fine."


    Darren gestured toward the cash still in Kara''s hands. "I''m sure you can get yourself something to eat with that too." Then, in a firmer voice, he said, "Be back quick. We need to go over the plan tonight and practice tomorrow."


    Kara nodded. "Okay."


    Giving her one final look, Darren closed his eyes then turned and walked down the hallway, disappearing into his room.


    Left alone, Kara turned toward Gladys.


    Checking if Darren was fully out of sight, she stuck out her tongue at the old woman.


    Gladys simply squinted, then made a face back at her.


    Kara grimaced. Then, just to be extra, she pulled down one eyelid and wiggled her fingers near her face.


    Gladys pointed a finger at her in mock warning.


    Kara retaliated by fanning the cash in her hands, flipping her red hair over her shoulder, and prancing away sassily.


    Gladys sighed. "Lord help that girl."

 Chapter 43: Casino Party

    Since Los Alverez was a city of parties and wealth, there were many options for him to choose from where many people were present.


    One of such options was the reopening of Golden Hay Casino.


    Darren pulled up to the grand entrance of the newly reopened casino club with his new car. Even though the Aston Martin outshined many in the parking lot, there were still multiple stunning vehicles for his eyes to feast on.


    Nevertheless, the more catching sight was the flurry of activity.


    Valets in crisp uniforms hurried to assist guests, while photographers snapped pictures of the affluent attendees.


    The casino, once owned by the late Albert Hayes, had been meticulously refurbished by his son, Grant Hayes, and today marked its grand reopening.


    It was a day party, but this was because this part of the celebration was open to everyone wealthy enough to be aware of it.


    Later that night, the exclusive party would begin where all important and invited guests were allowed in.


    When his door was opened, Darren stepped out first, adjusting his tailored suit¡ª a deep navy ensemble that had been surprisingly selected by Kara, sophisticated and gallant.


    He extended a hand to her when her door was opened. Kara accepted it gracefully, albeit with a hint of reluctance.


    Her dress, a floor-length emerald gown, hugged her figure perfectly, contrasting beautifully with her fiery red hair. Despite her discomfort, she moved with as much elegance as she could, drawing appreciative glances from onlookers.


    Darren gave her sideways glance, noting how beautiful she looked in a dress.


    She caught him. "Were you looking at me?" she asked.


    "I wasn''t."


    "Ha! You totally were," she chuckled. "I didn''t know you had a thing for posh girls. But don''t get too used to seeing me like this. I feel like a peacock in this getup."


    Darren hid his smile and they ascended the marble steps, Kara leaned in and whispered, "These heels are instruments of torture, Mr. Duckling."


    Darren kept a straight face. "Just try to be composed. We don''t want to look like amateurs in this place."


    They entered the casino, a dazzling display of luxury and opulence.


    Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors.


    There were elegant tables lined the expansive room, and on each of them were adornments with plush seating and attended by impeccably dressed dealers.


    In the air was an absolute presence of quiet, warm music, with the soft hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the clinking of glasses.


    Darren''s gaze sharpened as the Investor System activated, providing him with a detailed analysis of the establishment:


    --------------------


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Golden Hay Casino Club is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Net Worth: $350 million©¿


    ©³Primary Income: High-stakes gambling, luxury accommodations, exclusive events, fine dining©¿


    ©³Owner: Grant Hayes©¿


    ©³Known for: Extravagant interiors, elite clientele, premier gaming experiences, top-tier security measures©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡î¡î (before reopening)©¿


    ©³Tactics: Aggressive marketing to high-net-worth individuals, partnerships with luxury brands, hosting exclusive events to attract elite guests©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: Potential for high-yield collaborations. Approach with strategic proposals to align with their luxury brand.©¿


    -------------------------


    ''Collaborations?'' Darren thought. ''System? You want me to get a casino club as an ally?''


    ©³Ally potential is favorable considering Grant Hayes is new to the business world©¿


    ''I see. I''ll keep that in mind.''


    Kara''s eyes darted around, taking in the grandeur.


    "This place is like a palace. I half-expect to see royalty lounging around." Kara''s voice dragged him from his thoughts.


    "Kara," Darren murmured, "you have to do something to make yourself seen. Involve in an activity. Mingle. We need to establish a solid alibi for what we''re about to do. So people needed to see us."


    She nodded, her playful demeanor returning. "Got it. Time to make some waves." Her gaze landed on a poker table surrounded by animated guests. "I think I''ll try my luck over there. Always did love a good gamble."


    "Good. There are lots of people there." He looked down and saw her open palm, waiting for him to drop some money on it.


    Darren sighed, took out some cash from his pocket and handed her two thousand.


    "Just don''t lose my house," Darren quipped.


    Kara winked. "No promises, Mr. Duckling"


    With that, she sauntered over to the poker table, immediately drawing attention with her vivacious energy.


    Darren watched her for a moment before chasing away the look in his eyes, and locking in with a more emotionless expression, then moving deeper into the casino.


    He accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter, the rich aroma hinting at notes of blackberry and oak.


    As he sipped, his attention was drawn to a group of men seated around a circular table, engaged in a game that piqued his interest.


    Taking a closer look, Darren recognized the game. It was "Corporate Conquest," a board and card game that involved players making strategic decisions for a hypothetical company, betting on moves that would either elevate or diminish its success in the city''s financial market.


    Each round, the player whose strategies led to the highest profit margins would claim the pot.


    Darren got closer, watching them as they played. He started to circle the table, sipping his wine and observing the dynamics.


    Then, a ding came and the Investor System supplied information through purple interfaces that appeared beside each of the men:


    The first was Charles Nelson: A Share Owner of Nelson Worldwide, a chain of hotels, banks and minor groups renowned for its luxury accommodations and impeccable service.


    The next was Jaxon Daniels: A master in import and export, representing D&D Exports, a company with vast international reach.


    The one with very long hair was Gillian Henderson: Proprietor of multiple party clubs and casinos, a prominent figure in the city''s nightlife scene.


    Then the last, a blond, young looking man, Grant Hayes: The host for the evening, having inherited the Golden Hay Empire from his late father, Albert Hayes.


    Darren continued to watch as the game continued, listening to the men discuss and laugh until the current round concluded with Jaxon Daniels claiming victory.


    "Give me all that pot!" he chuckled, claiming his prize.


    Darren seized the moment and stepped forward. "Mind if I join you gentlemen?" he inquired, his tone polite yet confident.


    Everyone lifted their gaze to the handsome, blue-eyed man in suit before them.


    Gillian Henderson chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You think you can keep up with the big boys?"


    Darren met his gaze steadily. "I''m just curious," he said, keeping his tone casual but assured.


    The men exchanged glances, weighing the proposal. They had no idea who this man was, why should they just let him in?


    "You know what?" Gillian spoke. "As long as he has the money to gamble, let''s see what he can do."


    Grant Hayes arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Gillian?" he asked.


    Gillian leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, I''m sure, Grant. Let the new kid play. There''s even a spare seat."


    Darren pulled out the chair smoothly and took a seat. "Thank you," he said, placing his wine glass down beside him.


    He could feel Jaxon Daniels staring at him intensely with narrowed eyes, as though he was trying to place his face.


    ''Hmm...'' Darren thought. ''He doesn''t recognize me, does he?''

 Chapter 44: Corporate Conquest

    The polished mahogany table gleamed under the golden light of the casino''s chandeliers.


    The centerpiece of the table was a miniature, silver-plated skyscraper, it was the "company" they would be managing throughout the game.


    Around it sat the players ¡ª one of the wealthiest of the wealthy''s in Los Alverez, their faces reflecting varying degrees of confidence, skepticism, and amusement.


    Darren adjusted his cufflinks, keeping an unreadable expression as he withdrew a neat stack of crisp bills through the attending waiter.


    With a subtle flick, he slid the money forward onto the table, joining the buy-in. Across from him, Jaxon Daniels stared at him while shuffling his own stack of bills, flipping through them with a casual air.


    "Alright, gentlemen," Gillian Henderson said, leaning back in his chair. "You all know the rules, but since we''ve got a fresh face here, let''s run through it again."


    The Rules of the Game;


    Each player received ten identical decision cards, each listing key business strategies ¡ª Market Expansion, Cost Cutting, Mergers & Acquisitions, Debt Financing, Asset Liquidation, Employee Layoffs, Branding & Advertising, Stock Buyback, Venture Capital Investment, and R&D Innovation.


    Every round, players would pick a card in secret and place it face down. Once everyone locked in their choice, all cards would be revealed at the same time.


    The combined choices of the players determined how the "company" fared that round ¡ª whether its stock value rose or plummeted.


    At the end of each round, a gamble took place.


    The players would bet on the projected valuation of the company at that stage. The one whose prediction was closest to the system-generated result won the bets of the others.


    At the end of ten rounds, whoever accumulated the most wealth, being cash and shares, was the victor.


    Gillian Henderson leaned forward, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, kid. Let''s see if you can keep up."


    Jaxon decided to speak out. "Don''t I know you from somewhere?" he asked Darren.


    Darren looked at him and replied. "I don''t know you from anywhere."


    Jaxon smirked. "Alright. This is going to be fun."


    Grant looked at them both.


    The game begun.


    The dealer rang the brass bell, signaling the first round.


    Darren studied the cards in his hands. The others were watching him carefully, though they tried to appear disinterested. He let his fingers brush over the options.


    What would they choose first?


    Market Expansion was a safe opening move. It indicated confidence, the desire to push growth immediately. A predictable first play.


    He flipped the card onto the table, face down. The others did the same.


    "Reveal," the dealer said.


    The cards turned over simultaneously.


    Three Market Expansions. One Branding & Advertising. One R&D Innovation.


    The result flashed on the screen embedded in the table:


    Stock Valuation: +4% Increase


    Jaxon chuckled. "Alright, alright, playing it safe, huh?"


    The gamble phase began. The players wagered on the new company valuation, estimating the upcoming trends.


    Darren underbet, purposefully letting the round slip by. He observed how the others placed their bets, for example; Jaxon was aggressive Jaxon, Charles was quiet and methodical, Gillian overestimated the company''s early growth.


    In the end, Jaxon won the round''s gamble.


    He grinned as the dealer pushed a stack of bills toward him. "Hey, new guy, you hesitated there. You nervous?"


    Darren remained silent, his eyes already scanning the board for the next move.


    In Round Two, Charles took home the victory, and the next round began.


    The table grew more competitive now.


    Jaxon remained aggressive, riding his early winnings. Charles played it safer since that was working for him. Gillian''s cocky attitude began showing in his reckless bets as he started to get frustrated after no wins.


    Darren lost another small sum, keeping his bets and choices balanced, ensuring he wasn''t standing out... yet.


    Then, in Round Four, he made his first strike.


    The choices flipped over.


    Darren played Debt Financing.


    Only Charles had done the same.


    The others had gone for Market Expansion again. Grant, who wanted to go for Debt Financing had changed his mind because of Gillian.


    The table''s valuation flashed.


    Stock Valuation: -8% Decline


    "What?" Gillian snapped.


    Darren sipped his wine, his voice calm. "I think you lack simple risk assessment. Don''t you see if you expand too much without securing finances the e company''s liquidity gets strangled. You should''ve refinanced debt first."


    Charles looked at Darren and let out a low chuckle. "Not bad, kid."


    Gillian appeared insulted, he glared at Charles.


    "What? I was thinking the same thing," Charles shrugged.


    Jaxon raised an eyebrow, intrigued.


    The gambling phase began. Darren placed a calculated bet, and this time, he won.


    Gillian cursed under his breath. "Beginner''s luck."


    Darren said nothing.


    From round six to eight, the game intensified.


    Men were the same. Always.


    No matter the age.


    Men in the same fields always came together to compete amongst themselves whilst having fun. That was what''s going on here. But there''s the gamble part because everyone loves when money is on the line.


    For Gillian, he let his pride make him overplay his hands. Jaxon tried to adapt but found himself constantly a step behind. Grant Hayes couldn''t make up his mind on anything, clearly he didn''t know much about managing a giant business.


    Which led Darren to wonder how he would manage the enormous Golden Hay Empire.


    He understood more and more why the system wanted him to get him as an Ally.


    Meanwhile, in the game, Darren began dominating.


    He predicted every move perfectly, playing R&D Innovation at the exact moment others shifted to Cost Cutting, forcing them into reactive plays.


    He placed an Asset Liquidation card at the perfect moment, devaluing the company for one round before playing Stock Buyback the next, restoring the valuation while securing control.


    Each round, his wealth increased.


    By round nine, the others looked frustrated.


    And at round ten, he struck the Final Move


    By now, Darren had amassed the most wealth at the table. The others were trying to salvage their losses.


    For the final round, he played Venture Capital Investment while they attempted desperate Branding & Advertising plays to keep the company afloat.


    The valuation flashed:


    Stock Valuation: +15% Increase


    Silence.


    The dealer distributed the final winnings.


    "Hold on. What the hell just happened how?" Gillian realized that he had no money in front of him, he''d lost everything.


    And so had Jaxon, Charles and Grant.


    "He outplayed us completely," Charles said. "Gotta hand it to him. Kid must be a genius in business."


    Gillian clenched his jaw. He couldn''t even accuse Darren of cheating as that wasn''t possible in a game like this where only knowledge was tested.


    He realized all of it now.


    Darren''s initial losses had been bait. Every play had been methodical. Every loss, a calculated investment in appearing weaker before striking.


    The final total appeared on the screen:


    Winner: Guest ¡ª $1.6 million in cash and shares.


    Jaxon exhaled through his nose. "Damn."


    Gillian scowled. "You''ve got to be kidding me. Hey! Tell us your name."


    Grant, who had been staring at Darren in awe, leaned in as well.


    "I am also curious. Please, who are you?" he asked.


    Darren would have loved to answer Grant separately, but he checked his watch and saw he didn''t have time.


    "It was nice playing with you gentlemen. I hope we''ll do this again."


    He gestured to the waiter, who placed a briefcase on the table and neatly packed the bills inside.


    With an effortless motion, Darren stood, closed the case, and turned. He walked passed Charles, brushing him and tapping him on the shoulder as though apologizing.


    Grant hesitated, then pushed back his chair to follow.


    Meanwhile, across the room¡ª


    "Thank you all for playing! Now if I''ll just¡ª"


    Kara, grinning like a fox, swept the pile of casino chips from the table into her bag. The players around her looked devastated.


    Darren reached her just as she was stuffing the last chips in. "We''re leaving."


    Kara blinked. "Wait, let me¡ª"


    "No. Now."


    She clutched the bag to her chest like it was her firstborn child. "Fine, fine, but damn, I''m rich! Thank you all. I so love taking other people''s money!"


    As they exited, Grant tried to catch up, but by the time he reached the doors, they had enter the car and disappeared into the streets.


    He turned to the guards. "Do you know what that guy was? Is he coming to the exclusive party tonight?"


    The guards exchanged glances. "No, sir. We don''t have him on the guest list."


    Grant frowned.


    ''Who was that man?''

 Chapter 45: Loan Repayment (1)

    Darren drove through the city streets, his gaze locked in determination and focus.


    The tires rolled over the wet pavement, a faint slickness from the very early morning drizzle making the roads shine under the sun.


    Kara, in the passenger seat, had her feet propped up on the dashboard, lazily twirling one of her chips between her fingers.


    Darren looked at her. "Kara, set up your laptop and the access to the Red Fang bank accounts."


    She exhaled a quiet sigh before sitting up right.


    "Alright, alright, Mr. Duckling. Setting up the laptop now," she said, flipping open her sleek device and tapping away.


    Darren, eyes on the road, barely reacted.


    "Good. Do you think they would have noticed your presence by now and locked you off it?"


    She scoffed. "The only person who''s ever done that is you, and I still have some questions as to how you did it, dear Mr. Duckling."


    "Not that I''m gonna answer any." Darren cut a corner.


    Kara smirked, arriving at the interface in her computer. "By the way, I never told you this before, but uh... there''s a whole lotta money in here."


    Darren didn''t miss a beat. "I know," he said simply. "That''s why the Red Fang wouldn''t want to lose it."


    Kara gave an exaggerated whistle. "Damn. You really don''t flinch, do you? If I had that much money in my sights, I''d be sweating bullets right now."


    "I don''t believe that."


    Kara chuckled, shaking her head as she continued typing.


    The Aston Martin finally slowed as Darren turned into a darker, quieter part of the city.


    He eased into a narrow alley just off Crane Street, parking between two abandoned buildings with boarded-up windows.


    This place was somehow darker because of the abandoned high buildings, only the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp was the main source of light apart from the poor sunlight seeping through roofs.


    Darren unbuckled his seatbelt, reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of black gloves, slipping them on without a word.


    Kara watched him with growing suspicion. "Okay, what''s with the gloves? This is starting to feel real criminally all of a sudden."


    Darren ignored her as he opened a compartment under the dashboard, retrieving a sleek, black Glock.


    Kara''s eyes went wide. "Woah! Woah! Woah! What the hell, Mr. Duckling?"


    Darren calmly slid the gun into his coat pocket.


    "What are you planning to do?" she asked, voice half-wary, half-curious. "No one is getting killed here, right? Right?"


    "I''m not using the gun for anything," Darren said evenly. "It''s just part of the plan."


    "Hah? That''s what they all say before things go sideways." Kara leaned back, folding her arms. "Just tell me I''m not going to die today. And that I''m still getting my twenty grand."


    "You''re not going to die today, Kara. And you''re still getting your twenty grand."


    She sat up and smiled. "You actually said it."


    Sighing, Darren opened the door. "Once I activate the router and you get full access to the account to tamper as you please, that''s the sign that you should begin."


    "Alright, alright. Just... be careful, yeah?"


    Darren didn''t respond. He stepped out, briefcase in hand, and walked down the dark, ominous alleyway.


    Arriving at the heavy metal door, he knocked once and saw the familiar, beady eyes peering through the gap.


    "Password," the security man grunted.


    Then, his face changed. Recognition dawned.


    "Huh. You again."


    Darren said nothing.


    The guard let out a low grunt before pushing the door open. His gaze dropped to the briefcase in Darren''s hand.


    "Right on date, huh? You here to pay?"


    Darren nodded. "I am."


    Hmmm, the man mumbled. He took the case from Darren to inspect, flipping it open to reveal neatly stacked bundles of cash.


    His brows lifted in mild approval. Hmm.


    But before stepping aside, the guard ran his hands over Darren''s torso, patting him down and then searched him extensively.


    His fingers halted when they reached the gun in Darren''s coat. He pulled it out, gripping it tightly.


    Darren''s eyes took note of the way his fingers curled around the handle. Seemingly satisfied, he looked away.


    The guard clicked his tongue. "You won''t be needing this."


    Darren didn''t resist as the man took the Glock.


    Satisfied, the guard nodded toward the hallway. "Come on in."


    Darren followed him inside, past the murky, smoke-filled club where the air was thick with cheap perfume, alcohol, and the unmistakable scent of illegal deals.


    The scantily clad women sauntered between groups of wealthy men, their laughter sharp and artificial. The bass-heavy music pounded in the background, a steady, unrelenting thrum.


    Darren barely spared it a glance. He had only one destination.


    The office.


    Inside, seated behind a desk cluttered with whiskey glasses and cigar ash, was the man he had met before.


    Broad-shouldered, middle-aged, a skull tattoo on his face, and dressed in a dark burgundy rugged suit.


    He grinned upon seeing Darren, showing his golden teeth.


    "Ah, welcome back, office boy." His voice dripped with amusement. Then he took a good look at him. "Hell, what happened to you? You lookin'' kinda different. Almost didn''t recognize you."


    "Same here, boss," the security guard added, smirking. "Must have started takin'' those online red pill routines."


    The two men chuckled.


    Darren remained expressionless.


    The boss leaned forward, scrutinizing him. "So I hear you got my money."


    Darren set the briefcase down. "It''s all in there."


    The boss didn''t open it immediately. Instead, he studied Darren a moment longer, eyes filled with something between curiosity and suspicion.


    "You telling me," he said slowly, "that you managed to pay off $270,000 in one month? That''s the first time that''s happened, you know. Especially for a kid."


    Darren didn''t respond.


    The boss smirked, gesturing toward his men. "Take it inside and count."


    Darren finally spoke, his voice cool and collected. "They can count it here."


    The room tensed, everyone paused.


    The boss''s expression darkened. "What''d you just say, boy?"


    Darren didn''t flinch when he met his gaze. "I said they can count it here. Why not? Here''s fine."


    The boss leaned back, exhaling sharply through his nose. Then, his lips curled in amusement.


    "Oh. So you think you''re tough now, huh?" He gestured at Darren''s outfit. "Come in here with a fine suit, a fine watch... even saw that fine-ass Aston Martin parked outside. Big car for a small kid."


    His smirk faded. "Now, I don''t know what kinda business you got goin'' on... but I sure am curious. Ain''t nobody gets this fresh in one month without doin'' something illegal."


    He snapped his fingers. "Go ahead and count the money, boys. Tell me how much."


    Darren watched them go inside. He didn''t move.


    Minutes later, they returned. The lead henchman looked uneasy.


    "It''s only $80,000," he said.


    The boss''s brow twitched. "Only 80k?" He let out a short laugh, then turned back to Darren. "Where''s the rest of it, office boy? 80k is only the interest. Where''s the 200k?"


    Darren didn''t react. Obviously, he''d expected this. "The money is all there. Everything. The 280k."


    Silence.


    The boss narrowed his eyes. "So you''re calling my boys liars?" His voice was dangerously low.


    He then raised it. "No. You''re calling me a liar!"


    Then, in an instant, he pulled out a gun and leveled it at Darren.


    A series of clicks followed, every henchman in the room aimed their weapons at him.


    Darren slowly raised his hands.


    The boss sneered. "Get me the rest of my money, office boy."


    Darren let out a sigh. "I knew it would come to this."

 Chapter 46: Loan Repayment (2)

    The silence in the room stretched, thick with tension, as Darren stared down the man across the desk.


    The boss''s face twisted in fury, his fingers curling tighter around the pistol aimed at Darren''s chest.


    "What the hell are you talking about?!" the boss snarled, spittle flying as he bared his teeth.


    Darren''s lips curled in disdain. He leaned slightly forward, gaze unwavering. "Desperate people are easy targets. That''s what you said isn''t it"


    The room stilled. The men standing at the edges shifted uncomfortably, their fingers twitching over their weapons.


    "People just trying to escape their debts. Save their homes. Feed their families," Darren continued. "Of course, some of them brought it on themselves. Some made bad, selfish choices that led to their predicament. But that doesn''t give you the right to exploit them so heartlessly."


    "Shut your mouth." One of the henchmen yelled.


    The boss stepped closer, his voice sharp, his stance aggressive. "Hand over the rest of the money."


    Darren didn''t appear moved at all.


    "Look at you. You know you have the money, but you still can''t let me go. You can''t stand the idea that I slipped out of your grip, that I didn''t end up broken like you expected."


    He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I know what you were planning. The moment I took that loan, you didn''t see me as a debtor, you saw me as product. Fresh, young, healthy."


    Darren''s gaze darkened. "In fact, I''m sure you looked at me, admiring my liver, my kidneys, my heart. All perfectly intact. Would fetch you a fortune in the black market."


    The boss''s eye twitched. One of the men swore under his breath.


    "This moron''s still talking," another henchman spat, pulling back the hammer of his gun.


    "I''m gonna give you one more chance. Pay what you owe before I unload bullets into you." the boss warned


    Darren''s mouth quirked. "Would you really?" he mused. "You''d want to keep the organs intact, right?" His voice dropped, goading. "Are you that good of a shot to hurt me without hitting a... very.... important... expensive organ."


    The room tensed. The air thickened with unspoken unease. The boss''s nostrils flared as his grip tightened around the pistol, but he didn''t pull the trigger.


    Darren let the silence stretch before speaking again. "Even if I was to give you the rest of the money, you''re never going to let me go. You''d want more.I mean a rich kid under your thumb would be awesome for business."


    His eyes gleamed coldly. "Which is why I can''t just simply let this go by paying you what you are asking for."


    The boss''s eyes flickered dangerously. He nodded slightly, and in an instant, one of his men stepped forward and drove a fist into Darren''s jaw.


    Pain exploded across his face as his head snapped sideways.


    Darren grunted but slowly turned his face back forward, licking his split lip. Even though it hurt, his voice remained indifferent.


    "I''ll let that slide as a warning," he muttered. Then in his mind, he commanded the system;


    ''System. Act as a router and activate connection with the laptop near the couch.''


    A low hum filled his ears. The system obeyed.


    ©³Establishing network link... Connection secured. Router mode active.©¿


    In the car outside, Kara''s eyes widened as her screen flickered. "He actually did it," she muttered.


    She tapped a few keys, and suddenly, a new screen opened. A live transaction feed. Her brows shot up as she saw the Red Fang''s total balance: $59.2 million, completely accessible to her to use as she wished.


    Kara cracked her fingers. "Alright, let''s start siphoning..." She set the withdrawal speed to 5% per interval and hit enter.


    Back in the office, Darren wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "But I won''t let it slide next time," he said.


    The boss''s expression twisted into a sneer. He pulled the slide back on his gun, the distinct click-clack filling the room.


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "Not even the least bit curious, huh? Well, I''ll tell you anyway. But first, take a look at your laptop."


    One of the henchmen hesitated before stepping forward. He tapped a key, and his face instantly drained of color.


    "Uh... boss...?"


    The others moved closer, and as they looked, panic flickered across their features.


    "What? What is it?" the boss snapped.


    "The account. Boss, it''s being drained. Right now. Money''s disappearing by the second. It''s encrypted, we can''t stop it!"


    The boss''s face contorted in shock. His head snapped toward Darren, who remained utterly calm, no expression on his face.


    "What the hell are you doing?!"


    Darren tilted his head. "Me? I''m not doing anything. Your entire profit is drained by an unstoppable and encrypted outside interference."


    "What?! What did you bring in here?" he demanded. He turned to the security guard. "You searched him , didn''t you?"


    "I did. He had nothing."


    The boss turned back to Darren, his hands shaking with rage. "Are you with the cops?"


    Darren exhaled sharply. "That''s a dumb question. Cops wouldn''t steal money from criminals." His voice dropped to a murmur. "I''m taking it... for myself."


    A hushed silence fell.


    Darren leaned back, unfazed. "You see, I am the router. The longer I stand here, the more money gets siphoned out. You can kill me if you want... but that won''t stop it."


    One of the henchmen stammered, staring at the screen. "Boss... it''s already down 5%!"


    The boss stiffened.


    "That''s 3 million dollars gone," Darren said coolly. He sighed, shaking his head. "Shankz won''t be happy about that."


    The boss''s fingers twitched. His mouth opened, then closed.


    Darren studied him. "Oh yeah... I know you''re not the top dog. Rodriguez Tevez is. And last I checked, he''s still in Spain, hiding because the cops are sniffing around his operations. What do you think he''s gonna say when he finds out all his sustenance money is gone?"


    The boss''s expression twisted with fury.


    "Sir... 85% left!" the henchman called out again.


    The boss swore under his breath. His finger hovered over the trigger. Then ¡ª furious, humiliated ¡ª he turned the gun toward Darren''s leg.


    Darren''s voice remained even. "If I get wounded, the withdrawal rate jumps to 50%." He tilted his head. "Actually... it''s probably already increased to 10% by now."


    The henchman paled. "Sir¡ª 70% remaining!"


    The boss clenched his teeth. His whole body trembled with frustration.


    "Get him out of here," he barked. "Now!"


    Darren stayed still. "My gun and ID card."


    The boss''s jaw ticked. But he nodded, and his men reluctantly returned the items.


    Darren smoothly adjusted his coat, taking one last look at the boss before he was escorted out, ignoring the stares from the club''s patrons.


    They hurriedly led him out of the premises and into the alley. Even though his heart was pounding, Darren''s face remained unreadable.


    The moment he was free, and the door was closed.


    Bam! Darren exploded into his heels, running to his car. Unlocking it, he threw himself inside.


    Kara turned, eyes wild. "What is it?! What the hell is happening?!"


    "Cancel the connection," Darren ordered. "Do it now!"


    "Don''t hurry me!"


    She frantically shut it down.


    "Someone''s coming!" she shrieked.


    Through the mirror, Darren spotted a henchman sprinting toward them. Without hesitation, he gunned the engine, tires screeching as the Aston Martin peeled out.


    Kara screamed, gripping the dashboard. "You are insane! Tell me the truth, are you a spy?!"


    "A spy?!"


    "I''m asking, is there some James Bond going on in this shit!" Kara yelled out loud as bullets shot out of the henchman''s gun.


    Darren didn''t respond. He drove faster, hitting a switch that made his car''s plates to be covered by a black cloth.


    Behind them, the henchman stopped, panting hard.

 Chapter 47: Masterstroke

    Darren drove through the city as calmly as he could, not letting the adrenaline from the situation fuel his drive.


    Once he got close to a street, without hesitation, he pulled out the Glock from his coat pocket and tossed it into a waste bin on the street corner.


    Kara frowned. "Why the hell did you just do that?"


    "Because that gun was just used in a bank robbery," Darren said, his voice calm, eyes still on the road.


    Kara made a face. "What the hell are you talking about?"


    Darren didn''t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a cheap burner phone. Flipping it open, he dialed.


    "Hello, 911? I''m calling in regards to the robbery in Nelson Bank that just happened an hour ago? Yes, I think I just saw two robbers in ski masks matching the description of what was said on the news."


    He spoke with just the right amount of urgency to sound believable.


    "One of them dumped his gun into the waste bin on the corner street before the main road after leaving Crane Street. Yes. I didn''t see much. That''s all I have to say."


    He ended the call, shut the phone, removed the battery, and flung it into the compartment.


    Kara stared at him in disbelief. "Did you just make all that up?"


    "Yes."


    She continued staring at him as they rode away.


    Just as they reached the main road, police sirens filled the air. Multiple cop cars rushed past them, heading in the direction they had just come from.


    Darren took a deep breath. So far, his plan was working perfectly as schemed.


    Over the night, when he had brought Kara into the house in Greenbaby, he had thought deeply about it.


    During his old life, he knew that loan sharks were one of the worst people on the planet. They couldn''t be trusted.


    The Red Fang wasn''t any different, so he needed to be prepared. He needed a way to ensure he left that place without being harmed, exploited, or forced to be incriminated as an ally to their evil acts.


    So, he came up with the idea.


    He knew that people who did evil things for money cherished nothing more than that money itself. That was his leverage ¡ª something to exchange his freedom for.


    But to get them out of his life permanently?


    That was the real challenge.


    They were relentless. Unforgiving. They wouldn''t stop hunting him as long as they knew he had money and had crossed them.


    Since he couldn''t go full John Wick and murder all of them, he had to find a way to get them all arrested.


    And with the Red Fang being high on the FBI''s Most Wanted list because of their activities, he knew that once they were caught, they were never coming back.


    But how was he going to do it?


    These people were extremely careful. They operated in the shadows.


    The idea that came to mind was to attach them to a crime that was going to occur. That way, they''d be brought into the police''s eyes once again.


    But the Investor System didn''t give Darren information on crimes to occur soon.


    It wasn''t a superhero system.


    So, he had to tweak it. He first told his system to search for companies that would suffer losses due to criminal activities in the coming days.


    He found out that Nelson Bank would suffer a serious robbery in just a few days.


    Who was the CEO of Nelson Bank? Charles Nelson. Son of Charleston Nelson.


    The same Charles he''d just played against at the casino opening party.


    Darren chose there as an alibi to kill two birds with one stone. He had placed a bullet casing on Charles Nelson, who would get shot in the leg that day.


    Darren stuck it on Nelson''s heavy coat, which could hold things because of the material.


    The same gun that had the bullet with that casing was the one Darren took with him, knowing the security would search him, find the gun, and smear his fingerprints all over it.


    Which was why Darren had worn gloves. He was safe.


    After retrieving the gun when he was leaving, he tossed it into the bin and told the cops it was there.


    Now, it was all up to law enforcement.


    ----


    Ring, Ring!


    In the waste bin, multiple cop cars gathered around. The officers found the gun.


    "Hey! Over here!"


    A cop retrieved it from the waste bin, carefully placing it in an evidence bag.


    "Bag it and send it in for prints."


    ------


    At the station, inside the forensics lab, a group of detectives hovered over a monitor, waiting for results.


    One of them leaned in as the system beeped.


    Once the results came, it was sent to the cops.


    "His name is Tyrese Odunese. Keep an eye out for Tyrese Odunese. Also known as Steelhead. A known member of the Red Fang Association. Extremely tall, muscular, black and has a scar across his nose."


    An agent sucked in a sharp breath. "He''s on the FBI''s Most Wanted list."


    "Search the entire area!" the lead detective barked. "If this is what I think it is, we''re taking down a big fish today, boys!"


    ---


    Of course, the real thieves would be caught soon, and Steelhead wouldn''t be charged for that particular robbery.


    But that didn''t matter.


    The Red Fang were getting charged for something much worse. They all would be going down forever, for all their crimes against humanity.


    For doing pure evil things in the search of money.


    For taking advantage of people like him.


    People who were just searching for help.


    Darren clenched his fists.


    He understood that hustling was necessary. But no amount of money was worth the life of another human being.


    ---


    They arrived home in Greenbaby, and as Darren stepped inside, the television was already on.


    Brooklyn Baker''s voice echoed through the room.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, breaking news tonight; after years of terrorizing the city, the notorious Red Fang Association has finally been taken down. An anonymous tip led the CPD straight to Steelhead, real name Tyrese Odunese, who was linked to the Nelson Bank robbery after forensic evidence tied him to a discarded firearm at the crime scene.


    "With new financial and criminal evidence surfacing, the entire Red Fang network is being dismantled as we speak. Their illegal operations, scams, and underground dealings have plagued this state for years. But tonight, thanks to an unknown informant, Calivernia can finally breathe a little easier."


    Darren removed his coat.


    Kara was still staring at the screen, dumbfounded.


    Then, she slowly turned to him.


    "You..." she started, her voice breathless.


    She blinked.


    "You are so hot."


    Darren barely had time to react before she stood up, walked toward him, and, without warning, grabbed him by the collar.


    Then, she crashed her lips onto his.

 Chapter 48: Unbridled Desire (1)

    Darren pulled away from the kiss, looking down at Kara with eyes that had confusion and shock.


    Her eyes were soft and fragile as she looked up at him, her lips slightly parted. Darren saw the redness form on her dainty cheeks and her the hint of uncertainty and timidness flickering in her gaze.


    Ding! The system sang


    ©³This character is deeply attracted to you©¿


    Ding! It went again.


    ©³This character feels a romantic connection with you©¿


    Darren just stared.


    "Are you going to push me away?" she asked gently, her voice barely above a whisper.


    Darren''s heart pounded in his chest.


    So far, he''d only seen Kara as a flirtatious young woman who had a wild life that he would prefer being distant from.


    He had started enjoying her company and her quirky jokes, and would even find himself noticing how attractive she was at times.


    Yet, he never saw her as a potential partner. And even if they''d joke about it, he never believed he would sleep with her either.


    In fact, after this. He planned to simply pay her her money and send her back with a warning of what he could do to her if she told anyone his secrets.


    But now... with that single kiss from her. That daring move. Everything just turned upside down. Everything felt completely different.


    As they stood face to face, lips and tongues smeared by each other''s saliva, he could feel the heat radiating from her body, the softness of her breath against his face.


    He reached down, gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing against her soft skin.


    "No," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "You can stay."


    He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deeper, and more passionate kiss.


    Kara melted into him, her body pressing against his, her hands tangling in his hair.


    Darren''s hands couldn''t allow hers to have all the fun. They explored her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the small of her back, the swell of her breasts.


    She pushed her body closer to him more and more. It was passionate and completely disarranged. They just did as their bodies let them.


    As the kiss intensified, Kara gasped into his mouth, caused by the sudden manner in which he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her hardening nipples.


    She moaned through the kisses, feeling his fingers playing and slightly pinching her nipples through her dress.


    Pitying her poor control over the weak spot, Darren decided to break the kiss. However, lips went on a separate journey.


    They trailed down her neck romantically, nibbling on the sensitive skin, and planting soft kisses and random intervals.


    Unable to contain the pleasure, Kara tilted her head back, moaning softly.


    "Mister... Mister D," she breathed, her voice filled with desire. "I want you."


    Darren looked down at her, his eyes dark with hunger.


    He stopped touching her, stopped kissing, stopped caressing.


    Then, as she looked up at him, he touched the side of her face in such a dominant manner that Kara felt herself melt on his palm.


    Her eyebrows slanted in a vulnerable manner. Darren couldn''t even believe that this was the same witty, sharp mouthed Kara.


    He took her hand, leading her to the couch. He sat down, pulling her onto his lap. Kara straddled him, her hands on his chest, her breath heavy and arriving in sexy gasps.


    Darren traced his fingers down her shoulders and to her back, then skillfully unzipped her gown without even looking.


    As he did this, she moaned slightly at the faint touch of his fingers brushing against her soft skin.


    He lowered the expensive fabric down her shoulders, revealing her lace bra.


    Kara''s face even reddened the more, seeing how fixed his gaze was at her glistening cleavage.


    Like a lion, Darren leaned in to feast.


    Even though her breasts were still imprisoned inside her bra, he captured one nipple in his mouth through the fabric, teasing it with his tongue.


    "Uhhhhh!" Kara arched her back as the soft moan escaped her lips.


    Annoyed with its presence, Darren unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the side.


    He took her breast in his hand, his thumb circling her nipple. Kara''s breath hitched, her eyes filled with desire, her lips squeezed as she tried to hold back squirms and squeaks.


    But Darren ¡ª as unforgiven as he was ¡ª leaned in, capturing her nipple into his mouth and locking his lips around them.


    "Uhhh!" she moaned. "That''s so mean!" Kara''s hands were in his hair, her body pressing against his.


    Darren let go of her nipples and looked at her, smiling proudly. "I didn''t know your nipples were that sensitive."


    She gave up, looking at him like she was telling him to do as he pleased with them.


    And so he did.


    Darren kept sucking and sucking. Every time his mouth was sucking on a nipple, his palm had grasped the other breast, fondling with that nipple.


    And every time he switched places, Kara would moan and squirm beyond her own control. Spasms of pleasure burst from her areolas and reverberated through her fragile, slender body.


    Then, taking her by surprise, Darren stood up, lifting Kara with him. He carried her to the bigger couch, laying her down on her back.


    He took a moment to look at her, his eyes tracing the curves of her body. Kara looked up at him, her eyes filled with anticipation.


    She let the gown fall completely off her body, and when it hung on the tip of her toe, she gave it a swing, flinging it at the nearby couch.


    Making sure she maintained eye contact with him, Kara sat up straight, knowing what came next.


    Darren began unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers.


    Suddenly, his cock sprang free, hard and ready. Kara shifted her head backwards as it had almost hit her jaw, then her eyes widened once she took a good look at it, a soft moan escaping her lips.


    "He he," she laughed in an unusually nervous manner that was unlike her. "I was¡ª I was not expecting that."


    But then Darren did something she didn''t expect.


    Instead of asking her to open her mouth, or maybe even putting it in himself, he suddenly placed his hand on her shoulders and pushed her to the coach.


    "Ughhh!" she moaned.


    Darren quickly knelt before her, his hands sliding up her thighs. He pushed her legs apart, his eyes locked on her wet pussy.


    Kara''s breath hitched as she felt his tongue flick over her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. Darren''s tongue moved expertly over her, his fingers joining in the teasing. Kara''s moans filled the room, her body writhing under his touch.


    Darren''s tongue moved lower, teasing her entrance. Kara''s moans grew louder, her body begging for more.


    Darren''s tongue pushed inside her, filling her in a way that made her ache for more. Kara''s hands tangled in his hair, her hips moving in time with his tongue.


    Darren''s tongue left her, and Kara whimpered at the loss.


    But Darren wasn''t done with her yet. He stood, his cock hard and ready. Kara''s eyes widened as she took in his size, her pussy clenching in anticipation.


    "You''re not gonna let me catch my breath?" she whispered.


    Darren smirked. Even when her pussy was leaking and her body was vibrating, Kara DeAndre still had time for jokes.


    He pushed her down onto the couch, his body completely covering hers. Kara''s breath trapped as she felt his cock tease her entrance.


    Then with a bam!, Darren''s hips moved, his cock sliding inside her. Kara''s body stretched to accommodate him, a gasp escaping her lips.


    His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock filling her in a way that made her ache for more. Kara''s moans grew louder, her body moving in time with his.


    Darren''s thrusts grew harder, his hips pounding into hers. Her moans grew louder, her body trembling under his. His fingers found her clit, teasing her sensitive flesh. Kara''s body tensed, her orgasm building inside her.


    "I think... Ukkkk! Oh my! Ngh!" She yanked backwards. "I think I''m going to cum."


    "Stay in place, Kara," Darren demanded. "I''m going to cum too."


    With a final thrust, Darren''s body tensed, his cock pulsing inside her. But then he quickly pulled away as his cum poured all over body. Kara''s orgasm washed over her, her body trembling under the drops of man milk.


    Her body was spent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Slowly, Darren lowered his body and his lips found hers in a slow, lingering kiss.


    Kara''s heart raced, her body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter.


    Darren''s lips left hers, his eyes meeting hers.


    "That was... amazing," she whispered to him, her voice filled with desire. Darren''s heart swelled with pride, his body still humming with pleasure.


    He stood, pulling Kara up with him. Kara''s eyes widened as she saw the dining table, and saw that he was heading for it.


    Darren''s eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face.


    "Ready for round two?"

 Chapter 49: Unbridled Desire (2)

    "You''re quite greedy, you kn¡ª oh!"


    Darren didn''t let her finish. His hands found their way to Kara''s waist, pulling her closer to him.


    She was dragged down from the couch and into a sitting position on the floor with him.


    She gasped, thinking to herself how hot that was. Darren felt how bare she was becoming with him. More and more vulnerable as he took change over her naked body.


    They gazed at each other for a time frozen eternity.


    Kara could feel his passion and Darren could feel the heat radiating from her body, her heartbeat racing against his chest.


    He leaned and was the one to kiss this time, attacking her red lips with his. Kara kissed her, rubbing her hands around his neck and back, his shoulders, his biceps.


    ''Oh,'' she thought to herself voraciously. His strong, thick biceps.


    After a while, Darren broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck, eliciting a soft gasp from her. "You''re so beautiful," he murmured.


    Kara''s eyes widened, shocked by the statement. She felt her beating heart fall to her stomach, pounding even harder. She gazed at his face with the utmost rush of emotions.


    In her mind, she told him she loved him. That he was the best person she''d ever known. That she didn''t want to know how it felt when his hands were not on her body ever again.


    But her trembling lips couldn''t let her say any of that. Not yet.


    She had to make do with her thoughts.


    Darren moved his hands and grabbed the roundness and profoundness of her full breasts, squeezing them gently once more.


    Kara''s breath hitched, her eyes never leaving his.


    He lowered his head once more and his lips this time found her collarbone. He went lower, lower, down the middle of her breasts and then her breasts themselves, his tongue circling her nipples hungrily.


    Kara arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her head fell on the sofa behind her as she tried and tried to catch her breath.


    Darren was so madly good with foreplay.


    He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, his hands cupping her breasts. Kara''s hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer.


    Darren moved lower, his lips trailing a path down her stomach. He could feel her body trembling under his touch.


    "You''re so... so beautiful, Kara," he said, his voice hoarse.


    Kara bit her lip, her cheeks flushed. There he went. He said it again. Why did she feel her heart thump each time he complimented her like that?


    She reached for Darren''s shirt, unbuttoned it completely and pushed it off his body, his chest and abs glistening before her.


    In a trance of romance, she reached for them, not knowing which to choose at first.


    Her hand rested on his chest and she caressed it smoothly before lowering to his abs and then lower, and lower... to his cock.


    Kara wrapped her hand around it, her thumb brushing over the tip. Darren let out a low groan, his hips thrusting forward slightly. "You like that?" Kara asked, a smirk playing on her lips.


    Darren nodded, his eyes locked onto hers. "Come here," he said, his voice a low growl. Kara got up from the sitting position, her hand still stroking him like she didn''t want to let it go.


    Darren guided her to her knees, his cock now at her eye level. Kara looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire. She leaned forward, her tongue flicking out, licking the tip of his cock.


    Darren let out a shuddering breath, his hands finding their way into her hair.


    Slowly, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft.


    At first, she moved slowly, her head bobbing up and down. Then, Darren''s grip on her hair tightened, and his hips began to move in sync with her movements.


    "Fuck, Kara," he groaned, his eyes closed. "You''re so good at that."


    "Thank you, Mr... ngh... Duckling."


    Seeing he loved it, Kara picked up the pace, her mouth moving faster. Darren could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing.


    The sounds of his cock sliding down her throat, saliva splashing out of her mouth, and the choking at intervals all came together to give him the most amazing cock-thrilling experience.


    He looked down at her, his breath coming in short gasps. "I''m going to come," he warned, his voice ragged.


    But Kara didn''t stop. In fact, her mouth moved faster, and her hand joined the fray, stroking him in sync.


    It built up in his balls and once they clenched, Darren let out a low groan.


    His body convulsed as he came, his seed spilling into Kara''s mouth.


    Once he was done, he pulled his cock out of her mouth. A few drops of it fell off her lips but she swallowed it all, her eyes locked onto his.


    Darren gazed at her, trying to catch his breath. "That was amazing," he said, his voice breathless.


    Kara smiled, her body pressed against his. "I''m glad you thought so," she said, her hand reaching down to stroke his still hard cock. "Can you still go after that?" she asked in a pleading tone.


    Mhm?


    Darren looked down at her, chest rising and falling. Then he smiled.


    ----


    "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Oh my G¡ª Ngh!"


    Kara cried out, her hands gripping the cushions tightly as Darren pounded harder and harder into her, his hips slapping against hers with each thrust.


    The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room, Kara''s moans and Darren''s grunts creating a symphony of desire.


    "Deeper," Kara gasped, her voice breathy. "Yes, deeper."


    Darren obliged, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, his cock hitting all the right spots inside her.


    Kara could feel her orgasm building, her body trembling with anticipation. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, their bodies moving in perfect sync.


    "Aooww! Ohh. You''re making my entire body shiver!"


    Darren reached around, his hand finding her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. Kara screamed, her body convulsing as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. Darren continued to fuck her, his own orgasm building with each thrust.


    "Ohhhhhhhh yesssssss. Mr. Ducklingggggggg!"

 Chapter 50: Morning Reflections

    The morning light seeped through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom.


    Darren sat on the edge of his bed, one foot resting on the wooden floor, the other tucked under his knee. A steaming mug of coffee rested in his hand, tendrils of warmth curling into the air.


    His laptop was open beside him, but his eyes weren''t on the screen.


    Instead, his attention was fixed on the translucent purple interface hovering before him, the Investor System had arrived with some announcements.


    A soft chime rang in his ears, followed by a string of notifications appearing in front of him.


    ------------


    ©³Congratulations! You have completed Weekly Quest: Super Profit!©¿


    Reward: 80% Discount on Next Major Purchase (Valid on Purchases above $5,000)


    -------------


    Darren raised an eyebrow.


    That was... significant.


    An 80% discount on a big purchase? It would be wise to save this for a very very big purchase. Seeing that there was no limit and $5,000 was the least price, then he could very well buy something of $10,000,000 at the price of 20%


    He smirked. That was insane for a mere Weekly Quest. His first three Weekly Quests had given him meager cashbacks and double item purchase ¡ª having twice of an item purchased below $3,000.


    Maybe the fourth week''s reward was usually bigger because it was the last in a month.


    Not thinking much of it, he returned to the system.


    -----------


    ©³Congratulations! You have completed Monthly Quest: Building a Foundation!©¿


    ©³Reward: Multi-Saving Interest ¡ª Any money stored in your savings this month (untouched) will be TRIPLED by the end of the month.©¿


    -------------


    His fingers tightened slightly around his coffee mug.


    Tripled.


    If he dumped a hundred grand into his savings, he''d have three hundred by next month. A million? Three million.


    This felt ironic coming from a system that told him that money stored in a bank was being wasted. But he understood that the system only wanted him to keep a fair amount.


    But with the temptation of it being tripled, Darren was also considering just dumping ten million into the savings.


    ------------


    ©³Congratulations! You have completed Monthly Quest: No Debt, No Stress!©¿


    ©³Reward: Elite Credit Status ¡ª Enjoy premium borrowing perks, including easier loan approvals, lower interest rates, and superior deals when purchasing properties or businesses with loans.©¿


    -------------


    Darren exhaled slowly.


    Elite credit status.


    He knew what this meant. Last month was just the beginners stage. With a reward like this, the system was certainly expecting him to go all in on Investor mode.


    This wasn''t just about buying things, it was about power. If he played his cards right, he could take out massive loans, flip assets, invest in high-value properties, and walk away with millions while paying barely any interest.


    Especially when he knew the kinds of business that were going to be successful.


    A deep satisfaction settled in his chest.


    He was moving up.


    And fast.


    Perhaps it was time to start that business company.


    ---


    A final message popped up.


    ©³It is advisable to check your Profile Status at the start of every month.©¿


    Darren nodded slightly. It has been a while since he checked his profile status.


    With a thought, he opened his status window. A familiar panel unfolded before him.


    ---------------------------------------


    ©³Host Profile: Darren Steele©¿


    ©³Age: 21©¿


    ©³Assets:


    ¡ª Cash: $25,876,000 (Checking)


    ¡ª Personal Belongings: $5,670,600©¿


    ©³Liabilities:


    ¡ª Debt Free©¿


    ©³Net Worth: (Assets Minus Liabilities)


    ¡ª $31,546,600 - $0.00 = $31,546,600©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Active Investments: BTC©¿


    ©³Business Owned: None©¿


    ©³Portfolio Summary:


    ¡ª Stocks: 0


    ¡ª Cryptocurrency: $1,500,000


    ¡ª Physical Assets: 0©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Expenditure Log©¿


    ©³Monthly Expenditure:


    ¡ª Money Gained: $30,187,000


    ¡ª Money Spent: $4,311,000©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Reputation Tracker©¿


    ©³Public Reception: Mystery Investor©¿


    ©³Rivals'' Fear: No Business Rivals©¿


    ©³Allies'' Loyalty: Leonard Holloway (B+)©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Financial Milestones©¿


    ©³First $1M Net Worth: Unlocked©¿


    ©³First Profitable Investment: Unlocked©¿


    ©³First Business Acquisition: Locked©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Legacy Counter©¿


    ©³Jobs Created: 0©¿


    ©³Companies Disrupted: 1©¿


    ©³Rivals Defeated: 0©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Quests©¿


    ©³Weekly Quest:


    ¡ª Mega Makeover: No more life in the shadows. Begin to reinvent yourself and your lifestyle as a millionaire investor©¿


    ©³Monthly Quest:


    ¡ª Seeing is Believing: Many investors prefer solid investments as they''re more trustworthy. But who says you can''t do both? Invest in three solid products


    ¡ª Start of an Empire: Create your business company and begin scouting and hiring of employees©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Congratulations, you have Unlocked an Achievement!©¿


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Bitcoin Millionaire


    ¡ª You registered a stunning growth in only one month. You are a millionaire true and through.©¿


    --------------------------------------


    Darren scanned through the information, taking note of the steady climb in his progress.


    His wealth had grown exponentially.


    His skills had improved.


    The money he took from the Red Fang and the one he won in the gamble was what greatly increased his fortune. They would be of great help in the multiple investments he had planned this month.


    And even better, he didn''t have that pitiful Achievement anymore.


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Bitcoin Millionaire


    ¡ª You registered a stunning growth in only one month. You are a millionaire true and through.©¿


    A soft exhale left his lips. This was better.


    "Hey." He heard a voice.


    Darren turned his head toward the doorway.


    Kara stood there, wearing nothing but his white button-up shirt, which barely reached her thighs. Her arms were crossed, her head tilted slightly as she studied him.


    It seemed she''d been there for a while.


    "Hey," he replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. "How long have you been there?"


    Kara smacked her lips. "You do this thing where you just stare into space like you''re reading something I can''t see. You know that, right?"


    Darren didn''t answer. He took the last sip of his coffee, set the mug down, and exhaled.


    "I''m hungry," he muttered as he got to his feet.


    He walked past her toward the kitchen.


    Behind him, Kara let out a dramatic gasp.


    "Not even a kiss?" she called, following after him.


    Darren turned back slightly and just smiled.


    They both entered the kitchen. Darren opened a cupboard and pulled out a jar of beans, changed his mind and returned it.


    Kara leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching him with a lazy smirk.


    "So," she drawled, "last night was... interesting."


    Darren didn''t react. He grabbed a pan from the rack and set it on the stove.


    Kara''s smirk deepened. "I mean, for someone so calculated, you sure didn''t see that coming, huh?"


    He popped open a container of eggs, deliberately ignoring her.


    She laughed. "Oh, come on, Mr Duckling. You''re really gonna act all stoic now?"


    He cracked an egg into a bowl. "Are you going to help me breakfast or just standing there running your mouth?"


    Kara gasped, placing a hand over her chest. "I see. So we''re making breakfast together now?" She smiled. "You''re lucky I happen to be a great cook."


    Darren gave her a sideways glance. "Is that so?"


    "Yeah." She walked over, snatching the spatula from the counter. "Step aside, rookie."


    Darren didn''t move.


    She tried to push him. He didn''t budge.


    "Okay, what the hell do you feed yourself?" she muttered, giving up.


    "Protein."


    Kara rolled her eyes. "Of course."


    She grabbed a loaf of bread and turned toward the toaster. "Fine. I''ll make toast. Can''t mess that up, right?"


    Darren tossed in another egg. "I wouldn''t put it past you."


    She gasped. "You dare underestimate me?"


    "I''m just saying¡ª"


    At that moment, the smell of something burning filled the air.


    Kara turned to the toaster. Smoke curled from the slot.


    Darren raised an eyebrow.


    Kara sighed. "I hate you."


    He smirked.


    She grabbed the toast (which was basically charcoal) and set it on a plate.


    Darren plated the eggs.


    "Alright, I''ll accept your eggs," Kara said, leaning against the counter. "But just so you know, I totally could have made breakfast. I just... didn''t feel like it."


    "Sure."


    She pointed at him. "Mock me again, and I''ll burn your whole kitchen down."


    Darren chuckled softly, shaking his head.


    Then¡ª


    Riiiiing.


    His phone vibrated against the counter.


    He glanced at the caller ID.


    The name on the screen made him pause.


    Alison.


    He stared at it for a moment.


    Huh.


    He had almost forgotten about her.


    Kara noticed his change in expression. "Who is it?"


    Darren picked up the phone.


    "A friend," he said simply.


    Kara raised an eyebrow. "And this friend is...?"


    Darren didn''t answer.


    Instead, he answered the call and put the phone to his ear.


    "Hello?"

 Chapter 51: Invitation

    Darren leaned against the kitchen counter, phone pressed to his ear. For a moment, he wondered how Alison had gotten his number.


    He hoped that she didn''t go searching about him and got his number from Lily.


    But that was impossible, he got a new line some weeks ago.


    Right. He remembered now. When they had gone on that impromptu ice cream date, they had exchanged numbers. Honestly, he had almost forgotten about it.


    He had forgotten about mostly everything that happened that day. Except being hit on countless times by college girls.


    "Hello," he said, his tone neutral.


    "Hey Darren. How are you?" She asked, her voice light and casual. "It''s Alison."


    "I know," he said. "I have your number saved."


    He understood that she might have been nervous or insecure about that. Maybe she had thought he didn''t care at all to save her number.


    Darren wasn''t that heartless.


    "I''m good anyway. How are you?"


    "I''m great, actually! It''s nice to hear your voice." Her cheeks reddened on the other side of the call.


    A man''s voice in the morning. The world''s greatest aphrodisiac.


    "Uhm..." Darren''s voice sounded like a groan. "Thanks?"


    "Yeah. So, remember that night drink I told you about? The little get-together with some of our old school friends?"


    Darren took a sip of his coffee, mulling over the memory. Yeah, he did remember her mentioning it briefly, though at the time, he hadn''t given it much thought.


    Did he agree to anything? Fuck.


    "Yeah," he said, threading lightly.


    "Well, it''s happening tomorrow night," she said, her voice lifting with excitement. "Are you still interested?"


    Darren set his mug down. At least she''s still giving me the chance to choose again.


    He thought about it. A get together of his former colleagues in school. Ugh... Depends.


    "Who''s gonna be there?" he asked.


    "Oh, just some of my friends."


    Darren''s brow arched slightly. Some of her friends? His tone remained measured, but his next question carried more weight.


    "Will Tyler Mooney be there?"


    There was a noticeable pause.


    Kara, who had been eavesdropping shamelessly while buttering a piece of toast, perked up. She widened her eyes mockingly at him and mouthed oooooh before grinning.


    Darren looked away.


    Allison''s voice came back, a little too quickly. "No! Of course not. Ever since we broke up, we don''t even talk anymore."


    Darren didn''t react immediately, letting a beat of silence pass.


    Kara leaned closer, making exaggerated faces, mimicking Allison''s nervous response. Darren gave her a sidelong glance but ignored her antics.


    Finally, he exhaled. "Fine. Text me the location. I wouldn''t mind catching up with some people."


    Truthfully, his decision wasn''t just about socializing.


    He was about to start his company, and a gathering of former college mates ¡ª especially those from the business and finance department of BUBL ¡ª could be useful.


    Conversations could spark ideas, connections could be made, and valuable insights could surface.


    Not a bad move.


    Allison''s relief was almost tangible through the phone. "Really? Great! I''ll text you the place right away!"


    Kara, still watching him, narrowed her eyes and started mouthing ''Who is this?'' dramatically, pointing at his phone.


    Darren ignored her, finishing the call with a simple, "See you then."


    As soon as he lowered the phone, Kara pounced.


    "So, who''s Aliiiiiison?" she asked, drumming her fingers on the counter with mock curiosity.


    "Someone I know," he replied, brushing past her to grab his coffee again. "Or used to."


    "''Someone you know,'' huh?" Kara smirked. "That didn''t sound like ''someone you know.'' That sounded like ''someone I went on a date with but forgot about until she called just now.''"


    Darren said nothing. He just took a slow sip of his coffee.


    Kara leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. "Sooooo...?"


    "How would you like a job?" he asked abruptly.


    Kara blinked. "A job?"


    He nodded.


    She narrowed her eyes, staring at him. "You deflect like a pro. I respect that."


    But she was intrigued. "What is this job you''re talking about? In fact, scratch that. What''s the pay."


    Darren simply smirked and finished his coffee. "Come. We''ll talk about it over another round."


    Kara was unable to do anything as he grabbed her by the arm and led her back to the bedroom.


    "Jesus, Mr D. You''re gonna run yourself dry."


    ------------------------


    The next night came quicker than Darren expected.


    The city lights shimmered against the sleek, metallic body of Darren''s Aston Martin as he pulled up to the curb. The low growl of the engine purred to a stop, drawing the attention of nearby pedestrians.


    A group of young men passing by let out whistles of appreciation.


    "Damn, look at that ride."


    "That''s an Aston Martin One-77, man! That''s, like, one of the rarest models out there!"


    "Who the hell owns that?"


    Darren didn''t acknowledge them. He stepped out of the car, dressed in a casual yet affluent ensemble: black tailored slacks, an open-collared white button-up, and a sleek, dark gray blazer that complemented his sharp features.


    On his wrist, a subtle but expensive timepiece gleamed under the city lights.


    Across the street, two women at a cafe?''s outdoor seating area turned their heads. One of them subtly nudged the other, whispering something as their eyes followed him.


    Darren barely glanced their way.


    Instead of parking right in front of the bar-restaurant he was supposed to meet Allison and her friends at, he had chosen to park a fair distance away.


    Why?


    Because he wasn''t entirely sure who would be there yet. Rolling up in an Aston Martin straight to the entrance was a statement.


    And he didn''t want to come off as a showoff. At least not yet.


    His shoes tapped against the pavement as he walked toward the venue, the crisp night air carrying the low murmur of city life.


    The restaurant-bar was called The Gilded Stag.


    He knew about it but he hadn''t really been inside before. Didn''t have the money for such a fancy place. Experience exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire


    It was a polished establishment with a modern but slightly rustic touch. Its golden sign of stag horns glowed under the warm exterior lighting, casting a soft hue over the stone entrance.


    Darren pushed open the light glass door which made a bell sound as he stepped inside.


    The ambiance was lively but not chaotic, the hum of conversation was present, including clinking of glasses and cutlery.


    Darren scanned the room.


    Not long after, he spotted her.


    Allison, sitting in a corner booth, waving at him.


    Around her, three other women and¡ª


    Darren''s gaze landed on the one man sitting with them.


    His expression barely changed, but something inside him cooled slightly.


    He recognized him.


    That was Terry Wilson.


    A familiar face from college.


    And not in a good way.


    Terry had been one of his bullies back in the day. A good friend of Tyler Mooney.


    Darren''s jaw set ever so slightly.


    Well. This just got interesting.

 Chapter 52: The Gilded Stag

    Alison couldn''t afford the Gilded Stag. Not on a teacher''s salary at least.


    But with the friends she had gathered with her, getting a table was no problem at all.


    She had planned this mini get together for a while. Although many people she invited didn''t come such as Lily who said she was too busy helping with her dad''s company, and Olivia who said she was too busy building her own.


    Even Charles Nelson, someone she has also been close friends with, refused to come. And yes she knew he was shot on the leg a few days ago, but he had declined her way before then.


    He was a multimillionaire now. It was almost like he didn''t have time for her anymore. Not like he used to do back in college.


    Alison felt alone. Her popularity in college had faded away, and everyone who gushed for her attention back then were way better off than she was. Now, she was the one begging for attention.


    This get-together. It was the only way she could feel how it was back then. It was her grasping at the edges of the life she once had.


    Running into Darren Steele was what reopened the wound. Even him. He had gotten better, richer, and she was the one asking for his time.


    Hopefully, he would be kinder than the rest who had abandoned her. Make her feel seen again. Even though she greatly doubted it.


    The dim glow of the Gilded Stag''s chandeliers bathed the polished wood and golden accents of the bar in a warm ambiance.


    Laughter and conversation mingled with the rich aroma of wine and expensive cigars. Seated in a private booth toward the back, Alison drummed her fingers lightly on the table, her gaze flicking toward the entrance every so often.


    Across from her, Terry leaned back, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass with an air of boredom. He let out an exaggerated sigh before speaking.


    "This wine is not as good as it used to be."


    "Alison, are you sure he''s even going to show up?" Sophie McClain, one of the girls at the table asked. "He''s probably just as nervous and misplaced as he was back then. I don''t even know why we''re waiting for him."


    "Just wait," Alison said, not looking at her. "He''s coming."


    Terry narrowed his eyes in pointless thought, setting his glass down. "Who are we even waiting for again?"


    Another of the girls, Emily Darwin, sighed. She had been more interested in catching up with old friends than whatever Alison was planning.


    "Darren, Terry. Darren Steele. The crypto geek? And Allie, I don''t get why you''re making such a big deal out of him anyway. He was probably one of the least liked students back in college."


    Alison exhaled through her nose. "I know, I know." Her fingers brushed against the stem of her untouched wine glass. "I just... I want you guys to see him."


    From her right, Tamara Johnstone smirked, tilting her head. "You''re not teasing him, are you?" she asked, her voice playful but edged with suspicion.


    Alison''s lips parted slightly, as if caught off guard. "What? No."


    Tamara''s smirk widened. "Really? You didn''t lie to him, did you? Tell me you didn''t say this was a date just to mess with his feelings like you did back then."


    Sophie giggled, covering her mouth. Terry chuckled lowly. "Yeah. That''s some kind of shit Alison would do, isn''t it?"


    "Oh, come on," Alison groaned, shaking her head. "It''s nothing like that. I just... I just want you guys to see him. Ugh. I''ve changed, okay? I''m not like how I was in high school and college."


    Terry raised an eyebrow but said nothing.


    "Okay, whatever." He rested his head on his palm and lay backwards.


    Then the door opened.


    Terry''s eyes flicked open lazily, glancing at the entrance. But his expression shifted when he saw who walked in.


    An extremely good-looking young man stepped inside, dressed in fine casual yet elegant clothes. His wristwatch caught the warm glow of the chandeliers, subtle yet unmistakably expensive.


    His brown hair was styled just enough to look effortlessly refined, and the sharp lines of his face carried a quiet confidence that drew eyes as he moved.


    Terry squinted. "Who the hell is that?"


    The other girls turned to look, their casual interest quickly shifting to something closer to shock.


    Then, they saw Alison waving to the man.


    "Wha¡ª what is she doing?!"


    "What are you doing, Alison?!" Tamara called.


    "Alison, put your hand down!" Emily whispered harshly. "Why are you waving at that handsome guy?! He''s going to think we''re crazy!"


    But Alison didn''t listen to them. A slow grin spread across her face as she lifted her hand higher, her fingers moving in a small wave.


    Across the room, Darren hesitated briefly when he saw her, but then he began making his way toward them.


    Sophie inhaled sharply. "Oh my God. He''s coming here! He''s coming."


    The girls straightened in their seats, subtly adjusting their hair, their postures, their expressions. Terry, on the other hand, sat up, his jaw tightening.


    Darren approached the booth, his steps slow and precise. When he stopped in front of them, he looked at Alison first.


    "Hey."


    Alison smiled. "Hey." Her eyes flickered over him, taking in his attire, his face, his presence. She blushed.


    Terry, still processing what was happening, glanced between them before asking, "Uh... Alison, do you know this guy?"


    Alison giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What are you talking about? That''s Darren."


    Silence.


    Then¡ª


    "Whaaaaattttttttt!"


    The reaction was immediate. The girls'' jaws dropped. Terry''s brows shot up. Sophie, Tamara and Emily exchanged stunned looks.


    -------------


    Darren was sat now at the table, and so far, they''d only ordered some snacks and wine.


    Darren had gotten a response from the system as it ushered out all their profiles and separate business. Except Alison and Emily who were both art inclined.


    ¡ª---------------------


    ©³SYSTEM SCAN: BUSINESS PROFILES©¿


    ©³Profile: Sophie McClain©¿


    ©³Business Name: VE?RITE? Magazine


    Industry: Luxury Fashion & Lifestyle Media


    Position: Founder & Editor-in-Chief


    Established: 4 Years Ago


    Revenue: Moderate, rapidly growing


    Reputation: B+ ©¿


    ¡ª---------------------


    ©³Profile: Tamara Johnstone©¿


    ©³Business Name: Horizon Strategies & Investments


    Industry: Finance & Business Consulting


    Position: CEO & Lead Investment Strategist


    Established: 6 Years Ago


    Revenue: High, strong market presence


    Reputation: A©¿


    ¡ª-----------------------


    ©³Profile: Terry Wilson©¿


    ©³Business Name: Wilson Logistics & Supplies (Subsidiary of Moon Enterprises)


    Industry: General Contracting & Supply Chain Management


    Position: Operations Supervisor


    Established: 3 Years Ago


    Revenue: Stable but unremarkable


    Reputation: C-©¿


    ¡ª---------------------------


    Darren narrowed his eyes at the information.


    ''Of course. I''m not surprised. All Terry did in college was attach himself to Tyler Mooney. Obviously he went to him and got a job as a contractor.'' Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire


    But of course, this was good news still. Because Terry Wilson was a path straight to Moon Enterprises and Tyler Mooney himself.

 Chapter 53: More Spit and No Teeth

    Because of his presence, the atmosphere in the bar had shifted greatly.


    Neither of them had expected to see Darren appearing in such a manner. At this point, they could recognize him, but comparing him to how he looked back in college, the difference was mind shattering.


    Conversation became short and careful.


    What had started as an idle gathering of old acquaintances had become something else entirely: a silent evaluation.


    Everyone at the table was looking at him differently now. Some with surprise, some with curiosity, and one with growing resentment.


    After they had all ordered, Sophie, still looking at him as if seeing a ghost, was the first to ask him a direct question.


    "Excuse me," she began.


    Darren lifted his head. "Mmm?"


    "Are you... really Darren Steele?" She asked gently.


    Darren gave her a short smile. "You mean Death Wish Darren?"


    Sophie''s eyes flickered with surprise.


    "Yes," Darren said simply. "It''s me."


    He wasn''t being hostile by pointing out the name, he was just letting her know that he still remembered that she ¡ª just like the other girls here ¡ª used to call her that name.


    Sitting beside Alison, he returned his expression to an unreadable one.


    Sophie McClain tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and gave Emily a glance. Emily in turn, shot one at Tamara.


    "So it really is you, huh," Sophie started, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "How long has it been? College? Almost two years now?"


    Darren nodded, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his own untouched drink. "Something like that. You did graduate before some of us."


    "Those were... fun times," Tamara Johnstone chimed in, crossing her legs elegantly.


    Darren noticed the sleek black outfit that she was dressed in. One that screamed wealth and calculated ambition. "Some of us have moved on to different things. Some of us are still finding our way."


    Darren smirked slightly at her subtle dig but let it pass. "And what about you, Sophie? How''s the magazine doing?"


    Sophie''s face lit up with genuine enthusiasm, then she narrowed her eyes. "You, uh... you know about that?" she asked, surprised.


    Darren nodded. "How can I forget? You used to carry that beat-up leather notebook everywhere, sketching out logo ideas, listing headlines you wanted to write. You even interviewed students in the cafeteria like it was some New York Times piece. You never shut up about how you were going to build your own empire. It''s good that you''re doing something you''ve had lots of passion for."


    Sophie blushed and lowered her face. "He-he." A nervous chuckle left her. "I never knew you noticed."


    "I did." He took a sip of his wine. "VE?RITE?, right?"


    "Yes," she lit up. "VE?RITE? is finally gaining real traction. We''ve been featured in some major luxury campaigns, and I''ve got a few high-profile names lined up. It''s a grind, but like you said, I''ve been doing this since high school. I wasn''t going to let it go."


    Tamara swirled the dark liquid in her glass, watching their exchange. She didn''t know why, but she quickly became jealous of the attention Darren was giving Sophie and so she chimed in.


    "I''ve been busy too," she said. "My firm, Horizon Strategies, is in the process of a transition. My father is stepping down, and I''m next in line to take over¡ª except my brother thinks otherwise."


    Sophie made a face.


    Emily turned to her. "Oh God, you mean Andrew? I thought he didn''t want anything to do with business."


    Tamara exhaled through her nose. "That was before he realized how much money was on the table."


    Darren leaned back slightly. "So it''s a competition then?"


    Tamara''s lips curled into a smirk, looking at him. "Everything is a competition."


    Darren hummed, understanding that logic all too well. "Agreed."


    Sophie suddenly perked up. "Speaking of work, I''m in the middle of trying to secure Ava Monroe as our next cover sponsor."


    Darren raised a brow. "Ava Monroe?"


    "Yeah, the actress. It''s a big deal for us. If we get her, VE?RITE? goes from promising to established overnight."


    He lowered his head in thought. ''What a small world. Ava Monroe is basically my neighbor. Sophie, my colleague from school, wants her signature to take her company to the next level. Do I have some sort of leverage here? Is there something I could even want from her.''


    He thought harder. ''Could a magazine company gain me anything as a business ally?''


    The system began giving him responses, but Darren selected ©³read later©¿once he noticed that Tamara was leaning in to ask him a question.


    "So, Darren. What do you do exactly?"


    Darren glanced shortly at Alison, who smiled beautifully, knowing what he was going to say.


    "Business," he replied. I do business.


    That answer was far from satisfactory. Both Sophie and Tamara exchanged glances before pressing on.


    "I mean... so do most of us," Tamara giggled.


    "What kind of business?" Emily piped in.


    Feeling as though the art and crafts girl shouldn''t put her mouth in discussions such as this, Darren held back his thoughts and replied casually.


    "It''s a new business. I''m just starting it up.


    The table went silent for a moment. Then, from the other end, a slow, mocking chuckle rose.


    "Oh, give me a fucking break," Terry Wilson scoffed, shaking his head as he set his drink down with a loud clink. "This is such bullshit."


    Darren turned his gaze towards him, eyes cool but unreadable. "Something on your mind, Terry?"


    Terry sneered, leaning forward on the table. "Yeah, I got something on my mind, Steele. You walk in here, dressed like a goddamn Wall Street poster boy, acting like you''re some big shot, and now you''re telling us you''re a ''businessman''? What business, huh? Don''t tell me¡ª let me guess. You burned all your savings on designer clothes and expensive cologne just so you could put on this little show?"


    Alison tensed beside Darren. "Terry¡ª"


    "No, no, I want to hear this," Terry continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "What the hell could you possibly be running? Last I checked, you were hanging on Lily Smithers'' clit just so you could get a job under her father."


    "And you''ve been sucking Tyler Mooney''s cock ever since high school just to feed on his crumbs."


    Terry''s eyes turned red.


    Alison gagged.


    The other girls had wide eyes of shock. Silence reigned for a while. Uncomfortable silence, leaving Terry slightly disgraced.


    He chuckled. "Yeah I remember now. That''s why we called you Death Wish Darren, wasn''t it? Always running your mouth no matter how much beating you get."


    "Ah. You remember. How nice." Darren appeared not to even acknowledge him.


    Terry grinned. "Oh, I do. I remember a lot of things. Like how you lived in that shithole on Malgreen Street. You still there?"


    A chuckle rose from one of the girls, though she quickly covered her mouth. Sophie and Tamara didn''t laugh, but they watched Darren closely, waiting to see how he''d respond. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    Darren exhaled slowly through his nose, setting his drink down. He turned fully toward Terry, leveling him with a look so calm it was almost unsettling.


    "Actually, I don''t. I bought a house."


    Terry''s grin twitched slightly. "Oh yeah? And I''m the king of England."


    The table laughed, but Darren didn''t.


    "But you wouldn''t make a very great king, would you, Terry?" Darren said.


    "What?" Terry narrowed his eyes.


    "You have no idea how to be one. You''re more used to being the courier, the servant. That''s all you''ve been great at." Darren continued, eyes still locked on him. "What do you do these days?"


    Terry rolled his shoulders. "I work in logistics."


    Darren nodded, feigning interest. "Oh? Your own company?"


    Terry scoffed. "Nah, I work under Moon Enterprises. They own the business. But I handle operations, which means I actually do real work, unlike whatever fantasy you''re living in."


    Darren smirked slightly. "So you work for a subsidiary."


    Terry''s face twitched. "Yeah, so?"


    "So?" Darren leaned in slightly, voice quiet but sharp, "Terry, don''t be a fool. My company may be new but the difference between us... is that I own mine."


    His eyes narrowed with fire. "You don''t own anything. You work. You''re the slave. And your livelihood depends on the real owners of the company. Tyler."


    He took a sip of his wine, then adjusted. "So make sure to use more spit as you do it. And no teeth."


    Silence. The girls all clasped their mouths with their palms, some of them hid their faces.


    Terry''s face darkened, and the tension at the table spiked. Darren could hear Alison softly exhaling beside him, while Tamara''s lips curled slightly in what could only be amusement.


    Another round of laughter came from Terry, forced and bitter.


    "Oh, you think you''re hot shit now?" Terry muttered, swirling his drink.


    Darren didn''t say anything.


    Another silence stretched over the table. Then, with another slow, deliberate sip of his drink, Darren turned to Sophie McClain.


    "Sophie. I want to make you an offer."


    Her brow raised.

 Chapter 54: Crying Plea

    Laughter burst from the table, some of it lighthearted, some of it sharp-edged. Darren sat back, watching as the amusement played out around him.


    Sophie raised a perfectly shaped brow, swirling her wine glass between her fingers. "So let me get this straight," she said, a slow smirk forming. "You''re saying that if you get Ava Monroe to sign, my company will owe you?"


    Darren leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping against the table. "That''s the deal," he said simply.


    The laughter came again, louder this time.


    Tamara, who had been more composed, let out a small chuckle. "Darren, Ava Monroe is the biggest name in the city right now. Getting her to sign anything requires connections, power, and a whole lot of money. No offense, but I''m not exactly sure where you stand on that spectrum."


    Terry scoffed, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. "This is priceless," he said, throwing a hand in the air. "Look what I was saying. This guy is clearly living in La La land!"


    Alison didn''t say anything. She just stared at Darren beside her. ''Everything he''s told me so far has been authentic. Darren... Does he really know Ava Monroe? I mean she''s as big as there is. How can he get her to sign with Sophie''s company?''


    "Listen, Death Wish Darren, you''re really laying it on thick tonight, aren''t you? First, you waltz in here looking like you stepped out of a billionaire''s closet, now you''re making deals like you''re some big-time player?"


    Darren said nothing.


    Terry continued, unable to let it go. "Man, you must''ve saved up every last dime for this little stunt. What''s the next trick? You gonna tell us you''ve got dinner with the mayor next week?" He threw his head back and laughed, the sound obnoxious and sharp.


    Sophie, however, watched Darren more closely. ''What if he''s being serious right now? What if...''


    "Alright," she said suddenly, leaning forward with a smirk. "I''ll entertain this. If you actually pull it off, if you bring Ava Monroe in as my front cover sponsor, then yes, my company will owe you."


    Tamara turned to her, surprised. "You''re serious?"


    Sophie shrugged. "What''s the harm? It''s not like it''ll happen, right? And if it does, that''s a big win for me."


    Terry wiped at his eyes, still shaking with laughter. "Oh, this is gold," he said. Then, suddenly, his expression shifted. "You know what? Since Darren''s feeling so generous tonight, let''s make sure he gets to play the part properly."


    Darren looked at him without expression.


    Terry grinned wide and gestured toward the bar. "Hey, everyone! Eat and drink to your heart''s content! My good pal Darren Steele is covering the bill tonight!"


    A cheer rang out as waiters moved to take more orders. Sophie, Emily Tamara exchanged looks, and even Alison tensed slightly.


    "Thank you Darren!"


    "Darren! You''re the man!"


    "You rock, Mr Steele!"


    Darren didn''t flinch, merely watching as the wine kept flowing. Alison looked at him.


    "Hey, are you okay?" she whispered, placing her hand on his arm.


    Darren looked down at her. "Yes," he replied. "Nothing I can''t handle."


    Terry noticed this moment with narrowed eyes. ''Hmmm.''


    Eventually, the girls began to rise from their seats, stretching and adjusting their coats. They thanked Alison for inviting them, sharing hugs and goodbyes.


    "Well, Darren," Sophie said with a playful smile, pulling out her phone. "You better give me your number. If we''re going to become business partners, communication is important."


    Tamara chuckled, following suit. "I just want to keep in touch."


    Even Emily brought out her phone. "Same here."


    Darren glanced at all of them. Pretentious. Women were so pretentious.


    However, he agreed and they exchanged numbers. As they left, Sophie winked. "Thanks for dinner, mystery man."


    Darren barely reacted, just a handsome eyebrow raise.


    Terry, meanwhile, rose to his feet and turned to Alison, his grin dropping into sternness. "Meet me outside."


    Alison stiffened, hesitating. "Terry¡ª"


    "Now," he said, voice cold. "Don''t waste my time."


    A long pause. She and Darren exchanged a look and then she swallowed and nodded, rising from her seat and following him out.


    Darren sat still, waiting as the check arrived. The number was high, double digits in the thousands but he paid it without a word.


    Then, with a slow breath, he stepped out of the bar, while the female bartender stared at him in awe.


    "Hey. You''re the man, Darren!" Another customer said as Darren walked out.


    Darren glanced at him for a moment, and the man gave him a casual salute.


    Outside, he found Alison leaning against the wall, arms folded, her head lowered.


    She looked up as he approached, her gaze weary and sad.


    "So, you actually paid it off," she murmured. "You really are rich, huh?"


    Darren stopped beside her, studying her face.


    She let out a shaky breath. "Everyone is. Everyone except me." She lowered her head again, fingers gripping her coat.


    Darren took a step closer. "What''s your business with Terry?" His voice was gentle. "Was he the reason you invited me out here?"


    Alison hesitated. Then, after a long pause, she lifted her gaze to his, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I think... I think I need help, Darren."


    He waited.


    She swallowed, then finally confessed. "My life is a mess. And Terry... Terry said he''d help me if I did some things for him. And I..."


    She swallowed again. "I did. So he took money from Moon Enterprises. A lot of money. For me."


    Darren''s expression darkened. "Terry stole from his boss?"


    Alison''s voice dropped to almost a whisper. "He told me it was a fund for one of their private research projects. Two hundred thousand dollars. But he told me they wouldn''t be needing it for at least two years. So he redirected it. Used his access to reroute the funds and gave it to me."


    Darren''s jaw clenched. Two hundred grand. That was not pocket change. Not something the Mooneys would overlook.


    "Terry wants the money back because he said they''ve started sniffing around ." Alison wiped her hands over her face. "If they find out, Tyler and his father will eat him alive. And Terry... he''s terrified of losing his position under them. He told me if this ever gets out, if they come after him, he''s going to make me suffer for it."


    Darren grimaced. ''So even now, Terry''s still afraid of the Mooneys. Fucking bottom feeder.''


    Alison swallowed hard. "I just¡ªI just needed someone else here. Someone other than Terry. Just in case things got bad."


    She let out a shaking breath. "My life... Ngh... My life is just a complete mess. I''m worthless. I''m nothing. I''m not making a difference like you guys. I don''t know what I''m doing sometimes. Why I even bother waking up..."


    Darren''s gaze didn''t waver.


    She hesitated. Then, she looked up at him, her eyes wet with tears. "I know how I treated you in college," she whispered. "I was awful. I was a snob. I wasted my time on guys like Tyler and Jaxon. And now..."


    Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "Now I have no one." Her voice broke. "Not one person from back then even cares about me. But when I ran into you a few days ago..." Her lip trembled. "It felt like I was looking at hope. Like I''d seen hope face-to-face."


    She wiped at her eyes, sniffling.


    "I haven''t stopped thinking about you since then," she admitted softly.


    Darren didn''t move.


    She lowered her gaze once again. "I know I don''t deserve much from you. I don''t deserve anything at all, and I wouldn''t ask you to go out of your way to help me. But..."


    A shaky breath.


    "Take me with you."


    His brows furrowed slightly. ''To where?''


    She swallowed. "The College Reunion is at the end of this month," she clarified. "I can not face our classmates as the disgrace I am now. Please, Darren. All I want... is for you to take me with you."


    Stay tuned for updates on My Virtual Library Empire


    Darren said nothing.


    He merely looked down at her, silent eyes unreadable.


    And Alison waited.

 Chapter 55: Socrates

    Trust not a woman when she weeps, for it is in her nature to weep when she wants her will.


    Darren had Socrates to thank for teaching him that.


    He hoped he hadn''t been too harsh on Alison. He pitied her plight, really. But in the end, he felt she was undeniably using him.


    So he told her no. And he told her that holding on to the glories of her past isn''t going to make her feel any better. Gaining pleasure from nostalgia only makes one a ghost.


    Living in the present was what made us human. Alison had to face what her life was today, especially if she had any plans of it getting better.


    If she did this and became proud of who she was now. Then she could call him, and they could talk.


    Darren sighed, taking a sip of his wine. ''Who knew? Maybe I have some Socrates in me too.''


    ''And perhaps it sounds ironic coming from someone who''s literally reliving his past. But the difference is, my past is now my present.''


    He exhaled.


    ''Either way, telling her no was probably for the best. I''m not fond of the idea of being leeched on. Alison wants me to walk into the Reunion with her so she wouldn''t look alone, and now that I''m... well, a millionaire, that''s also some status for her as well.''


    He collapsed on his couch and picked up the remote. ''Not happening.''


    The TV screen flickered on and music blasted into the air of his living room.


    "It''s been a volatile month in the financial sector as Bitcoin ¡ª once again ¡ª proves why it remains the Wild West of investments. But this time, the chaos isn''t from a crash. Today we have finally decided to bring light on the mystery investor that has all crypto enthusiasts talking."


    Darren raised a brow. ''Mmm?''


    The camera panned to Brooklyn Baker, the poised and professional anchor of Business Everyday. She wore a tailored navy-blue suit, her expression tight as she continued.


    ''This chick again...'' Darren narrowed his eyes.


    "Indeed ladies and gentlemen, it has been a requested topic by many and we''ve finally decided to give him the publicity he''s so clearly after."


    "The individual operating under the absurd alias ''FuglyDuckling'' has broken records with aggressive Bitcoin purchases, triggering fluctuations in the market. This so-called investor has pulled vast amounts of BTC in a recent exchange, causing speculation and paranoia."


    She sighed, clearly unimpressed.


    "Experts are calling it reckless. Some believe this is the work of a new player trying to manipulate the market, while others claim it''s simply another fool who will learn the hard way why cryptocurrency is an unstable joke."


    Brooklyn''s lips pursed before delivering the final dig.


    "Whoever they are, one thing is clear ¡ªFuglyDuckling is either a financial genius... or an absolute idiot."


    "Just last week, the minor fall and then rise, and then fall again just proves the madness of this currency. It entails a jjookmcwesnk... jjftiol...


    Her voice faded off.


    The TV casted a dim glow on a new location; a sleek, modern office.


    A smoky voice sighed. "Will you look at that?They think he''s after publicity. Those fools can''t see that if that was the case then he wouldn''t keep his identity hidden?"


    The office settled into silence, save for the rhythmic tapping of fingers against a keyboard.


    Ryan Anders leaned back in his leather chair, fingers steepled, eyes narrowing at the man sitting across from him.


    Rico Evans.


    The hacker they had caught trying to breach their own systems. A man with quick hands and a quicker mouth. Since he was destined to go to jail because of it, his freedom depended entirely on one thing.


    Finding FuglyDuckling.


    Anders exhaled slowly. "I hope I don''t need to remind you what happens if you fail."


    Rico didn''t look up from his laptop, but the smirk on his face faltered.


    "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "I get thrown into a nice, cold cell and get to play chess with a bunch of guys who don''t like hackers."


    Anders didn''t smile. "More like you disappear, and no one asks questions."


    The tension thickened. Amelia, Anders'' secretary, stood near the desk, her arms crossed. She was watching Rico carefully, her sharp blue eyes unreadable.


    Rico sighed, rubbing his temple. "Look, I don''t want to go to jail. Who wants to? So I''m going to do everything possible. But I ain''t Jesus, I can''t do miracles. If I''m not able to track it, there''s nothing I can do."


    Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire


    "And I promise, it aint as easy as you think. Whoever this FuglyDuckling is, they''re smart¡ª real smart. Not only have they kept their wallet and personal details completely separate, but the firewalls they''ve set up is like a diamond wall. It''s almost like someone had attempted to hack into it before and it was multi-secured after."


    "Whoever that was by the way, fuck you. You''ve only gone and made my work harder. But the point is, that guy''s not a duckling. He''s a ghost."


    Anders'' fingers drummed against the desk. He glanced at Amelia then back at him.."Then why am I still keeping you around, Rico?"


    Rico raised a hand in surrender. "I said it''s difficult, not impossible." He turned the laptop around, displaying a series of numbers and data streams. "See this? I traced the most recent heavy Bitcoin transaction. The 1.5 million? It came from here."


    A beat.


    Anders leaned forward. Amelia did the same, glancing at the screen.


    The location flashed.


    Malegreen Street.


    Silence.


    "That can''t be right." Amelia frowned. "Malegreen''s just a working-class neighborhood. No one living there could afford to make moves like this."


    Anders studied the address, his mind racing. "Unless they don''t want to be found."


    He smiled deeply. "I''m in love with you, dear Duckling sir. You are one cunning man. One who hides his identity online and hides it as well in the real world."


    The idea made sense. A person secretive online could be just as secretive in real life. But who?


    Anders turned to Amelia. "I want everything on Malegreen Street. Property owners, renters, anyone who could be operating from there. Find out who the hell we''re dealing with."


    She nodded, already pulling out her phone.


    Meanwhile, Rico sat still, staring at the screen. His fingers twitched. A memory surfaced.


    Malegreen Street.


    He did know someone from Malegreen.


    Not just anyone. Someone who had been obsessed with crypto back in college. Always talking about blockchain this, decentralization that. Always saying if he had the money, he''d take over the market.


    But back then, he didn''t have a cent to his name.


    Anders turned back to Rico. "Get me a name, Evans."


    Rico forced a grin. "Working on it, boss."


    But as soon as he left the office, he pulled out his phone.


    It rang twice before the line clicked.


    A voice, smooth and familiar.


    "Rico?" A pause. Then, amusement. "Hey man, it''s been a long time, man."


    Rico exhaled, gripping the phone tighter. "Yeah, Darren... it has."

 Chapter 56: Business Plan

    Darren leaned against the kitchen counter, phone pressed to his ear as he listened to Rico''s familiar voice.


    "How you been, man?" Rico asked.


    "I''m good. Still breathing," Darren replied. "Honestly man, it''s been forever. You''re calling my old cell right now. I''ve changed it to a new one, I''ll send it to you later."


    "Alright. Hey, is that really you? Your voice sounds kinda... deeper."


    Darren chuckled. "I guess it''s been that long, huh? You know, I actually swung by looking for you once at DataForge, but you weren''t there."


    Rico paused. "DataForge? Why would you go looking for me there? I mean, I know the place."


    ''Ehhhhhh?!!! Shit.''


    Darren facepalmed. Right. He got the timeline wrong again. Rico hadn''t started working at DataForge yet. He needed to be more careful about these slips.


    They continued catching up, exchanging small talk about life and old times. Then Rico shifted gears.


    "You still living on Malegreen Street?"


    Darren hesitated, thinking it over. "Yeah. I do."


    Rico seemed to mull something over. Then he said, "Okay, okay. Maybe I''ll pay you a visit sometime. See you and your mom."


    Darren nodded to himself. "That''s fine. Just make sure to call first."


    A beat of silence. Heck, he sounds masculine and stern as hell. I know that''s a weird thing to say, but this doesn''t sound like the Darren I know at all.


    Oh well. Then Rico snorted. "As you demand, champ."


    "See you around."


    "Yeah. You too."


    The call ended. Darren lowered his phone and stared at it for a moment. Something about that call was... strange.


    It was pretty off-putting for Rico to call him out of nowhere like that, just to catch up.


    One could say that maybe Rico was in a tight spot and needed some cash. But Rico wasn''t dumb ¡ª would know that Darren wouldn''t be any much better than him when it comes to cash.


    So what was he up to?


    Did he know Darren was rich now?


    He clicked his tongue. "Tch. Always like hackers to be nosy."


    ''Speaking of hackers...'' he looked around. ''Where is Kara? She still hasn''t returned from the errand I sent her on.''


    Shaking off the thought, Darren walked to the fridge and grabbed a Tasties snack. He ripped the wrapper open with his fingers, took a bite, and settled onto the couch.


    ''I was hoping to watch Business Everyday to see if they had something informative about what''s going on in the business world, but all they ever talk about is Bitcoin, and now me. Jeez, their grudge with cryptocurrency isn''t going to do anything. Nothing is stopping Bitcoin''s rise.''


    He made himself comfortable. ''And mine alongside it.''


    "System, preview the information on how to set up my Crypto Investment Company. Let me go through it and study more. Once Kara gets back we''ll have to begin in earnest. I think we should start the month strong with a successful first week."


    A moment later, a sleek purple interface materialized in front of him.


    ---------------------------------------


    ©³SYSTEM INITIALIZATION: BUILDING A CRYPTO INVESTMENT COMPANY©¿


    ©³Objective: Establish a structured and legally sound crypto investment firm leveraging pre-knowledge of Bitcoin''s price trends.©¿


    ---------------------------------------


    Darren had come up with this business idea last month after his second Bitcoin purchase and after the system had explained Financial Paradox and other activities that he could use to his favor because of the regression.


    He planned to create an investment company which would have subsidiaries for crypto, real estate and solid investments.


    But he was to begin with crypto first, since it was where he had leverage. If he built it properly, he could then explore into the other subsidiaries.


    The system continued the explanation.


    -------------------------


    ©³PHASE 1: FOUNDATION AND PLANNING©¿


    ©³? Entity Type: Register as a Limited Liability Company (LLC) or Corporation for legal protection.


    ? Jurisdiction: Choose a crypto-friendly country or capitalize on present country where crypto is unpopular and become a pioneer. Use crypto-friendly countries for branches.


    ? Company Name: Select a trustworthy, imposing or catching brand ©¿


    ©³Legal Compliance:


    ? Obtain necessary investment and money transmitter licenses.


    ? Ensure adherence to AML (Anti-Money Laundering) and KYC (Know Your Customer) regulations.


    ? Hire a specialized legal team to draft contracts and protect company assets.©¿


    ©³Business Model:


    ? Charge a 2% management fee and 20% performance fee from investors.


    ? Target high-net-worth individuals, family offices, and institutional investors.©¿


    ©³PHASE 2: TECHNICAL INFRASTRUCTURE©¿


    ©³? Crypto Wallets: Secure tracking accounts through Ledger/Trezor.


    ? Trading Platform: Utilize Binance, Kraken, or Coinbase Pro for high-volume transactions.


    ? Software Development: Build a proprietary trading algorithm and real-time monitoring dashboard.


    ? Security Measures: Implement multi-signature wallets and hire cybersecurity experts to prevent breaches.©¿


    --------------------------------------


    That made Darren smirk. This was going to be airtight.


    --------------------------------------


    Read exclusive adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    ©³PHASE 3: HIRING AND TEAM BUILDING©¿


    ©³? CTO, CFO, Legal Counsel, and Marketing Director to handle operations.


    ? Traders, cybersecurity specialists, and investor relations managers for expansion.


    ? Enforce strict NDAs to protect proprietary knowledge.©¿


    --------------------------------------


    Darren had been thinking a lot about this part. Who to employ. He had some names in mind, but he would have to offer them catching incentives to bring them in from their present employers.


    --------------------------------------


    ©³PHASE 4: FUNDRAISING AND INVESTOR RELATIONS©¿


    ©³? Use personal funds to kickstart operations.


    ? Develop a pitch deck showcasing pre-regression Bitcoin market insights.


    ? Ensure investors pass KYC verification before onboarding.©¿


    ©³PHASE 5: EXECUTION AND AUTOMATION©¿


    ©³? Deploy automated trading bots for precise entry/exit points.


    ? Maintain multiple tracking accounts to diversify risk.


    ? Provide monthly reports to keep investors engaged.©¿


    ©³PHASE 6: SCALING AND EXPANSION


    ? Launch a professional website and establish an online presence.


    ? Introduce Ethereum and altcoin investment products.


    ? Expand to global offices in key crypto hubs.©¿


    ©³PHASE 7: RISK MANAGEMENT


    ? Prepare contingency plans for market crashes or hacks.


    ? Maintain emergency funds for operational stability.


    ? Diversify into stocks and real estate when crypto volatility spikes.©¿


    --------------------------------------


    Darren placed a finger on his jaw. "Most of these are very easy to grasp, but what I''m most interested in is for this company to be successful. And I mean staggeringly successful, System."


    He thought for a moment. "Can you show me some success indicators that I can check to know that my company is on the right path?"


    Ding! The Investor System responded;


    ©³Success Indicators:


    ? Consistent profitability


    ? Growing investor base


    ? Recognized authority in the crypto community©¿


    "Thanks!" Just as Darren leaned forward, ready to deep-dive into the financial structuring, a knock echoed at his door.


    He frowned.


    Who the hell would come unannounced?


    Standing up, he walked over and pulled it open.


    His eyes instantly widened at the person, standing there, staring back at him.


    It was the news reporter chick. Brooklyn Baker.

 Chapter 57: Lady and Gentleman

    To be honest, Darren wasn''t sure what he expected when he opened the door, but in over a thousand trials, he would have never guessed that it was the Business Everyday reporter, Brooklyn Baker.


    She stood on his doorstep, wearing a blue shirt with black plain office trousers.


    Her face was shot straight at his. She was staring at him, and with a serious but uncertain gaze like she was trying to make out his features.


    Her sharp brown eyes darted between his face and a photograph in her hand. She checked again, and again.


    "Darren Steele?" she asked, like she wasn''t entirely sure.


    Darren raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She squinted at the photo again, then back at him.


    "Yes, it is you," she confirmed, sizing him up with a subtle tilt of her head. "Taller than I expected."


    Darren leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You''re the reporter chick."


    The words itself was supposed to come with a mannerism of surprise. But Darren had just said it like he was reading a sentence.


    Brooklyn''s lips twitched at his dismissive tone. Straightening her posture, she responded formally, "Brooklyn Baker. I''m the head reporter for Business Everyday."


    Darren didn''t shift an inch as he studied her.


    She looked prettier in real life compared to the TV. Her blonde hair framed the sharp, inquisitive features of her face, and her brown eyes held a glint of relentless curiosity, scanning him as if she were already writing his story in her head.


    "Good for you," he replied.


    Her confidence didn''t waver. "May I come in?"


    "No," Darren said flatly. "You can stay just where you are, first of all."


    That threw her off, if only for a moment. She blinked, her confidence momentarily stuttering at his firm refusal.


    Darren''s eyes flicked past her, noting the white press van parked across his front yard, the Business Everyday logo plastered on the side. His jaw tightened.


    "You know, I just saw you on the news," he said. "Does that mean you''re not being broadcast live?"


    Brooklyn glanced over her shoulder at the van and then back at him, unconcerned. "Things like that are done all the time," she said smoothly. "I had a story to follow."


    ''A story.''


    Darren''s mind ran a hundred miles an hour. Was she already onto him? How? So fast?


    Did she know he was FuglyDuckling?


    He exhaled through his nose and deflected, tilting his head. "So you just admitted that news companies record broadcasts, then act like it''s live. That''s something serious to be telling a random person like me."


    Brooklyn smirked. "My broadcast team knows how to improvise to suit me." She folded her arms, exuding the smug arrogance of someone at the peak of their career. "I''m chasing a very big story, and somehow, in it, your name popped up."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. ''My name.''


    ''It''s sounding more and more like she''s figured it out. But I have to be careful. Don''t say anything until she tells you exactly what it is.''


    He kept his expression unaccessible. "I don''t talk to the press," he replied. "And how did you find me, anyway?"


    Brooklyn lifted her chin and shrugged proudly. "I''m good at my job."


    "That''s not a good enough answer." Darren narrowed his eyes. "How do you expect me to be content with that? What do you think this is? A movie?"


    He moved to close his door. "Now get out of my house, stalker."


    "Eh?!" Brooklyn''s confidence cracked. "Did you just call me a stalker?"


    Darren began closing the door.


    "No¡ª no way! I... I am not a stalker." She stammered, her usual arrogance slipping into something defensive and insecure. "I''m just good at investigating and tracking."


    Darren gave her a bland stare. "So are stalkers."


    Brooklyn''s eyes twitched. "Ahh. Ngh¡ª!" She clenched her fists. "Stop calling me a stalker. And stop closing your door in my face." She put a hand against it, holding it open. "Just give me a moment of your time."


    "No," Darren refused once more. "Leave me alone. I''m not interested in your antics."


    The door began to shut.


    "It''s about your former boss!" Brooklyn lifted her voice sharply. "Gareth Smithers."


    Darren''s fingers stilled on the doorframe.


    Checkmate. He''d just gotten her to spill out the reason she was here.


    Slowly, he pulled the door open again.


    Brooklyn straightened her blouse, regaining her composure. "He''s involved in a major scandal that''s become the talk of the business world. During my investigation, everyone I''ve spoken to said the same thing; it started with you. You were the first to successfully break out of his company unharmed early last month."


    Appearing to be calm, Darren looked down at her and asked. "So what do you want?"


    She sighed hopefully. "I just want an interview from the guy who defied Gareth Smithers."


    A beat of silence passed.


    Darren studied her for a while longer, then stepped aside and walked into the living room, leaving the door open.


    Brooklyn smirked in victory and gestured to her cameraman by the van, telling him to come on.


    When she stepped inside, she saw Darren pouring himself a glass of wine. "Camera guy stays outside," he said.


    Brooklyn turned back and made a slicing-neck gesture toward her crew. Abort. He scurried back to the van.


    Now inside, she took a slow look around the place, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood. The de?cor, the polished furniture, the loud elegance ¡ª it wasn''t what she expected.


    "This is a nice place," she admitted.


    "Thank you," Darren said, sinking into his couch. "You can take a seat."


    She sat on the opposite couch, still taking in the surroundings.


    "Maybe too nice of a place," she mused, her tone shifting. "Considering what I was told about you."


    They shared a gaze lock.


    Darren said nothing.


    Brooklyn''s lips perked up. "Do you own it?"


    He took his time answering. "My mother does." He lifted his glass and took a slow sip of wine.


    Smirking to herself, she studied him. Then, with a soft exhale, she said, "You didn''t even ask if I wanted a drink."


    Darren''s gaze was indifferent. "You didn''t think you''d be parched when you drove all the way here?"


    She pouted. "Not very gentlemanly of you."


    Darren''s facial expression didn''t change. "You weasel into a private street, demand your way into my home, and speak to me with condescension." He leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass. "You''re not being very lady-like yourself."


    Brooklyn smirked, though there was a flicker of irritation beneath it.


    Darren looked away from her nonchalantly.


    "Why should I be a gentleman to a woman who isn''t a lady?"

 Chapter 58: Smithers Scandal

    Brooklyn leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other as she studied Darren with sharp, calculating eyes.


    She was a reporter. She''d spoken to many people so it was easy not to take offense to somethings, but that one stung.


    "I do what I do for my job. There''s basically no risk I wouldn''t take for a good story."


    Darren exhaled through his nose. "And that''s exactly the problem with you journalists."


    Brooklyn tilted her head. "You don''t like journalists?"


    "It''s not that I don''t like you," he said, his voice flat. "I just know exactly what your kind does. Nothing you won''t do for a good story. That also includes lying and manipulating. For you people, truth means nothing when a headline is at stake."


    Brooklyn smirked. "You wound me."


    Darren said nothing, waiting for her to get to the point. But she wasn''t done poking around just yet.


    Her gaze flicked around the room before settling back on him. "However, I am fairly confused, Darren Steele.


    "This house. The car outside. This... street. You live on Malegreen Street. So I heard. You graduated from Brookfield University of Business and Literature. You took an intern-paying job under Gareth Smithers. I even heard you were dating his daughter, Lily Smithers." She leaned forward slightly. "But you broke up. The same day you left his company."


    Darren''s jaw tightened, but he kept his face neutral.


    Brooklyn arched a brow. "How does someone like you end up here in just a month? Were you a secret millionaire in disguise? Like in those Bollywood movie shorts?"


    Darren didn''t speak for a while, then he kissed his teeth. "When did this become about me? I thought you were here to ask questions about Gareth Smithers."


    Brooklyn smiled, lowering her head for a moment before looking up again. "You''re right. Sorry about that. My curiosity got the best of me." She met his gaze directly. "That''s another thing you hate about us, isn''t it? We can''t control our curiosity."


    Darren said nothing.


    Brooklyn took that as her cue to move forward.


    Her expression became more professional, more serious. "Before we begin," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small recorder, "I just need to let you know that this discussion is now being recorded."


    Darren glanced at the device, then gave a slight nod. "That''s fine."


    She clicked it on, placing it on the table between them. Then, she folded her hands together.


    "If you don''t mind, this is major news that still hasn''t fully come out yet. I ask that you keep it between us if you can."


    Then she began. "An employee of Gareth Smithers ¡ª whom I won''t disclose ¡ª came to me and made a report. Then, more reports started coming in. Numerous accounts of Gareth Smithers, exposing his tactics of capturing young talents straight out of university and locking them down with iron-clad, borderline slave contracts." She paused, gauging Darren''s reaction. "And more than that¡ª stealing their business ideas to grow his company."


    Darren sat still, his fingers loosely interlocked. But inside, his mind raced.


    A source she wouldn''t disclose.


    Could it be Sandy?


    In the former timeline, it was because of her that Smithers had entered a scandal. But this time... that wasn''t supposed to happen because she resigned earlier.


    However, Darren was the one that made that possible. He was the one who altered Gareth''s employment contract, making it easy for the employees to resign when they wished.


    Did that singular act cause a butterfly effect?


    Had his attempt to free himself simply opened the floodgates for everyone else to walk out and report the truth?


    He exhaled slowly. It didn''t matter. A bloated, self-centered man like Gareth Smithers was bound to fall into scandal eventually. It was his nature.


    Brooklyn continued, her voice lower now. "I haven''t disclosed this part to anyone else yet. But..." she hesitated, watching his expression carefully. "There have also been reports of sexual harassment."


    Darren''s brows lifted slightly. ''Sexual harassment?''


    His thoughts circled back to Sandy. That was exactly what she had accused Gareth of in the former timeline. But now she was no longer there...


    Could there be someone else in the office that Gareth would have harassed?


    Brooklyn watched him. "Everyone I''ve interviewed says it started with you," she said. "So how were you able to break free? How did you alter the contract that bound the employees so wickedly? And why did you do it?"


    Only a short hesitation before Darren responded firmly, "Look. I only did it because I realized I was being used."


    He exhaled, eyes momentarily distant. "One day, the next ten years of my life flashed before my eyes. In those ten years, I was shackled to Gareth Smithers. No growth. No freedom. No future." He met her gaze. "So I cut him loose immediately. And I did it without hesitation."


    Brooklyn''s pen scratched against her notepad as she wrote quickly.


    Darren continued. "To be honest, I wasn''t thinking much about others when I changed the employment contract. I didn''t even know it would extend to them as well. And I definitely didn''t know it would cause such a scandal."


    Brooklyn glanced up, intrigued.


    Darren watched her, taking note of how diligent she was. He realized that she really took her job seriously.


    "But that still doesn''t tell me how you managed to change the contract," she pressed.


    Darren thought back to the lawyer. The bribe. The information on a surefire investment that would rake in seven million dollars.


    Of course, he couldn''t tell her that.


    His lips pressed thinly. "I can''t tell you that."


    Brooklyn narrowed her eyes slightly. "But you are certain that Gareth Smithers has been stealing his employees'' ideas?"


    "Yes," Darren answered without hesitation.


    "Can you tell me how?"


    Darren leaned forward slightly. "Smithers would bring in employees: fresh graduates with ambition, just like me. He''d make them feel special. Then, he''d have them present business ideas, investment strategies, market predictions. Everything."


    His voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it. "And once they''d done all the work, he''d take their ideas, tweak them just enough to claim ownership, and turn them into profit. Meanwhile, the employees got nothing. No credit. No royalties. Even a pat on the back would have been nice. He makes it seem like it was what they''re hired for. And no, some of these guys are just errand interns trying to work their way up."


    Brooklyn nodded, scribbling furiously. "And I was told you were his biggest prize," she said after a moment. "Graduated top of your class. An excellent mind for business."


    Darren exhaled, his jaw tightening. "I presume so."


    Brooklyn tapped the end of her pen against the notepad. "An excellent mind for business." She studied him again. "Is that how you were able to afford this house in just a month?"


    Darren didn''t answer.


    Brooklyn smirked. "And what about Lily Smithers? Was it because of her father that you broke up with her?"


    A sharp tension filled the air. Darren''s expression darkened. His fingers flexed.


    "Alright. We''re done here," he said abruptly, standing up.


    Brooklyn frowned. "Just a few more¡ª"


    But he was already moving toward the door, pulling it open. His stance was firm, unwavering. "No. The interview is over."


    She tried to squeeze in another question, but he gestured toward the exit. Firm. Not aggressive. Not rude. Just final.


    Realizing she''d pushed too far, Brooklyn sighed and grabbed her recorder. As she stepped out, he slammed the door on her face.


    She grimaced. "Well, thank you for your time!" she yelled at him through the door.


    She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head, and sighing. "That was interesting."


    The cameraman gave her a questioning gesture.


    She flashed him a thumbs-up. He nodded and climbed into the van.


    Brooklyn lingered a moment longer, looking back at the door. She grinned.


    "Darren Steele," she murmured. "I thought you were just some insignificant boy who stumbled into an overwhelming situation. But you''re way more interesting than I thought."


    She turned and headed towards the van.


    "I''ll be keeping an eye on you, blue eyes."


    With that, she climbed in, and they drove off.

 Chapter 59: Shadow Deal

    There weren''t many offices as opulent as this one.


    It reeked of wealth and affluence, the very air thick with the scent of old money and power.


    Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a panoramic view of the city skyline, its twinkling lights illuminated the polished mahogany furniture with a glow of gold.


    At the center of the room was a vast, handcrafted desk that boasted of perfectly crafted gold inlays, its surface gleaming under the warm glow of an ornate chandelier.


    Plush leather chairs sat in invitation, and the scent of aged whiskey mingled with the faint trace of imported cigars.


    Every detail ¡ª marble floors, oil paintings of historic magnates, the quiet hum of an air purifier ¡ª whispered of a man who had clawed his way to the top and intended to stay there.


    But despite the grandeur, a visitor appeared to be having a bad hair day of sorts.


    Gareth Smithers looked anything but composed. He sat in a chair, his thick fingers drumming anxiously on the desk, his face pale beneath his neatly groomed blond hair.


    He grunted and rubbed his face. On his hand was a handwriting note with details of his recent scandal. Gareth was filled with unease as he exhaled sharply and said,


    "What do you think, Richard?"


    The man seated beside him barely moved at first.


    He exuded an effortless confidence, his presence commanding in a way that required no theatrics.


    Richard Morrison was in his early fifties, yet time had only refined him, not diminished him.


    He was a man whose charm came as naturally as breathing. He had features that women of any age would drool at the sight of.


    His face was strikingly symmetrical. He possessed sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline. His eyes were domineering and dark, always seeming to see more than they let on.


    He wore a tailored intricately crafted suit. Black with linings of regal blue, and cufflinks made of real silver.


    His voice, when he finally spoke, was smooth and deliberate, the kind that could sell a dream or a nightmare with equal ease.


    "A damn shame Archibald couldn''t see to this himself," he said with a soft sigh. "I have my own problems to deal with."


    His eyes moved to Gareth, seeing the fear in his eyes.


    "Well," Richard said, crossing one leg over the other, "it''s not ideal, Gareth. But it''s also not unsalvageable. The press is a beast¡ª it feeds on scandal, but it also gets bored quickly. The key is to redirect its hunger elsewhere."


    Gareth exhaled heavily, running a hand over his face once more. "Goddamn vultures. Those kids, those insufferable meddling kids. They want to ruin me. And those allegations are absolute lies! You know me, Richard."


    Richard tilted his head slightly, a blank look on his face. "Do I?"


    Gareth scowled. "Damn it, Richard. This could bury me."


    Richard leaned back, inspecting the cuff of his sleeve before answering. "It could. If you let it."


    Gareth heaved a sigh and sat back, tapping his feet on the ground restlessly. He eyed Richard Morrison and swallowed. To be honest, he was intimidated by the man. Greatly.


    Even though Archibald was richer and more powerful than Richard, Gareth still had a closer friendship with him because of his eruptive character.


    But Richard was too enigmatic for Gareth to figure out.


    He was no ordinary businessman. In fact, he had started as a doctor, a young and ambitious man who had once sworn to heal.


    But healing alone had never been enough, not when he saw the kind of money that passed hands in the world of medicine. He had built a reputation, a name, and then something far more valuable: influence.


    From his private practice, he had expanded into pharmaceuticals, then into medical technology. And then he invested in hospitals which led him into the world of business, taking him down the path of real estate and high-end security firms.


    His company was amongst the only three Empire Companies in Calivernia. Morrison''s Hospitals and Medical Group. However under his brand, Morrison''s?, he owned multiple companies.


    He owned Morrison''s Capital, an investment firm with assets exceeding $40 billion, making it one of the largest private equity firms in the state.


    Each quarter, Morrison Capital generated over $1.2 billion in revenue, with its real estate holdings alone spanning more than 50 commercial skyscrapers, 200 luxury properties, and 1,500 acres of prime urban land.


    Beyond finance, Richard controlled Morrison''s Biotech, a pharmaceutical giant valued at $60 billion, known for producing high-profit, patented medications.


    The company owned five private research labs, six major production facilities, and a chain of hospitals under Morrison''s Hospitals, which catered exclusively to the upper class.


    His pharmaceuticals dominated 45% of the prescription drug market in the state, ensuring that even the most powerful individuals relied on him for their health.


    Morrison''s Global Security, one of his subsidiaries, employed over 3,000 ex-military and intelligence personnel, operating in both domestic and foreign sectors. Several governors and senators owed their safety to Morrison''s men, granting him direct political leverage in state affairs.


    Even media was under his grasp. Richard held controlling shares in three major news networks, subtly shaping public narratives to suit his interests.


    His PR firm, Morrison''s Strategies, specialized in reputation management; silencing scandals, crushing political opponents, and elevating his allies.


    One of the three major news networks he had shares in... was Business Everyday.


    Richard was a multi billionaire. But even more than that, he was a force.


    And now, Gareth Smithers was sitting in his office, and he watched the man with amusement at the desperation in his eyes.


    "I could help you, Gareth," Richard finally said. "But... there''s something I need from you in return."


    Gareth frowned, leaning forward. "And what would that be?"


    Richard''s smile didn''t falter. "Your company operates as a hybrid investment advisory and financial escrow service, correct? You help investors determine where to put their money, hold their funds until a deal is solidified, and then distribute accordingly."


    Gareth nodded. "Yes, and?"


    Richard steepled his fingers. "I need a particular transaction to disappear. A rather large sum, moved discreetly, without a trace."


    Gareth''s eyes narrowed. "You''re asking me to launder money?"


    Richard let out a low chuckle. "That''s such an ugly word. No, I''m asking you to facilitate a business arrangement."


    He looked at Gareth carefully. "Do not act like this is beneath you, Gareth. I''ll feel insulted. A certain... asset of mine simply needs to move a substantial amount through legitimate channels. If your company were to oversee that transfer, ensuring no inconvenient eyes followed the trail, I''d consider your little PR nightmare taken care of."


    Gareth hesitated, weighing the risk. Richard''s influence was undeniable, but so was the danger of being caught in something like this. Still, if it meant survival...


    He inhaled sharply. "Fine."


    Richard''s grin widened. "Good." Then he turned his head slightly, his gaze flickering toward the third man in the room.


    "What do you think, Anders? Can you smoothen out this situation for your client? I give you the green light."


    Ryan Anders had remained silent until now, standing by the expansive window, hands clasped behind his back.


    He shared a striking resemblance to Richard, sharp features, a refined elegance, and an air of meticulous calculation. The sunlight reflected off the glass as he watched the cars drive by.


    His voice, when it came, was smooth but laced with distraction. "My time and efforts are rather preoccupied with finding a certain mystery investor who''s begun making waves in the rising cryptocurrency world."


    Then he turned around, his gaze locking onto Gareth''s. "But... I''m sure I can help you, Mr. Gareth."


    Gareth swallowed hard, glancing between the two men.


    "Good." Richard chuckled, unfolding a newspaper with a satisfied hum. "Very good."

 Chapter 60: Price of Silence

    The door opened and closed in a hurry. Gareth Smithers stepped out of the lavish office and rested his back on the door.


    He exhaled, long and deep, his shoulders loosening slightly. He had always been fearful of meetings with Richard Morrison, the man''s aura was really terrifying.


    But at least Morrison had given his word. This mess would go away.


    He sneered.


    ''Those bastards think they could tarnish my career.''


    The thought fueled his irritation. A bunch of disgruntled nobodies trying to pull him down? He had built Smithers Group into a financial juggernaut, an investment advisory firm that managed billions in capital, oversaw high-profile investment trends, and safeguarded financial transactions for the elite.


    His reputation was everything, and he wasn''t about to let it be destroyed by insufferable, meddling kids with their nai?ve sense of justice.


    This was going to go away. Nothing would happen to him. He reminded himself.


    But then, his thoughts drifted into what had happened back inside the office.


    Ryan Anders had leaned back against the window, his gaze as cold as the glass he looked through.


    His presence was deceptively relaxed, hands tucked behind his back, lips curled in a smirk that never quite reached his eyes.


    "Is there anyone who could testify against you?" Ryan asked. "Anyone that, if the media gets to, could give good reasons with evidence for some of the claims against you?"


    His tone was calm, casual even, but Gareth knew better. This wasn''t a question. It was a warning.


    Ryan''s fingers drummed lightly against the back of his hand. "Moon Wealth Management Offices can only manage your wealth and profile if you''re thorough. Tell me now so we can deal with them quickly. Settle them with a fitting price."


    Gareth had swallowed thickly. "I''ll think of names."


    Ryan had only smiled.


    Now, standing in the hallway, Gareth already had one name in mind.


    Darren Steele.


    That fucker.


    The one who had started all of this. The one who had given everyone the audacity to challenge him.


    If Darren hadn''t dared to resign, if he hadn''t been so insistent, the others wouldn''t have had the courage to come forward.


    Gareth''s jaw tightened. He needed Steele silenced.


    He turned to his left, where a woman stood in poised stillness, waiting for him.


    "Rachel."


    She stepped forward gracefully, her heels clicking against the marble floor.


    She was Rachel Teschmacher.


    Gareth''s stunning personal secretary.


    Rachel was the kind of woman that commanded attention with just her presence. She was breathtakingly beautiful.


    Not the soft, delicate kind, but the kind that turned heads and made men forget their words. The kind that terrified people, that made them know it was safe to only admire not speak.


    Her rich dark brown hair cascaded over one eye, giving her this enthralling style of mystery and seduction.


    Her face was flawless, full lips painted in a muted red, and her only visible eye shone silver-blue. An eye that rarely betrayed emotion.


    She was dressed in a fitted crimson blouse tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged every perfect curve, her toned legs accentuated by black stilettos.


    Rachel was very reserved and quiet. Many had these opinions of her in the office, calling her the Silent Witch.


    Not because she barely spoke, but also because whenever a conversation was going on, once she passed through, everyone would fall silent and stare or hide their faces.


    She looked at Gareth with quiet patience. "Yes, sir?"


    "Darren Steele," he said. "You remember that boy, don''t you?"


    Rachel''s expression didn''t change, but there was a flicker, a slight tension in the way she adjusted her stance. She folded her arms, lips parting as if to say something, then closing again.


    "Yes," she said finally. "I remember."


    Gareth spoke without care. "He lives in Malegreen Street. Lily will tell you the house. I want you to go there and reach a settlement with him."


    Rachel tilted her head slightly. "A settlement?"


    "Yes, a damn settlement! Keep his mouth shut," Gareth said bluntly. "Make him state a price, because I''m sure money is all a person like him needs. It''s what he wanted in the first place, right?"


    Rachel didn''t know if that was a rhetorical question. However, she still nodded her head.


    "But," Gareth continued, his voice dropping, "make sure he agrees and signs a contract to keep his mouth shut."


    Rachel held his gaze for a long moment. Then she gave a single, professional nod.


    "Understood. I will be on my way, sir."


    She turned on her heels and strode down the hall, almost catwalking in a fluid, controlled, walking style as her heels clicked rhythmically.


    ??????


    Meanwhile, in Malegreen Street, Darren Steele frowned as he stepped up to his front door.


    He hadn''t been here for a few days, but he was certain that he had locked the door.


    He pushed the door wider, stepping in cautiously, his body language tense. He scanned everywhere, but there was no one inside the house.


    No footprints, no signs of a struggle. But in his bedroom, his laptop was open.


    Darren cursed. What the hell happened here? He hurried to check the computer and as he expected, it was still locked.


    Whoever had come in had attempted, but was unable to open it.


    But then his eyes fell on something else.


    A receipt copy on the edge of the desk, almost out of his line of sight.


    It was a minor one for his property purchase in Greenbaby. He''d taken it to keep safe as well in this house, while the main copy remained in the mansion.


    Darren''s eyes narrowed.


    Was this how Brooklyn Baker had found him?


    His jaw clenched. He turned to his desk, fingers flying over his keyboard.


    "System," he muttered, "withdraw all available information on Brooklyn Baker."


    ©³Brooklyn Baker...©¿


    ©³...©¿


    This was a new Feature Darren had unlocked a few days ago called Personal Insight Protocol. It worked just the same as the one for companies, but gave in depth information on people rather.


    Seconds later, her profile appeared on his screen.


    ---------------------------------


    ©³Personal Insight Protocol is complete©¿


    ©³Information on subject is as follows©¿


    ©³Full Name: Brooklyn Andrea Baker


    Age: 28


    Occupation: Investigative Journalist, Senior Correspondent at Business Everyday


    Education: Columbian University, Journalism


    Awards: Pulitzer Prize Finalist, Investigative Journalism Award (2009), Truthseeker''s Honor Medal


    Address: 42 Pinecone Lane, Evergreen, CO 80439


    Phone Number: (303) 555-0127©¿


    -----------------------------------


    Darren scanned quickly through it all, and once he got her number, he dialed.


    Brooklyn was striding hastily into a tall brownstone building, a file clutched in her hand.


    She had been chasing leads all day, and this was her next stop. As her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out and answered without stopping.


    "Brooklyn Baker here. How can I help you?"


    "Did you break into my house?" Darren demanded.


    Brooklyn paused, checked the number and frowned.


    "Who''s this?" She then recognized the voice. "Is this Darren Steele? Ha¡ª" She chuckled. "How did you get my number?"


    Darren''s fingers clenched around the phone. "Did you break into my house? Did you search it? Is that how you found my new address?"


    She gave a soft, amused hum. "I don''t know what you''re talking about, Mr. Steele. But I am flattered that you went through the trouble of getting my number. Do save it. I''m saving yours."


    She ended the call before he could respond and slipped the phone back into her pocket. Her expression smoothed as she reached a door, rapping her knuckles against it.


    "Hello? Miss Sandy Meyers?" she called, tilting her head slightly to listen for movement inside. "I was hoping I could have a moment of your time."


    ¡ª


    Back in his house, Darren scowled, his fists clenching. ''If she was the one wh¡ª


    Knock. Knock


    His entire body went still. Thinking that could be the intruder returning, Darren quietly walked to the kitchen and grabbed a knife.


    The knock came again.


    He moved carefully, silently, blade in hand. Then, with a careful exhale, he cracked the door slightly open to see who it was.


    A woman.


    He opened it fully, hiding the knife behind him.


    Not just any woman, it was the Silent Witch standing before him, looking up at him with those sharp, unreadable eyes.


    "Hello, Mr. Steele," Rachel Teschmacher greeted.

 Chapter 61: Teschmacher

    Darren stood at his doorstep, his grip tightening around the doorknob, the knife still hidden behind him.


    If it wasn''t the intruder that was returning, he had at least expected it to be a lot of other things ¡ª a nosy neighbor, another journalist sniffing for a story, maybe even an old friend like Rico showing up unannounced.


    But the Silent Witch?


    Rachel Teschmacher?


    That was unexpected.


    However, there she was, standing on his small porch, poised as always. Her brown hair framed her sharp, attractive features, one eye obscured by a sleek curtain of hair.


    Even though they had not spoken or crossed paths that many times, Darren knew she was an extreme beauty.


    She had the kind of beauty that made men turn their heads without realizing it, a presence that commanded attention in any room.


    In a fitted blouse tucked into a high-waisted pencil skirt, she looked every bit the professional.


    And then there was that coldness in her eyes. As though she knew she was better than everyone else, or she cared little for anything except what she was told to do.


    "Hello, Mr. Steele," she said smoothly.


    Darren''s first instinct was caution. His house had already been broken into once, and now Gareth''s secretary was here, out of nowhere. That didn''t sit right.


    He folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "You''re Gareth''s secretary," he said. "Rachel."


    "That is correct." Though her face was mainly expressionless, Darren could see her glancing him over multiple times. She didn''t seem to recognize him that much with his new look.


    "What are you doing here?" he asked.


    "I just want to talk."


    "Talk?" he lifted a brow. "You and I have never spoken before and you show up here wanting to talk? What could we even talk about?"


    Rachel remained composed, hands clasped neatly in front of her. "I do not intend to be hostile."


    Darren studied her for a second, then he leaned back, understanding what could be happening. "Gareth sent you, didn''t he?"


    Rachel hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yes."


    Darren paused. He and Gareth Smithers had not had any sort of communication ever since that day.


    Clearly, if he was making a kind of threat, he would have sent men. But since he had sent an attractive woman such as his secretary, it meant she wasn''t here to threaten him.


    She was here to fix something. To give him an offer.


    Most likely, if he rejected this offer, Gareth would send Lily knocking on Darren''s door.


    Darren glanced past Rachel, checking the street. He didn''t trust that she had come alone.


    "I''m not letting you in until you tell me exactly what this is about," he said.


    Rachel sighed, as if dealing with a difficult client. "I assure you, this isn''t a trap. I just want a conversation. Nothing more."


    She held his gaze, unwavering, patient.


    Darren hesitated, then stepped aside. "Fine. Make it quick."


    She walked in, her heels clicking against the wooden floor, her eyes scanning the space as if taking mental notes.


    From her perspective, the place was modest and neat, certainly not the kind of house one would expect for someone going against a billionaire like Gareth Smithers.


    It was a family house, with all its memories etched in every corner of it. It made her feel a bit nostalgic as she remembered her own home.


    Darren shut the door and moved past her. He went to the fridge, but could only find water and a can of malt. "Drink?" he offered.


    "I''m fine."


    He took a bottle of water for himself and sat down on the armrest of his couch, watching her as she surveyed the room before finally turning to face him.


    Rachel always had a way of making things feel like an interview, even when she wasn''t holding a notepad.


    Darren lifted a brow. "You can take a seat if you want."


    "I''m fine," she said again.


    He leaned forward. "Alright. Talk."


    Smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in her skirt, she began. "You''re aware of the reports about Gareth."


    "Reports?" Darren feigned ignorance. "I''m not aware of it at all."


    Rachel''s eyes squeezed in slightly, like she was surprised by that answer. "Uh. Multiple reports have been made against Mr. Smithers, including plagiarizing young individuals and sexual harassment."


    Darren frowned. "Hm. First time I''m hearing that."


    Rachel wasn''t sure she believed that. "Either way, the press is going to come looking for you. Since, you were the first to... do what you did, they''ll want your opinion, your side of the story."


    She appeared more serious. "Darren Steele, You could help the scandal grow... or you could walk away with a generous offer."


    Darren scoffed. "Let me guess. Gareth wants to make this go away? A nice check to keep my mouth shut?"


    Rachel met his gaze. "Yes."


    The bluntness of it made Darren chuckle. "No hesitation, huh?"


    "There''s no point in pretending, Mr. Steele. Everyone has a price."


    Darren leaned back, studying her. She wasn''t flustered, not even slightly uncomfortable. She was here to do a job, and she was damn good at it.


    But she had miscalculated.


    "Except me it seems," he said simply.


    "What?" Rachel asked.


    "I don''t want the money," Darren replied.


    Rachel blinked, just once. If she was surprised, she didn''t show it. "You don''t want money?"


    "No."


    She tilted her head, assessing him. "Then what do you want?"


    Darren grimaced, looking down, then to his left and right, reliving memories.


    "What I want is for Gareth Smithers to get what''s coming for him. Every single one of those complaints, those reports, those allegations. He did it himself. And he should suffer the consequences."


    Darren then stared at her. "You know it''s true. And you should be disgusted to be aiding in covering up. I don''t care if he''s your boss."


    Rachel''s expression appeared to have changed for a moment. She lowered her head with something that appeared to be shame.


    Then, she took a slow breath and lifted her gaze to meet his. "You know," she said with a steady voice. "I was right about you."


    Her lips moved nervously. "I''m glad."


    Darren''s brow furrowed. "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    She looked down once again, and once she found more courage, looked up. With a little hesitation, she said¡ª


    "I was the one who made the sexual harassment allegation."


    Silence.


    Darren''s expression froze.

 Chapter 62: Trust and Promises

    The words hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. He felt overwhelmed for a moment, like he was a whirlwind of crazy thoughts.


    His mind struggled to process them, as if he''d misheard, as if his brain refused to accept the meaning behind them.


    He stared at Rachel, waiting for her to correct herself, to say she was joking, to say¡ª


    Anything but that.


    But then, it started to make sense. The way she was always alone. How she never interacted with anyone in office. It was always to Gareth Smithers'' office and out.


    Nowhere else.


    It wasn''t that difficult to believe. Office harassment most often involved the boss and the secretary.


    Darren blinked, now seeing Rachel in a completely different light.


    "You''re the one who reported him for sexual assa¡ª" His voice faltered before he could finish the word. His throat felt tight, breath becoming uneven. "Gareth assaulted you?"


    Rachel didn''t answer right away. Her posture was as reserved as ever, shoulders squared, chin lifted, as if she was forcing herself to remain composed.


    But the hesitation, the way her fingers curled into her palm, the way her lips pressed together, trembling slightly. It was all the confirmation he needed.


    Then, slowly, she nodded.


    Darren exhaled sharply. ''Gareth Smithers. You bastard.''


    His pulse pounded in his ears. A sickening mix of emotions swirled inside him: anger, disbelief, disgust, and something deeper, something heavier.


    It had to be resentment. Darren resented that piece of trash called Gareth Smithers.


    As angry as he was, he did his best to keep most of his concentration on Rachel.


    He studied her face, the way she held herself, the way she clenched her jaw as if bracing for something.


    "He didn''t just do it once, did he?" he asked softly.


    Rachel sucked in a shaky breath.


    And then, for the first time, she broke.


    Her expression cracked, her mask of cold professionalism shattering as tears welled in her eyes. The file in her hand fell.


    When she spoke, it was bloated out by a weak, choked sob. "No."


    That single word carried more pain than he could ever comprehend.


    She turned away slightly, as if ashamed, as if unwilling to let him see her in this state. But she spoke. She told him everything.


    How it started. How Gareth had taken advantage of his power, his influence. How he had trapped her, threatened her, made her feel small, helpless.


    Like usual, he''d made his threat to blacklist her in every company. He was a powerful man. She knew he could do it.


    She told Darren how every day she went to work fearing if he would do it again.


    She told him how she had tried to endure, tried to push through, hoping it would stop.


    But it never did.


    And no one ever noticed it. Those that did... The higher ups. They never questioned it.


    Because he was Gareth Smithers. Because he was powerful. Because men like him didn''t face consequences.


    "I felt... worthless." Rachel''s voice was barely audible now. "Helpless. And at the same time, I felt guilty because I believed that there was something I could have done. Maybe I should''ve been stronger. But... I just let it happen."


    Darren''s hands clenched into fists. He wanted to tell her she didn''t "let" anything happen.


    He wanted to tell her it wasn''t her fault, that Gareth was the one to blame. But he knew now wasn''t the time to interrupt.


    Rachel swallowed hard, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.


    "And then... you." She looked at him now, her eyes filled with something raw, something desperate. "You were the first to stand up to him. You actually escaped unharmed. And I knew from that moment on that I could do it too."


    "I might not act like it but I look up to you, Darren Steele. Like some symbol of hope. I know it''s cliche and stupid, but..." her voice faded away.


    Darren stared at her, still processing her words.


    "You''re not really here to get me to sign anything, are you?" he asked. Thankfully, his voice was calm.


    Rachel didn''t answer immediately.


    "I''m afraid to go back," she admitted. "And... I needed to know." She took a breath, steadying herself. "I needed to know if you''d take the deal. If you''d just accept it and walk away like everyone else. But you didn''t. I was right about you."


    Darren exhaled slowly.


    Ding! The system notified him.


    ©³This person is saying the truth©¿


    Ding!


    ©³This person wants to put their whole trust in you©¿


    Ding!


    ©³This person is desperate for your aid©¿


    He looked at her again, seeing not just the composed, professional woman she always presented herself as, but someone who had been suffering in silence for far too long.


    Then, she whispered, voice breaking¡ª


    "Please help me, Darren. I don''t want to go back there."


    She had held back for so long, but now the dam had burst. She broke down completely, silent tears turning into sobs.


    Darren didn''t even think.


    He stood up, walked toward her, and before he could stop himself, he covered her with his arms.


    Rachel stiffened at first, shocked. She hadn''t expected this¡ª neither had he.


    But then, slowly, she sank into the embrace, clutching his shirt as she cried.


    "You''re the only one I''ve told," she whispered.


    Darren looked down at her, his expression firm.


    "And you''re one of the only people to judge me by character. To you, I don''t have money or any kind of power, but you trusted my character to help you."


    She raised her head and looked into his stern blue eyes.


    "I have nowhere else to go," she admitted. "Gareth is a powerful man, and he has even more powerful friends. He''ll find me."


    Darren pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her own eyes.


    "That doesn''t matter," he said with a resolute tone. "What he did to you is wrong. Horribly wrong. And I promise you, I''m going to make him pay for it. But for now, my first promise is that you''ll never have to see him again. You''ll never have to work there. You''ll never have to do anything he says."


    Rachel looked at him, confused. "Darren? What do you mean? I... I''m still employed to him by contract¡ª"


    "That''ll be handled by tomorrow," Darren said. His tone left no room for argument. "You''re here because you believed I could help you. That is what I''ll do. But first, I need you to trust me."


    He looked at her with fierce determination in his blue gaze. "Rachel, do you trust me?"


    She gazed at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation.


    Then, finally, she answered.


    "...Yes. I trust you."


    Darren nodded. "Good. Because as long as I''m with you, no one is going to touch you."


    --------


    A/N: I''ve been thinking of a mass release. How about once we reach the goal of 100 Golden Tickets in the next five days. Reward is a ten chapter mass release.

 Chapter 63: Instigator Brooklyn

    "Mrs. Meyers, please! Just a moment of your time, that''s all I''m asking for."


    Brooklyn Baker stood outside a modest, neatly kept apartment, her knuckles rapping firmly against the wooden door.


    It was the fourth time she had knocked and yet there was no answer. Heaving a breath, she adjusted her blazer and checked the time.


    Still no response. She knocked again, a little harder this time.


    Finally, the door creaked open.


    A woman stood there, barely peeking out. Sandy Meyers. She looked fairly young for her age of thirty-three. Shoulder-length auburn hair, deep brown eyes.


    She appeared exhausted. Not physically, but there was a weariness in her expression that Brooklyn instantly recognized¡ª someone who had seen too much and was tired of pretending otherwise.


    Nevertheless, Brooklyn also couldn''t deny that she was a stunning woman. Even with her hair all messy she looked beautiful.


    Sandy blinked at her, expression cautious. "Can I help you?"


    Brooklyn kept her voice neutral. "Sandy Meyers? My name is Brooklyn Baker. I''m a journalist with Business Everyday. I''d like to ask you a few questions. Just a simple interview."


    Sandy''s fingers tightened slightly around the doorframe. Her voice was wary. "About what?"


    "Gareth Smithers."


    A flicker of something crossed Sandy''s face. It wasn''t surprise.


    She''d been expecting this to catch up with her eventually. Not speaking, she stood there for a while, staring at Brooklyn.


    Brooklyn waited. She''d seen this reaction before: people deciding if they should open the door or slam it shut.


    Finally, Sandy exhaled. "Fine. Come in."


    Brooklyn stepped inside, scanning the apartment quickly. It was tidy but lived-in.


    A small living room with an old but comfortable-looking couch. A wooden coffee table stacked with financial reports and a laptop. No decorations, no unnecessary clutter. Just the essentials.


    It felt very feminine with the colors and the arrangement of appliances.


    A place of function and a woman''s comfort.


    "Sit wherever," Sandy said, closing the door. She didn''t sound enthusiastic, but she didn''t sound like she regretted letting Brooklyn in either.


    Brooklyn chose the armchair across from the couch, pulling out her recorder. "Just so you know, I''m recording this conversation."


    Sandy shrugged as she sat down. "Doesn''t matter."


    Brooklyn got straight to it. "Are you aware of the numerous allegations against Gareth Smithers?"


    Sandy''s lips pressed into a thin line.


    Brooklyn continued. "Accusations of plagiarism, of locking employees into unfair contracts, of stealing their work and discarding them. And..." she paused, watching Sandy''s reaction, "two allegations of sexual assault from former female employees."


    Sandy exhaled through her nose. "Yeah," she said. "I''m aware."


    Brooklyn''s eyes narrowed. "How?"


    Sandy met her gaze. "Because I was the one who started them."


    Bullseye!


    Brooklyn''s pulse quickened, but outwardly, she remained composed. ''My instincts had been right. I knew there was something about Sandy Meyers that warranted questioning. And now, I''ve hit a jackpot.''


    She leaned forward slightly. "You were his financial secretary, Miss Meyers. Your voice carries power here. Tell me everything."


    Sandy let out a slow breath, running a hand through her hair. "I worked for Gareth for six years. Secretary of finance... as you know."


    She sighed. "What you don''t know is what it''s like to watch brilliant young people come in, full of ideas, creativity, and passion, only to have it all drained from them?"


    Her voice quickly sounded bitter. "I saw it happen over and over. They were chewed up and spit out. Their work stolen. Their names erased. And if they dared to leave? Contracts bound them. They weren''t allowed to criticize the company. Some weren''t even allowed to work in their field for months after quitting."


    Brooklyn didn''t react. She just listened and wrote.


    Sandy sighed. "At some point, I got...numb. Watching it made me depressed. What could I do? I was locked into the same contract. I had no power. No leverage."


    "And then, one day, he hired this Business and Finance graduate for an intern position. Darren Steele."


    Brooklyn''s brows perked. "Darren Steele?"


    Sandy nodded. "Yeah. Are you familiar with him?"


    Brooklyn didn''t confirm or deny. "He''s a... person of interest."


    A small, tired smile flickered on Sandy''s lips. "Figures."


    She leaned back. "Darren was no different at first. He was excited to be there. But, he stood out from every other one because he was the smartest guy I''ve ever met."


    "He knew numbers... I mean, like crazy. He knew money, investments, graphs ¡ªeverything. He was brilliant. And he cared. He wanted to do something with all that knowledge, make real changes. I was afraid he''d get crushed like the others."


    Unknown to her, he actually did get crushed. At least in another timeline.


    Brooklyn stayed silent.


    "But then he did something no one else had ever done." Sandy''s expression turned almost amused. "He found a way out. He somehow altered the contract and freed himself. Just like that. No lawsuits. No battles. He just...walked away."


    "The moment he left, the cracks started showing. Others realized they could do it too. I left first. Then the others followed. And once I was free, I sent a letter to The Whispering Press with everything. Every name, every case of theft, every young person Gareth had used and thrown away." She paused. "I guess they handed it over to you guys at Business Everyday."


    Brooklyn absorbed the information, her fingers danced on the paper till she rose her head again.


    "This contract alteration... How did Darren do it?" she asked.


    Sandy blinked, taken aback. "Out of everything I just told you, that''s what you''re asking?"


    Brooklyn remained unfazed.


    Sandy scoffed, shaking her head. "Do you even care? About any of this?"


    Brooklyn shrugged. "It doesn''t matter if I care or not. My job is to report the news as it is."


    Sandy''s jaw tightened. "That''s all this is to you?"


    The reporter sighed, rubbing her temple. "Look. Miss Meyers."


    "Sandy." Sandy corrected her.


    Brooklyn sighed. "Sandy. I''m a reporter. I don''t bring justice to people. I report what''s already happening. Now, if the law officials decide to act on it once I bring it to light, then good for you."


    Sandy''s eyes darkened. "Good for me? You heartless woman. Get out. We''re done here."


    Brooklyn didn''t get up. Instead, once Sandy got close enough, she stopped her with a question.


    "You admire him, don''t you?"


    Sandy instantly stiffened.


    Brooklyn smirked. "Darren Steele. The way you talk about him. You clearly admire him. Dare I say you like him more than you let on."


    Sandy''s expression hardened. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    Brooklyn pouted. "How did he get so rich so fast?"


    "What?"


    Brooklyn''s eyes narrowed. "Oh... So you don''t know." She tilted her head, watching Sandy''s reaction carefully. "Darren Steele has a million-dollar mansion now. A luxury car worth even more. He never told you? Doesn''t he hold you in the same regard that you hold him?"


    Feeling stung by that, Sandy chuckled after, though it wasn''t out of amusement. "You''re good," she said, shaking her head.


    "As a reporter. As an instigator. Poking me, reading my reactions, pushing just enough to get more. But let me ask you something." She leaned in smugly. "Are you this curious because you want to uncover the truth, or because you want to know more about Darren?"


    Brooklyn frowned.


    Sandy smirked. "I think you''re the one who likes him more than you let on."


    Brooklyn''s face remained unreadable for a second too long. Then, abruptly, she stood up.


    "You don''t know what you''re talking about."


    She turned for the door but stopped. Then, she took a deep breath, turned back with a big, formal smile on her face.


    "Thanks for your time, Miss Meyers."


    And with that, she left.


    Sandy stood there, staring at the door long after it closed. Only one thought was in her mind:


    ''Darren is rich?''

 Chapter 64: Golden Hay Hotel

    The next day, early that morning, in the headquarters of Smithers Group, Gareth Smithers paced back and forth in his spacious, mahogany-lined office.


    He was grunting and muttering to himself. His fingers twitched with irritation as he pressed the call button on his office phone for the tenth time that morning.


    The sharp, rhythmic beeping that signaled an unanswered call rang in his ears like an unbearable siren.


    Still no response.


    Gareth''s jaw clenched as he grabbed his personal phone, quickly going through his messages.


    ¡ª Where the hell are you?


    ¡ª Why haven''t you returned with news?


    ¡ª Did Darren Steele accept the settlement?


    ¡ª ANSWER ME, RACHEL.


    Nothing. Not a single reply. His secretary had been completely off the grid since he sent her on an errand yesterday.


    It was unheard of. Unacceptable. Disrespectful. No one ever dared disrespected him before.


    What''s this going on? Why did it feel like his company was crumbling right before his eyes?!


    Gareth''s grip tightened on the phone. His patience, already threadbare, finally snapped.


    "WHERE IS MY SECRETARY?!" he bellowed, slamming his fist on the polished oak desk. The impact sent a pen holder clattering to the ground. He hit redial¡ª again. The call went straight to voicemail.


    Gareth seethed, chest heaving, face burning red with fury. He sent another furious text, then another. His thumbs pounded against the buttons of his Nokia like they were trying to shatter it.


    Then a dark thought crept into his mind.


    Had Darren Steele done something to her?


    That bloody fucker! That meddling pest! That bastard! Steeeleee!


    The old man could not control his rage.


    The idea of it alone sent his blood pressure skyrocketing. He grabbed the phone, raised it above his head, and hurled it against the wall.


    CRASH!


    The device shattered into pieces upon impact, a spray of plastic and glass scattering across the office floor.


    A guttural growl tore from his throat. His hands curled into fists, his nostrils flared, and his body trembled with rage.


    Then, his eyes snapped toward the door.


    "LILY!" he roared. "GET IN HERE! NOW! LILY!"


    ??????


    All the way on the other side of the city, a beautiful hotel stood amongst other buildings.


    The Golden Hay Los Alverez Hotel was a symbol of wealth, luxury, and exclusivity. Situated near the heart of Los Alverez, Calivernia, this branch of the prestigious Golden Hay hotel chain catered only to the elite.


    Its grand entrance was adorned with towering marble pillars, and an expansive, red-carpeted driveway stretched before it, where black sedans and Rolls Royces pulled up to deliver their distinguished guests.


    The revolving glass doors led into a lobby bathed in golden light, where a massive chandelier dangled from the vaulted ceiling, its crystal facets catching the light like a sea of diamonds.


    The reception area was lined with sleek black counters, where elegantly dressed concierges attended to guests with practiced smiles. Plush velvet sofas were scattered throughout, occupied by men in tailored suits and women draped in designer gowns.


    A single room in this hotel did not come cheap. Here, a standard suite cost nearly $2,500 a night, and the penthouses?


    Well, those were reserved for millionaires and foreign dignitaries willing to shell out tens of thousands for a single stay.


    Inside one of the lavish suites, Rachel Teschmacher sat on the edge of a king-sized bed, her fingers trembling slightly as she clutched her phone.


    Her dull blue eyes were locked on the screen, where Gareth''s name appeared over and over again in missed calls and unread messages.


    ¡ª Where are you?


    ¡ª You better pick up NOW.


    ¡ª Come back. Or else.


    Her lips parted slightly, her breath uneven. The threats were unspoken but clear. Gareth was growing impatient.


    Gareth had warned her before the things he could do if he ever betrayed her. She knew them all. And that was what terrified her.


    A sharp knock on the door made her jolt.


    She looked up, and there stood Darren Steele.


    The tension in her shoulders eased just slightly. Seeing him was like an ice cube falling into boiling water, melting her fears away.


    She walked to him and lifted the phone, showing him the screen and the relentless calls and messages.


    "He won''t stop calling, and texting. I don''t know what to do."


    Darren''s face was expressionless.


    He took the phone from her hand, looked at the screen for a second, then without hesitation, let it slip from his fingers.


    The device hit the marble floor with a crack. Then, still saying nothing, he brought his shoe down and crushed it beneath his heel. The crunching sound echoed in the room.


    Rachel gasped, her eyes widening. She wanted to ask what he was doing but Darren spoke.


    "I''ll get you a new one," he said flatly. His voice was subtle. "I don''t want you seeing anything that''ll make you worry."


    She gazed up at him, her heart pounding.


    He had been the one to bring her here, to hide her away in this hotel, knowing full well that Gareth would have sent people to search her home first.


    There were many other hotels in the city too, but it felt like Darren had methodically picked this one.


    Perhaps, there was something about this one. Most of the hotels in the city did in one way or the other connect to Archibald Mooney and Richard Morrison, who were both Gareth''s allies.


    Darren must have had his reasons for picking this one.


    ---


    Down in the hallways of Golden Hay, a group of sharply dressed businessmen strolled with a young boy at the center.


    The boy, no older than twenty-two, looked slightly overwhelmed as the men guided him through the hotel corridors.


    "This is one of your properties now, Grant," one of the men told him with a smile. "The Golden Hay Los Alverez is just one of many."


    "Your father built an empire," another added. "Now, it''s your turn to take charge."


    Grant Hayes nodded hesitantly, his gaze shifting around the grand hallway, taking in the opulence of the hotel he now owned. The chandeliers, the polished floors, the towering windows¡ª it was all his.


    It had happened in a rush. His father suddenly dying and all he owned being placed under his name. Grant wasn''t even a business major. He feared that he didn''t know what he was doing and was going to let his father down.


    As they rounded a corner, his eyes landed on a figure standing by one of the room doors.


    A man.


    Brown, neatly combed hair. Sharp posture. A stance that carried an air of quiet authority.


    Grant squinted slightly, his steps slowing. There was something familiar about him.


    ''Where have I seen this guy before?''


    The answer was on the tip of his tongue.


    Maybe if he got closer he could see who the man was.


    Darren, oblivious to the men approaching his room, had his focus on Rachel. "Can I come in?" he asked her.


    "What?" Rachel stared at him. "Of course. Yes."


    Darren stepped inside, closing the door behind him.


    No wait! The door closed just as he got close enough. Grant was only able to see the room number.


    His companions kept talking, their voices blending into the background. But his thoughts were elsewhere.


    ''I''m not so sure... but that looked like the same man from the casino.''


    Grant''s brow furrowed, head low.


    ''Was it really him?''

 Chapter 65: Secretary

    Now inside the elegant hotel suite with her, Darren stood in silence, his gaze fixed on Rachel.


    He looked at her for a moment, studying her carefully. Even though it has been almost a full day since she left Gareth, Darren could see she was still panicky.


    He saw the way her fingers tapped continuously on the back of her palm, the way her chest rose and fell in controlled breaths, but most of all, the uncertainty in her eyes. Despite her calm exterior, he could see it. Fear.


    "You look scared," he finally said with a low and deliberate voice low. "You shouldn''t


    worry. I told you to trust me."


    Rachel''s lips parted slightly before she gave a small nod. "I do trust you."


    Darren''s eyes lingered on her for a moment.


    He said nothing more and shifted his attention to the room.


    The suite was spacious, designed with luxury in mind¡ª dark wood furniture, cream-colored walls, a grand king-size bed with plush bedding. The soft glow from the chandelier overhead gave the place an inviting warmth.


    "How do you like it?" he asked. "Did the men bring your luggage in fine?"


    Rachel nodded. "Yes. They were professional. The room is beautiful, Darren. Thank you. Really."


    "Good," he said. "It''s important that you like it. After all, this is where you''ll be staying for a while until everything dies down."


    Rachel hesitated. "For how long?"


    "A month, at least. I thinking that''s enough time until this matter has been put to bed. I''ve already paid for it, you''ll have nothing to worry about."


    His tone was so dominant and decisive, like he had taken change over her life, controlling every problem she had, and leaving no room for argument.


    Not like she wanted to argue.


    "Those men you saw? They''ll serve as your bodyguards."


    "Bodyguards?"


    "Yes. They''ll be here at all times, and whenever you leave, they''ll be close by as well. But you must make sure you''re here always, Rachel. It''s impossible."


    Rachel nodded affirmatively and exhaled, processing everything.


    "Smithers will come looking for me soon, demanding where you are since he''d sent you to me," Darren continued. "And when he does, I don''t want you anywhere near that situation. I think it''s best that you''re not near him for now. You understand?"


    She swallowed hard. "Yes. I understand."


    Darren''s sharp eyes settled back on her. He thought about a few things before he spoke.


    "Before I smashed your phone," he asked, "had you already called anyone important? A loved one, family member... anyone who could worry if they came looking for you at home and couldn''t find you?"


    Rachel nodded. "I called my mother. And a few friends."


    "Good," Darren said simply. "They won''t panic, then."


    Silence filled the space between them fo a moment. For Rachel, she couldn''t help the numerous emotions sizzling through her.


    Her gaze stayed on Darren, studying the man before her. For so long, her curiosity had lingered, questions brewing in her mind.


    Instead of asking them, she''d just obeyed submissively, accepting his help without questions like any thankful person would do.


    But there were still many questions, such as; How was he doing all this?


    The luxury hotel, the security, the seamless planning¡ª none of it made sense. And she couldn''t hold her curiosity back anymore.


    Darren was here now, so what better time to ask him?


    "Darren... Can you tell me how?" she finally asked. "I am trying to make sense of it but how are you able to do all this?"


    Darren turned his gaze to her, calm and reserved in his expression.


    "This hotel is... extremely expensive," Rachel pressed. "The men, the transport... How. You were an intern just last month."


    He stared at her for a long moment before offering a cryptic response. "You''ll find out soon."


    Rachel frowned but before she could push further, Darren spoke again.


    "I was curious though... You''ll need a job, right?" he said casually with one raised brow. "Since you''re no longer working for Gareth."


    Rachel blinked, caught off guard. "...Yes."


    Darren crossed his arms. "How about this? You become my secretary."


    Her breath hitched. "Your secretary?"


    "You wouldn''t need an interview," Darren continued thoughtfully, appearing almost nervous.


    "I already know how good you are at your job. I trust your judgment and your skill. I could give you the position immediately if you want it."


    Rachel''s heart pounded. She hadn''t even considered her next career move yet¡ª.hadn''t even figured out what her future looked like after resigning.


    But even with all of this, the moment Darren offered the position, something inside her lit up.


    She didn''t even know what business he was running. Or if there even was one. But it didn''t matter.


    Rachel Teschmacher didn''t hesitated.


    "Yes!" she said breathlessly.


    "Huh?" Darren was surprised at how easy that was.


    "Yes! Yes, I''ll be your secretary!"


    He stared into her excited dull blue eyes, saw the way it glistened at the sight of him.


    Ding! The system sang.


    ©³This person feels indebted to you.©¿


    ''Is that why she''s doing this? Because she feels indebted because I helped her?''


    Ding! It came again.


    ©³This person is very loyal to you.©¿


    ''Oh.''


    Darren''s expression flickered with surprise at her enthusiasm.


    To be honest, he had expected a bit of hesitation, at least. Instead, she had accepted immediately, almost desperately.


    "That''s great to hear," he said, watching her closely. "Frankly, I was almost worried you wouldn''t accept."


    Rachel laughed. She had a beautiful reserved laugh. "Are you kidding? Who else would I rather work for at this moment if not you?"


    Gazing at her, Darren''s face broke to a rare smile.


    Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. The smile vanished and he withdrew the device, glancing at the caller ID before answering. "Yes?"


    A voice on the other end responded. "Mr. Steele, the building you inquired about? It''s ready for inspection. We are awaiting your presence to speak."


    Darren nodded. "I''ll be there soon."


    He hung up and turned back to Rachel. "I have to leave. The building I''m purchasing for the company is now available for me to review and finalize."


    Rachel''s expression shifted into deep thought. Then, as Darren moved toward the door, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his hand.


    "Wait!"


    Darren stop and turned to face her, seeing a determined expression on her face.


    "I want to come with you," she said.


    His brows raised. "No. It''s too risky."


    "I need to be there," she insisted. "I''m your secretary now. I''ve handled property purchases before. I know how to manage these things. You''ll need me there."


    Darren considered her words. ''She isn''t wrong. Bringing her along could be good practice before the company officially starts operations.''


    "...Alright," he relented. "But stay close to me at all times."


    Rachel looked up at him, a quiet intensity in her eyes.


    "I will never leave your sight, Mr. Steele."


    They shared a lock of gazes for a moment longer before he pulled her towards the door.


    "Let''s go."

 Chapter 66: Helios Dome

    Arriving at Meravaurd Avenue, Los Alverez, Darren stepped out of the car, lifting his gaze to the large dome-like structure before him.


    It was a bright afternoon and the sky was painted in hues of bright blue and white, evidence of daylight clinging to the horizon.


    The glass dome scraper stood like a monolith, it was not very far from the hotel, and also not far from another property Darren had been considering.


    More importantly, it was in Meravaurd Avenue, one of the most expensive business districts in the city.


    It was called The Helios Dome.


    A sleek masterpiece of modern architecture, its glass fac?ade gleamed under the setting sun, reflecting the cityscape like a distorted dream.


    Unlike the other corporate towers around it ¡ªbuilt with sharp, imposing edges ¡ª The Helios Tower had an almost fluid design, curved to create a dome like design.


    Because of this, it spiraled slightly as one ascended, giving the illusion of movement. It wasn''t tall, but the glass was completely reflective, avoiding others from peering through, and the roof made it almost appear to be a stadium.


    Rachel stepped beside him, her gaze locked on the structure. She didn''t speak for a long moment, merely studying it, as if confirming something in her mind.


    Then, in a voice smooth and calculated, she said,


    "The Helios Tower. The pride of the Los Alverez Skyline Project. Originally commissioned a decade ago, but the original investors backed out due to financial instability. The city took it over, and after several hands, it was finally completed two years ago. State-of-the-art facilities, high-speed elevators, reinforced glass panels to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes. The cost?"


    She turned to him, her sharp eyes gleaming. "More than a hundred million dollars. That''s just the base price. Renovations? Additional millions. Darren, are you really intending on buying it?"


    Darren didn''t react to the price. He simply tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "Yes."


    Rachel exhaled, almost in disbelief. "It''s an empire disguised as a building, Darren." Her voice was steady, but there was something in it¡ª curiosity, admiration.


    The seller, a short man with a greying beard and an expensive suit, approached them with a tight-lipped smile. His name was Mr. Graham of the top real estate brokers in the district.


    "Mr. Steele," he greeted, offering a hand. Darren shook it briefly.


    "And Miss...?" The seller turned to Rachel.


    Rachel gave a sharp gaze. "Not Miss. I''m Rachel Teschmacher."


    "She''s my secretary," Darren explained.


    "Ah," Mr. Holloway chuckled, his gaze flickering to Darren. "A young man like you, purchasing one of the most expensive commercial properties in Los Alverez? Impressive. I must admit, when I first saw your offer, I assumed there was a mistake. Usually, men in your... position tend to lease first."


    Rachel''s entire demeanor shifted.


    Her head tilted slightly, her expression instantly turning to ice, then she spoke with a gentle voice that sent a chill through the air.


    "I''m sorry, men in his position?" she repeated. "Are you being condescending to my boss, Mr. Graham?"


    The seller hesitated, taken aback. "I simply meant¡ª Mr. Steele looks quite young. The Helios Dome is not just an expensive property; it''s a high-risk investment. It''s rare for someone his age to make such a move without financial backers."


    Rachel''s gaze darkened, but she didn''t raise her voice. "If youth is an issue, Mr. Graham, then perhaps I should remind you that the Zurich Firm, one of the leading financial conglomerates in this district, is run by a CEO two years younger than Mr. Steele. Perhaps you''d like to tell them their ''position'' is inadequate too?"


    Mr. Graham stiffened, his smile faltering. "I¡ªof course not, Miss Teschmacher."


    Darren, watching the exchange, was mildly surprised.


    This side of her¡ª this ruthless precision, this cold, commanding presence¡ª was what most people were used to. Yet, after seeing her vulnerable and uncertain just a few hours ago, the contrast was almost startling.


    She didn''t merely defend him. She annihilated the slightest doubt.


    For the first time in a long time, someone stood in front of him, not behind him.


    He sighed, although ecstatic. "It''s fine, Rachel. I''m sure Mr. Graham meant no disrespect." His eyes darkened at the man. "Right?"


    Mr. Graham chuckled nervously. "Yes. I meant no harm at all."


    He cleared his throat and gestured toward the building. "Shall we proceed inside?"


    Darren didn''t respond immediately. His gaze flicked to Rachel. He raised a brow at her and she nodded. Together, they walked into the building.


    The grand lobby was immaculate¡ª black marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the space in golden light, and an open-concept design that made everything feel vast. A glass elevator at the center led directly to the upper floors.


    Rachel took in every detail, her mind working like a machine.


    "The foundation is strong," she noted. "But the interior evidently needs work. The office spaces above are standard layouts, but I''d suggest restructuring the upper floors to accommodate executive offices. If you want a boardroom, the west wing''s panoramic view would be ideal."


    Mr. Graham blinked, caught off guard by her knowledge. "You... seem quite familiar with the property."


    Rachel didn''t even glance at him. "I don''t know if you''re underestimating me, Mr. Graham. I know every valuable property in this state. My only duty here is making sure my boss''s money is well spent."


    Darren smirked slightly. Gosh, he was loving her already. She impressed him so much.


    He hadn''t told her a thing about the building before arriving. So it was clear she already knew everything about this place. She was telling the truth.


    How could someone know every single valuable property in the state offhand?


    Rachel Teschmacher. A sharp mind. Stern. Unshakable. Intelligent.


    Darren liked that. He also liked that he didn''t have to do a lot of work now. Not with her, he only had to worry about the money needed for investments, Rachel could deal with inspecting physical properties and assets just like this.


    After a full, detailed inspection was done as demanded by Rachel, they proceeded with negotiations. Mr. Graham presented the financial breakdown, but Rachel was unyielding.


    "Twenty percent of these costs are unnecessary," she pointed out, her tone never rising but cutting through the air like a scalpel. "Reassess your estimates. The security system upgrades don''t need outsourcing; we can hire an internal firm for half the price."


    "And this," she motioned to a particular clause in the contract, "is a ridiculous maintenance fee. Either we renegotiate this, or we take our business elsewhere."


    The seller, now visibly rattled, nodded quickly. "Of course, of course. I''ll have my team make the adjustments."


    In the end, Rachel had managed to bring the cost down to $82 million dollars. However, it didn''t exactly matter what the price was, Darren only had $30+ million to his name.


    But he also did have ©³80% Discount on Next Major Purchase©¿


    He activated the reward and Mr. Graham frowned at the computer before him, then chuckled. "Whooo hoo hoo! Seems you''re a very lucky man or today''s just your lucky day! This property has been lowered to an 80% Discount by the government!"


    Darren smirked inwardly. "Good. I would have paid either way."


    The contract signing was done, many other long processes were complete and soon evening began to encroach.


    They finalized the deal at last, led by Rachel''s words and guidance. And rather than his mother, the Helios Dome was now the first property signed under Darren Steele''s name.


    As they prepared to leave, Darren addressed the constructors. "I want renovations to begin immediately. Also, a D sign to the top of the building. I want it visible from every direction."


    The team nodded in acknowledgment.


    Darren and Rachel got into his car, and he leaned back and let out a deep breath.


    Rachel still appeared serious, arranging files.


    Darren turned, watching her. "You know, Rachel? I think we''re a match made in heaven."


    Even though she had spent the last hour as a cold, intimidating force, Rachel''s face suddenly melted under his gaze.


    The steel in her expression softened.


    A small smile, genuine and warm, graced her lips. "I think so too."


    She stared at him, as he turned on the engine and drove off.


    Ding!


    ©³Company building successfully secured.©¿


    The plans for the company were perfectly falling into place.

 Chapter 67: Digital Setup

    Rachel was getting accustomed to her new home, multiple employment advertisements had been sent out, renovations had begun in the Helios Dome and legal documents had begun drafted.


    Darren''s company was already off to a smooth start and he hadn''t even decided on a name yet.


    That morning, he stepped out of his car, eyes scanning the quiet street before turning toward the modest apartment complex he had secured for the new head of his IT Department.


    Kara DeAndre was a risk. Any major company and business man would see her that way. Not only was she wild and unpredictable, but she was nosy and too skilled for her own good.


    But even though that was the case, no matter what Darren thought, she was his Kara now, and it would be unfair for him to kick her to the curb.


    Not only that, he saw outside the box.


    So far, her unorthodox methods had yielded great solutions for him. Her "nosiness" could become a powerful tool, uncovering hidden vulnerabilities in rival companies.


    Hiring her was a calculated risk. Obviously, Darren knew. But by channeling her skills with ethical guidelines and challenging projects, her "too skilled" nature can very well become an asset.


    She could turn his IT department into a proactive shield, proving that a hacker''s mind could be the best defense.


    ''Perhaps I should move on with this standard,'' Darren thought. ''Hiring unconventional applicants for conventional roles.''


    The apartment he had gotten her was fine enough for her heavy taste. Not too extravagant, at least not from the outside.


    The real value lay inside, where he had converted an entire room into a high-tech nerve center for her to perform his tasks.


    He walked up to the door and knocked once. A second later, the door flung open.


    Kara stood in the doorway, grinning up at him with sharp, knowing eyes. Her red hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she was surprisingly wearing sunglasses for some reason.


    She wore an oversized hoodie with a pixelated skull on it, paired with black leggings. Casual. Comfortable. Efficient.


    The usual Kara he had come to know. The sunglasses were still a question though.


    "I know," Kara sighed, like she could tell he was curious about them. "But I''ve been staring at computer screens the whole day. I have to protect these eyes."


    Darren smirked.


    She sized him up, almost watering at the thought of kissing him.


    "You''re late," she teased, stepping aside to let him in.


    Darren arched a brow. "I didn''t set a time."


    "Yeah, well, I assumed you''d be early," she said, shutting the door behind him. "Bosses tend to be like that."


    Darren ignored the jab, his eyes already scanning the room.


    The space had been transformed. Monitors rested close to the walls, a deep-blue LED glow giving the place an almost futuristic feel.


    Cables ran neatly along the desks, feeding into high-performance servers stacked against the far wall. Several laptops, tablets, and external drives were scattered across the workspace. It was exactly what he had envisioned.


    Kara clapped her hands together. "Alright, let''s get to it. You wanna know where we stand? Lemme show you."


    He had come because he wanted an in-depth update on what she''d been doing so far in setting up the Internet and other digital aspects of his company.


    She walked over to her desk, tapped a few keys, and it displayed the infrastructure she had built so far.


    IT infrastructure was what she started with.


    Kara pointed at a cluster of interconnected nodes on the display.


    "I''ve set up secure servers and cloud storage¡ª military-grade encryption, no nonsense. Cold and hot wallets for crypto storage are fully operational, with a backup redundancy plan in place. I''ve also begun integration with existing investment platforms, but if you want to build our own, that''s gonna take more manpower."


    Darren folded his arms, nodding. "Good. We''ll weigh the costs of building versus integrating. What about security?"


    Kara smiled. "Always worried about your privacy, aren''t you, Mr. D?"


    She tapped another section. "I think I outdid myself here. Firewalls, AI-driven threat detection, and multi-factor authentication are all set. I ran penetration tests ¡ª no major vulnerabilities, but I''m gonna keep stress-testing it. Also, I drafted a risk-monitoring protocol to flag suspicious transactions. If someone tries to pull a fast one, we''ll know before they do."


    Darren liked that. He gave her an impressed look, especially after the system affirmed her job. "What about regulations?"


    She scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, I know, SEC, KYC, AML, all that fun stuff. I''ve set up compliance protocols and hired a legal consultant to make sure we don''t get smacked with a lawsuit before we even launch. You''re welcome."


    He gave her a small nod. "Keep it airtight."


    She pressed enter and arrived at a new section. "If we wanna offer DeFi services, I''m gonna need to bring in some blockchain engineers. Right now, I''ve set up a basic framework and pulled in some audits for smart contract security. No holes so far, but I''m not gonna let this turn into a Web3 horror story. You want reliability, I''ll give you reliability."


    Darren appreciated her foresight. "Good. I don''t want this company''s foundation cracking before it even stands."


    "Yessir," she replied.


    Her eyes gleamed as she switched to another screen. "Now, this is the fun part. I''ve implemented computer-driven market analysis tools ¡ª machine learning models that track price movements, whale transactions, and overall sentiment. We can predict trends before most traders even notice them. I also coded an internal dashboard for real-time investment tracking."


    Darren let out a low hum. "You''re saying we''ll have an edge over competitors?"


    Kara grinned. "I''m saying we''ll be playing chess while they''re still learning checkers."


    "I can''t believe you were able to do all of this in a week."


    "I''m not done yet, Mr. D. Don''t get all excited."


    She cracked her knuckles. "This part is uhm... the website''s in development. It''s gonna be sleek, professional, and secure. UI/UX is being handled by a contractor I trust. Also, KYC/AML systems are already built into the onboarding process. And you haven''t given me a company name."


    "I''ll tell you a name soon. Meanwhile, make sure the verification process isn''t a headache," Darren said. "If it''s too much, people won''t bother."


    "Don''t worry, I''m not a sadist," she shot back. "It''ll be smooth, efficient, and idiot-proof."


    Kara leaned back against her desk. "We''re gonna need more people. Developers, engineers, cybersecurity analysts. I''ve started scouting, but I''ll need a bigger budget to get top-tier talent."


    Darren exhaled through his nose. "How big of a budget?"


    She looked at him and raised a knowing brow.


    Darren sighed. "I see. I''ll get it to you soon. We need the best. No compromises."


    "Love to hear that, Mr. D! I''m not going to lie, you''ve got me excited with this whole building a company thing. Never knew I could use my talents like this."


    Darren smiled to himself. He was right.


    "I''ve implemented encrypted messaging tools for internal communications," she continued. "No unprotected emails, no leaks. Also, disaster recovery plans are in place in case of an emergency. If someone tries to take us down, we''ll bounce back in no time."


    Darren was silent for a moment, absorbing everything. Kara had covered every angle.


    "You''ve done well," he finally said.


    Kara''s lips twitched. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Why don''t we go over to my bedroom and you can... thank me appropriately?" She rested a leg on his lap.


    Darren shot her a look, but she just grinned naughtily. "I have to be somewhere, Kara. But we''ll continue this when I get back."


    Then, she crossed her arms and tilted her head. "Well hold on. It''s now your turn. How''s everything else going? Hiring?"


    Darren adjusted his cuffs. "I''ve gotten a secretary."


    Kara raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who?"


    "You''ll see her later," he replied coolly. "I also want you to visit the site soon. It''s secured, but you should assess it for IT installations."


    Kara smirked. "I like when you tell me what to do."


    Darren glanced at his watch. "I have to go see my mother."


    Kara saluted. "Go on, then. I''ll keep building our digital empire."


    He didn''t respond, just turned and left.


    The system dinged in his mind.


    ©³Progress Update: IT Infrastructure Established = 70%©¿

 Chapter 68: Rico Amigo

    By the time he arrived at Holloway Medical, it was already noon.


    The building stood tall against the afternoon sky, its glass facade reflecting the golden sunlight.


    The silver lettering above the entrance gleamed in the light, Holloway Medicals, a symbol of both healing and exclusivity.


    Well-dressed professionals walked in and out, their faces weary but composed. Patients were wheeled across the well-manicured front garden, where the scent of fresh lavender mixed with the sterility of hospital-grade disinfectant.


    Darren stepped out of his Aston Martin, the deep rumble of its engine cutting off as he shut the door behind him.


    He held a large bouquet in his hand, full of roses, tulips, and lilies arranged meticulously, while the neatly wrapped box of cookies in his other hand gave a homely touch to his otherwise sharp and professional look.


    He adjusted his cuffs, exhaled, and started toward the hospital''s entrance, his polished shoes clicking rhythmically against the pavement alongside the sounds of life around him.


    Suddenly appearing in view, from the side of the street, was Rico Evans.


    He seemed to have been waiting. Leaning against a lamppost, smoking a cigarette.


    He was dressed in dark casual clothing, a beanie pulled low over his short-cropped hair.


    Rico watched Darren closely, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. His eyes followed every movement the unsuspecting Darren made as he walked into the hospital.


    Rico''s silent eyes narrowed, his palms clenched. Then, as Darren disappeared through the sliding doors, his gaze flicked to the Aston Martin parked by the curb.


    The sleek, expensive machine gleamed under the sunlight. A car like that didn''t come cheap.


    Rico squinted, tilting his head, a mix of confusion and intrigue shadowing his face.


    He waited.


    Two hours later, the sun had dipped lower, casting warm hues across the hospital parking lot.


    The traffic had thickened, the occasional honk and chatter of people filling the air. Rico had waited patiently through these two hours, shifting positions every so often, blending into the background like a ghost.


    Then, finally, the automatic doors slid open.


    Darren emerged, his hands now empty. The bouquet was gone. The cookies, too.


    His face was unreadable, though calmer, almost happier, like the sight of someone had refreshed him. Or some good news had brightened his day.


    Rico returned to the lamppost, blending with its black color. Then he watched.


    Darren moved towards his car, pulling out his key fob. The Aston Martin beeped in response.


    Then, just as his hand reached for the door handle, something in the window''s reflection made his heart jolt.


    A shadow. A figure.


    He spun around instantly, clenching his fist to prepare himself for an attack. But then he paused.


    Rico stood there.


    For a split second, neither moved.


    ''What the hell?'' Darren''s thoughts spoke. ''What is Rico doing here right now?''


    Rico''s expression quickly shifted to one of surprise, eyebrows raised, lips parting slightly as if he hadn''t expected this at all.


    "Yo. No way... is that you, Darren?" Rico''s voice was laced with disbelief, a slow grin forming.


    Darren, still catching his breath, exhaled sharply, his muscles unclenching. He blinked before shaking his head, letting out a half-laugh.


    "Shit, Rico?" He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to relax. "What the hell, man?"


    Rico chuckled, taking a step closer. "Damn, bro, I didn''t even recognize you at first! You look... different. Sharper. Richer." His eyes flicked to the car behind Darren before settling back on him. "You a millionaire or something now?"


    Darren smirked. "Something like that."


    Rico whistled, shaking his head. "Damn. College must''ve treated you nicer than I thought, huh?"


    Darren shrugged. "I mean, that''s not all of it, but I guess. I thought we were going to meet in my house?"


    "Yeah! I thought so too! But I just ran into here, and look at that? Awesome coincidence don''t you think?!"


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being dishonest to you©¿


    Darren''s gaze darkened as he studied him for a second longer, then chuckled. "Yeah. We have to catch up properly, right? How about we hit that bar nearby? You know, reminisce about the old days."


    Rico appeared ecstatic with the idea. "Yeah, man. Sounds good."


    "Great."


    The bar was a familiar place. Dim lighting, old wooden furniture, a jukebox playing blues in the corner. It smelled like whiskey, cigars, and nostalgia.


    They found a booth near the back, away from the noise. Rico ordered a beer; Darren went with whiskey.


    "To old times," Rico said, raising his bottle.


    Darren clinked his glass against it. "To old times."


    The conversation started light; memories of college life, late-night cramming sessions, stupid pranks they''d pulled on professors.


    Even though Darren knew his old friend was being devious at best, he found himself easing into the flow, laughing as Rico reminded him of the time they nearly got suspended for hacking the school''s grading system¡ª an incident Darren had barely avoided getting blamed for.


    "So, really, man," Rico leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "How''d you pull it off? The car, the suit. You got money, now huh? What''s the secret?"


    Ding!


    ©³This character is maliciously curious of you.©¿


    Darren gave a practiced chuckle, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "I got lucky. Made a good investment at the right time."


    Rico raised an eyebrow. "Stocks?"


    "Something like that." Darren kept his tone casual, but he was watching. Observing.


    "You''re being too cryptic, man. I''m not digging it. Come on! Help me out here. I need to make some investments too. Anything to get me out of the dregs here."


    Rico took a sip of his beer. "And I''ve not forgotten. You were always into crypto back in the day. Remember? Used to go berserk about it." He let the words settle before adding, "Still into it?"


    Darren''s grip on his glass tightened slightly.


    "Not as much," he lied smoothly. "Market''s unpredictable. I dabble here and there, but nothing crazy."


    Rico tilted his head. "Huh. That''s surprising."


    Darren raised an eyebrow. "Why?"


    "Because I figured you''d be all over what''s happening right now." Rico leaned back, arms stretched across the booth. "There''s this insane dude called FuglyDuckling. You haven''t heard about him, have you? Surely you must have!"


    There it was.


    Darren didn''t react immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his drink, setting the glass down carefully. "Can''t say I have. Some new influencer?"


    Rico laughed. "Man, you really been out of the loop, huh? Dude''s making waves. Insane returns, crazy buys ¡ª real mysterious guy, too." He watched Darren closely. "No one knows who he is."


    Darren met Rico''s gaze, his expression unreadable. "Sounds interesting."


    Silence hung between them for a beat too long.


    Then Darren leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp. "But, Rico. This... coincidence. It''s just way too aligned for a coincidence, right?"


    Rico chuckled nervously. "I know right? Maybe God just wanted us to reunite as soon as possible."


    "Mhm," Darren took a sip of his whiskey and placed the glass dome gently. "You haven''t yet told me... What were you doing at the hospital?"


    The question came out smoothly, but certainly caught Rico off guard.

 Chapter 69: Sight of Danger

    Rico Evans didn''t flinch. Not at first. Darren had seen him bluff through poker games with a straight face and con his way out of situations that would''ve had anyone else folding under pressure.


    Throughout their college life, Rico had been great at doing anything that was morally questionable, but it was always easy for Darren to tell when he was lying.


    That was because he was way too good at it. Too good for his own good.


    The question ¡ª What were you doing in the hospital? ¡ª hung in the air like a tripwire. Darren watched carefully as Rico''s pupils shifted, his shoulders tightening just a little before he relaxed into an easy smirk.


    A fraction of hesitation. Barely noticeable.


    Now here comes the lie...


    "Oh, that?" Rico let out a breathy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. "My aunt''s been sick, man. Real bad. Some kind of kidney thing¡ª I dunno, medical stuff''s not my forte. Just came to drop off some things and check in on her. What about you, why are you here?"


    Darren nodded slowly, taking a sip from his drink as he watched Rico over the rim of the glass.


    Ding!


    ©³This person is lying to you©¿


    "Oh, in my case, it''s my mom," Darren said, exhaling as if he bought Rico''s excuse.


    "Oh, men. What happened."


    "She has an aortic disease. She just had surgery and things are looking really good."


    "Damn, Steele," Rico leaned on the table, adjusting his beanie. "Wish her a safe recovery, really."


    "Thanks," Darren smiled warmly. "Maybe we could go see her now if you''d like. And then we can also go see that aunt of yours."


    Rico sat back, eyes showing his worry. "Ah." He waved it off. "Don''t worry. It''ll get me all emotional seeing either of them that way. I know I don''t see my aunt like that for a second time today. Maybe another day."


    Darren almost smirked. But he nodded. "Maybe another day."


    Rico''s gaze held for a second longer than necessary, like he was trying to dissect Darren''s words, peel them apart and find something hidden between the syllables.


    But Darren played it cool. He just swirled his drink idly, resting his forearm on the table, completely at ease. Or at least, that''s what he wanted Rico to see.


    And then, as if it was just casual conversation, Rico leaned in slightly. "But man, it is wild seeing you again. You''ve changed a lot. You must be rolling in it now, an Aston Martin really?"


    Darren wished he didn''t have to bring this up again. "Life''s not exactly as it seems. You said something about a FuglyDuckling guy? A crypto investor."


    "Yeah." Rico''s eyes narrowed on him, gaze not as scheming as his thoughts. "Bloody maniac that one. I did mention the kinds of transactions he''s doing? All of them have broken records so far."


    Darren pursed his lips with little interest. "Sounds like you''ve been keeping tabs on him."


    "Yeah, well, gotta stay updated, right?" Rico said smoothly, but Darren could hear the layer underneath. He''s fishing.


    And now, Darren was certain of it.


    He sat back, still relaxed on the outside, but inside, his mind was racing.


    Something was happening here.


    Rico had called him just days after his system had warned him about another hacking attempt on his Bitcoin wallet. At the time, Darren had brushed it off as the usual cyber-thieves trying their luck. But now? Now it wasn''t just random attacks.


    Rico had asked him if he still lived on Malegreen Street. Darren had said yes.


    The next day, his house was broken into. His laptop had been tampered with. Someone had tried to breach his system.


    He had thought it was Brooklyn. It made sense¡ª she had the motive. Every evidence and reason pointed to her.


    But Rico?


    Darren stole a glance at him, keeping his expression neutral as his thoughts churned.


    Rico was way too quick to bring up FuglyDuckling. And this coincidental running into each other, obviously wasn''t coincidental at all.


    Rico, also another skilled hacker.


    But why? Why was he suddenly trying to pry?


    Did he know that Darren was FuglyDuckling? Or was it just suspicion and he was in search of evidence? Was he trying to steal and run away?


    Darren knew Rico. Stealing wasn''t far off from his level.


    He decided to deploy the system''s Personal Insight Protocol feature.


    Ding!


    ---------------------------


    ©³Personal Insight Protocol is complete©¿


    ©³Information on subject is as follows©¿


    ©³Full Name: Rico Elias Evans


    Age: 24


    Occupation: Cybersecurity Specialist, Independent Contractor


    Affiliations: Moon Wealth Management Offices


    Status: Under surveillance by MWMO due to criminal hacking activities


    Condition: Facing potential legal action unless identity of FuglyDuckling is discovered


    Address: 298 Hilgrid Street, Taildrive, CA 80590


    Phone Number: (303) 555-0907©¿


    -----------------------------------


    Darren''s pulse slowed, a cold realization settling in.


    Moon Wealth Management Offices. That was a subsidiary of Moon Enterprises which was run under the control of Ryan Anders, a sly businessman who candidly was very good at business management.


    Ah, they were trying to scout him early. Get his signature before he became public knowledge.


    Darren exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay in control. Alright. So Rico suspects. But he doesn''t know for sure. He''s looking for evidence.


    That meant Darren still had the upper hand.


    Even though the system had told him to declare himself as an investor this month, he wanted to do it on his terms, not having it leaked by a Wealth Management company.


    Also, he wanted to tell people he cared about face to face, not have them find out through the news or with MWMO agencies following him around, asking for his signature.


    "Man, this has been great," Darren said suddenly, finishing his drink and setting the glass down. "But I gotta be somewhere. Got a meeting lined up."


    Rico blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then he smiled, nodding. "Yeah, no worries. I understand you''re like a big man now, so it''s fine. We should do this again, though. Maybe hit up the old crew."


    "For sure." Darren slid back his chair, then gave Rico a small, knowing smile. "Hey, my mom''s gonna be out of the hospital soon. You should come over, say hi. She''d love to see you."


    He watched Rico carefully, catching the flicker of hesitation before the man nodded. "Yeah. That''d be nice."


    Darren clapped a hand on his shoulder. "See you around, Ric."


    He then walked out of the bar, sauntering with determination.


    He pulled out his phone and called a number. It rang three times before the call connected.


    "You weren''t the one who broke into my house, were you?"

 Chapter 70: Everyday News

    "Well, of course not, Mr. Steele." The playful voice of Brooklyn Baker carried an unmistakable smirk with it. "I''m not a delinquent."


    She was walking with her feminine, hurried steps, hips and ass swaying with the motion of her feet as she walked towards a large building.


    Darren frowned, continuing toward his car, his mind sharp with calculation. "But you did enter my house."


    Brooklyn''s lips perked a bit, but she kept listening.


    "You knocked. Saw the door was open, and you went in ¡ª maybe out of honest worry at first," Darren continued, keeping his tone level, though there was still an edge to it. "But when you saw it was empty, you went in, did a little digging. You found the receipt."


    A soft chuckle crackled through the receiver. "Wow. How impressive. I didn''t know you were such a detective, Mr. Steele. Ever thought of being an investigative journalist?"


    Darren wasn''t amused. "The least you could have done when you came to my house in Greenbaby was tell me that you found my house open."


    "And admit to trespassing?" Brooklyn mused with brows raised. "Doesn''t sound very smart, does it?"


    "Are you admitting to it now?"


    A pause. Then, teasingly, she replied, "Are you going to file charges against me if I did?"


    Darren opened his car door, letting out a frustrated but tentative exhale. "No."


    Brooklyn''s smile widened, she even bit her lip involuntarily as she walked closer and closer towards the building.


    "I know it''s only happened twice, but something about hearing your voice over the phone just brightens up my day, Mr. Steele. Do call me, so we can do this again."


    The line clicked dead before Darren could respond.


    Brooklyn Baker lowered her phone, slipping it into her coat pocket. She looked up to the building she was approaching. It was a place she could basically call her second home at this point.


    The towering glass monolith of Everyday News.


    Everyday News carried the slogan; The Power of Information


    In the subject of power, they indeed had that. Their headquarters was a tower skyscraper.


    It loomed over the city like a modern-day colossus, with its sleek steel frame and gleaming windows reflecting the morning sun.


    It was designed with grandeur in mind, standing as a symbol of journalistic power. It was one of the top five news organizations in the country and the most influential in the state.


    With the globe on top of the building, one would be reminded of the Daily Planet.


    Owned by Douglas Harrington, a media mogul with deep ties in both political and business spheres, Everyday News was a titan in the industry.


    Its reach extended far beyond newspapers and television broadcasts; it controlled public opinion, influenced policymakers, and dictated what stories lived or died.


    Each floor of the building catered to a different branch of the news empire:


    Entertainment Everyday ¨C The latest on film, music, and celebrity culture.


    Fashion Everyday ¨C Covering trends, designers, and industry scandals.


    Sports Everyday ¨C The heart of athletics, from college games to international championships.


    Politics Everyday ¨C The nerve center of governmental affairs and political movements.


    There were many more branches, but the floor Brooklyn called home, the kingdom where she reigned as the head journalist, was Business Everyday.


    She strode into the vast lobby, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors.


    The place was a flurry of activity.


    There were journalists rushing in and out, interns scrambling with files, camera crews setting up interviews. The humming energy of information in motion.


    "Morning, Baker."


    "Brooklyn, need a quote from you on that stock crash!"


    "You owe me coffee for yesterday''s interview tip!"


    Brooklyn nodded, offering the occasional smirk as she weaved through the chaos. She had a reputation here; sharp, relentless, and unshaken. But today, her focus was on one thing.


    She approached a glass-walled office at the end of the hall. Inside, a woman with meticulously styled blonde hair, rectangular glasses, and an air of constant urgency was signing off on contracts while speaking to three different people at once.


    Her name was Catherine Langley. She was the Media Manager for Brooklyn''s branch.


    Brooklyn knocked once before stepping in. "Hello, Mrs Langley?"


    Langley barely looked up. "Make it quick, Baker."


    Brooklyn leaned against the desk, placing a file down. "So... I''ve compiled enough testimonies, secured statements, and confirmed sources. The Gareth Smithers expose? is ready. We need to schedule a day for the big release."


    Langley didn''t even glance at the file. She continued scribbling, flipping through documents, then, without raising her head, delivered the words like a guillotine drop.


    "The story''s been buried."


    Brooklyn paused... then blinked. "What?"


    "We''re not running it."


    Another pause. Then she let out a short, incredulous laugh. "That''s funny, Mrs Langley. Come on, we both know this is going to blow up once it airs. We¡ª"


    "It''s not happening, Brooklyn."


    Brooklyn''s amusement vanished. "You can''t be serious. This is major. Right now, in my hands, I have proof. Testimonies. Signed statements. Victims who¡ª"


    "It came from higher up." Langley finally looked at her, dropping the pen in her hand. "Funding is at stake."


    Brooklyn''s jaw tightened. "Funding?"


    Langley''s gaze was steady. "Let''s not kid ourselves, Brooklyn. We both knew this was going to happen. Gareth Smithers has powerful friends. Friends who have deep investments in this company. If we air this, we''re looking at major financial withdrawal. Lawsuits. Boardroom battles." She sighed, closing a file. "It''s not worth the risk."


    Brooklyn clenched her fists. "Did... did you not read the reports? Women were hurt. Young people were taken advantage of and left to suffer. You know that."


    Langley exhaled, rubbing her temple. "I do."


    "Then why are we letting this go?"


    Langley studied her for a moment, then said something that made Brooklyn''s stomach drop.


    "You''ve gotten a little attached to this story, haven''t you?"


    Brooklyn''s lips parted slightly. "What?"


    Langley leaned forward. "It''s not happening, Brooklyn. Bury it"


    Her experience grew stern. "Have you forgotten? You''re a journalist, Brooklyn. It''s not our job to search for justice. We just deliver the news."


    Brooklyn stared at her, feeling those words pulling her down with its weight.


    Langley stood, gathering her files. "I have meetings to attend. Take the rest of the day off."


    Then, she walked away, leaving Brooklyn standing there.


    Dumbfounded.


    Crestfallen.


    And furious.


    ------------


    A/N: Congratulations on reaching the goal, folks! Ten chapter mass release is coming on Friday! Get us to 200 Golden Tickets for another ten!

 Chapter 71: Cost of Truth

    In this world, many had different beliefs of what was moral and what wasn''t, but at some level, there are certain things people all generally agreed were vastly immoral.


    Brooklyn didn''t need to be told that this was one of them.


    After being admonished by the media manager, she sat in her office, her fingers pressing against her temples, eyes staring blankly at the wooden desk that had been hers for years.


    Brooklyn loved coffee, yet the steaming cup sat untouched beside her laptop, its aroma mixing with the faint scent of old books and printer ink.


    Papers were scattered in front of her, but she wasn''t seeing them.


    Her thoughts swirled like a storm, crashing violently against the walls of reason. How could she just let this go?


    She understood how politics worked. She had even played the game herself, spinning narratives, omitting inconvenient truths when necessary.


    The government manipulating the media wasn''t new to her; hell, she had facilitated it at times.


    But this was different. This was a cover-up. This was burying a story that truly mattered.


    Brooklyn exhaled sharply, her nails digging into her palms.


    ''Do you even care about any of this?''


    ''You''re a heartless woman.''


    Sandy Meyers''s words resurfaced in her mind, the accusation ringing louder than ever.


    Brooklyn had no way to prove it, but she could tell that Sandy herself was a victim of Gareth Smithers''s woeful actions. There was no way a woman like her would have stayed that long and not experienced anything.


    Their conversation hurt as she thought about it.


    Brooklyn had mastered the act of accepting being disliked. It came with the profession.


    She had never had a problem with walking the tightrope between ethical and questionable. In this field, the truth was rarely black and white. But this? This was crossing the line.


    And she didn''t want Sandy Meyers ¡ª a victim ¡ª to think that she was a completely heartless woman. Especially in this situation.


    Journalists weren''t law enforcement, weren''t judges or executioners. They didn''t bring justice. But they sure as hell made sure the truth was known so that justice could be brought.


    And if they weren''t doing that ¡ª if they were suppressing the truth ¡ª then weren''t they just as guilty?


    A knock on her door. Brooklyn looked up as a junior assistant stepped in, placing a thick folder on her desk.


    "From Langley," the assistant said. "She wants you working on this next."


    Brooklyn pulled the folder toward her, flipping it open.


    Her stomach twisted.


    ''Bitcoin''s Alleged Collapse: Why Cryptocurrency is a Failing Investment''


    Her jaw clenched. More bullshit. Another manufactured hit piece meant to instill fear, to manipulate public perception.


    She flipped through the pages, scanning the data, the carefully curated language meant to overstate a minor dip in Bitcoin''s value, painting it as catastrophic.


    As if that was more important than exposing a man who had ruined lives.


    Brooklyn slammed the folder shut, pushing away from her desk so violently her chair scraped across the floor.


    No.


    No, she wasn''t doing this.


    She grabbed the real story; the Gareth Smithers expose?, and stormed out of her office.


    Everyone paused, watching her storm past then, all having an idea of what was about to happen.


    Brooklyn stormed into Catherine Langley''s office, refusing to knock.


    The media manager was seated at her desk, glasses perched on her nose, scribbling on a contract.


    As though she was expecting the outburst, she didn''t even look up.


    Brooklyn slammed the expose? onto Langley''s desk.


    "I can''t let it go, Mrs Langley. We need to run this."


    Langley sighed, setting her pen down with deliberate slowness. She glanced at the folder, then at Brooklyn, unimpressed. "We''ve already discussed this."


    "No, you''ve dismissed it." Brooklyn''s voice was tight, controlled rage simmering beneath. "And I need you to look at this again. Actually look at what''s in front of you."


    Langley exhaled sharply but opened the folder. Brooklyn''s eyes burned as she watched her boss skim the pages; pages filled with evidence, testimonies, lives shattered.


    "Neil Grayson. Twenty-two," Brooklyn read out with a cutting tone. "Came to work for Smithers right after college. He had the next big startup idea, a social networking platform for professionals. Smithers took him under his wing, promised mentorship. Instead, he stole Neil''s work, claimed it as his own. Neil was blacklisted. No one in the industry would touch him after that."


    Langley stayed silent and expressionless.


    "Sarah Keene. Twenty-four. She interned at Smithers'' firm. He cornered her in his office. When she refused his advances, he tanked her career before it even started. She''s working at a coffee shop now, Catherine. With a degree from Stanford."


    Brooklyn''s voice rose. "Do you know how many women didn''t fight back? How many just ¡ª let it happen because they knew no one would believe them?"


    Langley''s lips pressed into a thin line. "Brooklyn¡ª"


    "This is a pattern. A cycle. And we''re letting it continue." Brooklyn''s heart pounded. "I know what''s happening here. I understand who''s pulling the strings. But that doesn''t change the fact that this is our job."


    Langley closed the folder. "It''s not happening."


    Brooklyn''s eyes made her appear insane. Maddened with anger and frustration. "You can''t be serious."


    Langley leaned forward, folding her hands together. "Brooklyn, listen to me. This isn''t about right or wrong. This is about business. Do you know what the Morrisons will do to us if we run this? These investors with deep pockets don''t want this story out. If we push it ¡ª if we defy them ¡ª funding gets pulled. We''ll crumble and then we can never bring any story to light once again. Is that what you want?"


    "What does it matter when they''re the ones who get to choose what stories we report?!"


    Langley looked at Brooklyn, shook her head and sighed. Then she returned to her work.


    Brooklyn''s blood boiled. "So that''s it? Money over truth?"


    "It''s always money over truth, Brooklyn." Langley''s tone was final.


    Brooklyn stared at her, disgusted. "And you''re okay with that?"


    Langley sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don''t have a choice."


    Brooklyn''s hands curled into fists. Then she unfurled them. Took a deep breath.


    "Then give me one."


    Langley''s brow furrowed.


    Brooklyn straightened, unshaken. "Authorize the release of the expose?." She paused. "Or fire me."


    Langley blinked. "Excuse me?"


    "You heard me." Brooklyn''s voice was ice. "Either you let me do my job, or you let me go. Your choice."


    Silence.


    Langley studied her for a long moment. Then, she laughed.


    It was quiet. Amused. Pitying.


    "I was once like you Brooklyn," Langley said, shaking her head. "Excited. Driven. Fired up with my vain belief of what''s right and wrong? This is business, Brooklyn. It''s the world of capitalism we''ve built."


    She sighed. "I had hoped you''ll learn and adjust. But it seems you prefer to do that the hard way."


    She gave Brooklyn a dark gaze. "Do you really think this company needs you?"


    The words hit hard, but Brooklyn didn''t flinch.


    Silence stretched for multiple seconds, then Langley exhaled, pushing the expose? back toward Brooklyn. "You''re fired."


    Brooklyn stilled.


    A second passed. Then another.


    She had gambled, and she had lost.


    Slowly, she reached for the folder, gripping it tightly as if it could anchor her. She swallowed hard, the weight of reality settling in.


    Then, she straightened.


    With every ounce of dignity she had, Brooklyn turned and walked out of the office.


    The open newsroom was silent.


    The reporters, editors, interns had all heard what had happened. They watched her leave.


    Brooklyn kept her chin high, ignoring the stunned and pitying gazes.


    Was Brooklyn really leaving Business Everyday.


    She walked past the desk that had been hers for years. Past the walls that had once held her work, her legacy.


    And then, she arrived outside.


    The city stretched before her, vast and indifferent. Brooklyn exhaled, the cold air purifying her lungs from the suffocating atmosphere back in the office.


    She turned back and gazed at the tall building. She''d lived a great deal of her adult life in the walls of this glass tower.


    Now she''d been fired, she only had one question for herself.


    Who was Brooklyn Baker without Business Everyday?

 Chapter 72: Legalizing the Business

    Not very far from where she was, Darren''s car had just parked expertly into a space in a parking lot.


    Turning it off, he leaned against the sleek black hood of the car, arms crossed as he watched Rachel fix the collar of her fitted blazer. She adjusted the cuffs next, her expression set with quiet determination.


    "I really wished you had listened to me. I enjoyed your presence the last time," Darren muttered, exhaling as he checked his watch. "But I can handle registering a company myself."


    Rachel gave him a look of admiration and respect. "You have acquired my service, Mr. Steele," she said. "I want to make sure that you receive it to its full extent."


    Her eyes glistened as they grew more intense, gazing at him. "I am your secretary. This is what secretaries do. I wouldn''t be doing my job if I let you."


    Darren sighed, shaking his head.


    This wasn''t the first try. He had tried at least three times before, but Rachel had been relentless.


    She wanted to prove herself. Again. Not just as his secretary but as someone he could rely on, someone who ensured his business ran smoothly.


    Her drive to satisfy him, to make things work for him, was something he couldn''t argue with.


    Ringgg!


    He took out his phone. Seeing the caller, he cancelled it and slid it back into his pocket.


    "Let''s go then."


    They both stepped down from the ride; Darren in a pure black suit with a red tie, and Rachel with a red fitted gown and high black heels.


    The building they were walking into was the Los Alverez Secretary of State Office.


    ©³Beginning Phase One of Company Creation.©¿


    Darren wasn''t following the phasing sequentially. He didn''t need to.


    When an opportunity came by to complete an aspect of building the company, he took it quickly. Just like hiring Kara and Rachel when Job Hirings were all the way in Phase 3.


    But at this point, Phase One was what he needed to get done to move to the more serious parts of building a company.


    Phase 1 was: FOUNDATION AND PLANNING.


    The Los Alverez Secretary of State Office was housed in a sleek, modern government building downtown.


    Entering inside, a large, marble lobby greeted visitors, its high ceiling and pristine floors gave off the air of bureaucratic authority.


    Unsurprisingly, rows of service counters stretched across the main hall, where people sat filling out forms or waiting for their numbers to be called.


    "You were almost too relaxed about this," Rachel told him. "This should have been one of the first things you did, but I guess being non-conventional has been your style. I''m also glad I came along just in time, that way I can make sure it goes as smoothly as you need."


    Darren hid his smile. If this went on, Rachel was going to make him lazy.


    As they approached the front desk, a receptionist greeted them with a professional smile. "How can I assist you?"


    Rachel, standing beside Darren, didn''t hesitate. "We''re here to register a Limited Liability Company under the State of Calivernia laws."


    The receptionist nodded, sliding a clipboard across the counter. "You''ll need to fill out an Articles of Organization form. Is it just the two of you handling this?"


    Rachel answered before Darren could. "Yes. He''s the owner. I''m here to make sure everything is done properly." Her tone was crisp, professional, and of course, just daring anyone to try argue with her.


    They were directed to a waiting area, where Darren leaned back in his chair, watching Rachel work.


    She filled out the form with practiced ease, her handwriting sharp and deliberate.


    ''Yup. She''s certainly going to make me lazy.''


    "Are you always this efficient?" he asked her.


    Rachel shot him a look. "I want everything done perfectly for you, sir."


    Darren smirked but said nothing. ''Sir...'' he thought. ''I like that.''


    His phone buzzed again. He took it out, checked the ID.


    ''Brooklyn Baker.''


    He exhaled sharply and ignored the call.


    Rachel noticed. "That''s the fourth time. You really don''t want to deal with whoever that is, huh?"


    "Not right now."


    Rachel didn''t push. Instead, she stood and returned the completed form to the counter. Within minutes, they were called to a desk, where a woman in a navy blue suit glanced over their paperwork.


    "Alright," the woman said, adjusting her glasses. "I see you''re filing as an LLC. You''ll need a registered agent¡ª someone or preferably a corporation who can receive legal documents on behalf of the company."


    Rachel glanced at Darren, who appeared disconnected. When he noticed her looking at him, he gave her an eyebrow raise that said, ''Didn''t you want to do everything yourself?''


    Rachel turned around and said, "We don''t have one yet, but we do have some corporations in mind."


    "You have a month to get one. There are some popular ones like Moon Wealth Management Offices, the Sagomoto Offices or PenWealth. Do get one in time."


    Rachel nodded. "We''ll do just that."


    Darren''s gaze darkened at the thought of Moon Wealth Management Offices.


    They were already looking for him, weren''t they? Wanting his signature. But... they were a subsidiary of Moon Enterprises.


    And Darren would never work for them, not even for the cliche idea of breaking them down from the inside like some corporate saboteur.


    When he came for them, he wanted them to know it was him.


    The woman typed something into the system. "Let''s move on. Please, what''s the name of the company and what operations will it be running?"


    Darren answered this time, leaning forward. "Steele Investments,"his firm voice said.


    Rachel looked at him with a slight smile of admiration, then she answered the rest of the question. "A multi-asset investment company strategically allocating capital across a spectrum of investment opportunities, encompassing established sectors such as real estate and equities, alongside emerging digital asset markets, including cryptocurrency"


    Impressed, the woman nodded, inputting the information.


    "Do you have an Operating Agreement drafted?"


    Rachel was already pulling a document from her bag. "We do."


    The woman blinked, clearly surprised at how prepared she was. Darren shrugged.


    "Nice," the woman murmured, skimming through the file. Her eyes flicked to Darren, lingering a little too long. "Very efficient. It''s good to have a sharp secretary like this."


    Rachel''s expression didn''t change, but Darren noticed the sudden coldness in her posture.


    "Yes," Rachel said flatly. "Now, what''s next?"


    The woman cleared her throat, flustered. "Right, you''ll need an Employer Identification Number (EIN) for tax purposes. Hold this document, let''s get that done quickly.."


    Darren accepted the documents she handed him, his eyes drifting over the paperwork.


    Rachel took it from him, earning an eyebrow raise from him. She pursed her lips at him, making it clear that she didn''t want him working when she''s around.


    "That''s what a secretary is for."


    And she did the reading herself.


    An hour later, they were done with the EIN and it seemed their job was done.


    Darren tapped the desk impatiently. "We''re done here, then?"


    The woman smiled at Darren. "Yes, unless you need help with anything else."


    Rachel caught that look in her eyes and instantly narrowed hers. "We don''t," she said with a razor-sharp voice.


    The woman took her smile away. "Okay."


    Darren glanced at the two of them, then got up from his seat with a sigh. He wasn''t blind ¡ª Rachel had been watching the woman like a hawk ever since she started flirting with him.


    Was it also a secretary''s job to be jealous?


    As they walked out, she handed him the paperwork, still looking mildly annoyed.


    "You should''ve let me handle that part too," she muttered.


    Darren chuckled once. "What part?"


    Rachel didn''t answer, cheeks reddening.


    They were just stepping into the lobby when two businessmen in suits crossed their path. Their eyes landed on Rachel, and one of them immediately brightened.


    "Hey there, miss," one of them said, approaching her friendly. "If you don''t mind, now that I''ve ran into you, I would like to book an appointment with your boss."


    Rachel frowned. So did Darren.


    "My boss?" she repeated.


    The man hesitated, confused. "I''m sorry. Aren''t you Gareth Smithers''s secretary?"


    Rachel''s eyes instantly widened with fear.

 Chapter 73: Brooklyn Bomb

    Her breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded against her ribs.


    It was like in that second, she could see herself being dragged into the abyss, into the life she once had under Gareth Smithers.


    The life Darren had saved her from.


    Rachel turned to Darren, her silver blue eyes wide with fear and confusion.


    She had only wanted to work for him. To make sure everything was done right. She hadn''t thought this would happen. Hadn''t thought she''d be recognized.


    She should''ve listened to him.


    Darren saw the look she gave him. It was apologetic, almost pleading. As if she was bracing for his disappointment.


    He didn''t give her that. He wasn''t disappointed with her. Instead, his gaze sharpened as he turned back to the men in suits.


    The businessman still looked confused, glancing between Darren and Rachel to figure out what was happening.


    Rachel swallowed hard, straightening her shoulders and speaking with her formal voice of ice.


    "I''m sorry, you must have me confused with someone else," she said, voice carefully even. "I''m not Gareth Smithers''s secretary."


    The man frowned. He looked at his companion, who also seemed uncertain.


    "Are you sure? I''m almost very certain that you are..."


    Before he could continue, Darren stepped in, his expression darkening like a storm rolling in. "Hey," he cut in, voice low, edged with warning. "Didn''t you hear her? She''s not the person you think she is. Now get out of our way."


    For a moment, the men hesitated.


    They looked at him with questions in their eyes. Who was this guy?


    To them, Darren was a young man, not older than twenty-two, but there was something about the way he spoke.


    Like some powerful people, his presence came with an aura ¡ª one that made them pause. His confidence, his command. There was authority inside of it, that certainly shouldn''t belong to someone his age.


    Whoever this guy was, the two certainly didn''t want to get on his bad side.


    "Ah, yes," one of them finally muttered, clearing his throat. "I apologize."


    The other nodded stiffly, and just like that, they stepped aside.


    Ignoring them, Darren''s hand brushed Rachel''s arm lightly, then grabbed her palm reassuringly, before turning. "Let''s go," he said.


    Rachel followed him without a word, still shaken, still processing.


    As they left the State Office, she glanced back at the men, seeing them watching them leave with curiosity and confusion in their expressions.


    Rachel lowered her head worriedly and simply followed after Darren. She only spoke when they were inside the car, away from prying eyes.


    Silence first, for a while. Darren was glaring into the office like he could see through.


    He must be angry, Rachel thought.


    "I''m sorry," she said softly. "I should''ve listened to you about coming here."


    Darren sighed as he gripped the steering wheel, but his tone was steady, calm. "You have nothing to be sorry about."


    Her brows jumped up.


    "It''s fine," he continued. "I can''t be angry with you for doing what benefits me. You put yourself in jeopardy just to make sure things went smoothly for me. I''d be unfair to hold that against you."


    Rachel exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. Her gaze danced around his face as she thought. How much nicer can he be?


    But Darren''s eyes darkened again as he looked at the Secretary of State through the car''s front window.


    "But those men," he said, voice clipped. "They''ll get a hold of Gareth Smithers soon enough. And they''ll tell him they saw you with me."


    Darren almost grunted. "I have to think of something fast."


    Rachel swallowed, her eyes fixed even deeper on him.


    Every second that past, it became clearer that she could trust this man. She''d only wished she''d summoned the courage to talk to him back when they worked together.


    She could have used a friend. And she had a feeling that he would have as well.


    Whatever the case, now, her fear had shifted into something else. Trust.


    Somehow she knew he would figure it out. Like he always has.


    He would take care of her and she would take care of his business. That is why it was so important for her to do things like this.


    It was the only real way she could pay him back for what he was doing for her. Her eyes lowered down his neck.


    Unless... would he want?


    Her cheeks reddened.


    No. She shook her head, pressing the hem of her gown. What was she even thinking? That''s... inappropriate.


    Silent now, she stole another glance at him and saw him click into action, starting the car and driving out of the lot.


    The drive was mostly quiet, not necessarily tense.


    Rachel didn''t know where they were going until the scenery changed, shifting from the city''s organized chaos to a more private, exclusive district.


    Large estates lined the streets, their driveways long, their entrances grand.


    She recognized this place as Greenbaby, one of the most expensive private/government owned streets in the state reserved for the wealthy.


    Did Darren live here?


    As though answering her question, Darren pulled into his own property.


    Rachel was stunned. It was a sprawling mansion, elegant in its structure, and that beautiful, pristine fountain at the front.


    Even the pathway leading up to the house looked like it belonged in a magazine.


    And that car... There was someone beside it.


    A woman?


    Darren had seen the woman too. His entire body seemed to tense at the sight of her and her car parked by the fountain.


    "Who''s that?" Rachel asked, still distracted by the mansion. "Wait... I know her."


    Darren didn''t reply. He pushed open his door, moving quickly. Rachel reached for her own door, but before she could touch the handle, Darren was already there, opening it for her.


    His eyes flicked toward the woman waiting by the fountain, sharp with irritation.


    Rachel got out but hesitated.


    "Go inside," Darren told her firmly. "Wait for me."


    She glanced toward the woman, who smiled at her¡ª smug, amused. Then she lifted a hand, wiggling her fingers in a lazy wave.


    Rachel didn''t respond. She turned and walked toward the house, doing exactly as Darren told her.


    Darren, on the other hand, stomped toward Brooklyn, his patience already running thin.


    She watched him approach, arms crossed, eyes dancing with mischief. "Is that who I think it is?" she mused. "Mr. Steele, you impress me by the moment."


    Once he stood feet to feet with her, Darren went at it, not wasting time with pleasantries. "What the hell is wrong with you?"


    Brooklyn raised a brow.


    "This is the second time you''ve trespassed on my property. Third time rather. You''re a journalist, not a private investigator. You can''t keep sneaking onto a private street just because you have an overinflated sense of entitlement."


    She smirked. But this time, her pretense wasn''t perfect. The hurt in her eyes showed slightly.


    Darren didn''t care.


    "You harass people for a living," he continued, tone biting. "You dig into their lives, spin stories for your own amusement, and have the audacity to call it journalism." He scoffed. "I don''t know what''s more pathetic¡ª your relentless need to stick your nose where it doesn''t belong or the fact that you actually believe you''re some kind of righteous truth-seeker."


    Brooklyn''s smirk faltered, but Darren wasn''t done.


    "And don''t even get me started on Business Everyday. If I had a dollar for every sensationalist, half-baked headline your studio pushed out, I''d be richer than I already am. But I guess that''s what happens when you sell out integrity for views, huh?"


    Brooklyn''s jaw tightened.


    Darren shook his head. "I don''t have time for whatever nonsense you came here for, so why don''t you turn around, get back in your car, and go find another scandal to exploit?"


    Silence stretched between them. Brooklyn threw her face down like she was holding back emotions, lips pressed thinly.


    Then she lifted her head and said, "I left."


    Darren''s brows creased. "What?"


    Brooklyn crossed her arms again, but there was something different in her stance now. It was less smug, more... restrained. "I left Business Everyday. I don''t work there anymore."


    Darren stared at her.


    "What?!"

 Chapter 74: Free of Bounds

    There were many kinds of news one would expect, but they were usually under the realm of possibility.


    What''s possible?


    Brooklyn Baker leaving Business Everyday certainly wasn''t possible. She was the top host and journalist for that media for many years.


    All the ten years that were to come!


    And now they''ve separated?


    That singular act of resigning from Gareth''s company, how many new events is it going to cause?


    Once again, he was messing with the timeline.


    Trying to figure it all out, Darren blinked, his frown deepening. His thoughts continued to stall for a moment before he finally said, "You left Business Everyday?"


    Brooklyn exhaled, crossing her arms. "Yeah. Well, technically they fired me. But yes."


    "Fired you?" His voice was skeptical, laced with disbelief. "You''re their best reporter. One of the best in the state."


    She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. "Well I''m glad you think that about me, Mr. Steele. But like my media manager said, I overestimated my power in the company."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. She was being serious. "Why did they fire you?" he asked.


    "Tried to do the right thing for a change," she sighed, looking down. "Look at where that got me."


    Darren gave her an eyebrow raise, making it clear that that answer wasn''t sufficient. Brooklyn looked up at him then away.


    "They''re burying the story. I came to work yesterday, ready to report one of the biggest stories of my career, but I was stopped at every turn. You know me, Steele, I don''t take kindly to people telling me to sit down and shut up. Not when I know a story has to come out. And besides, Gareth''s victims deserve justice."


    Darren watched her closely, gauging her expression. This time, unlike her usual, there was no performance in her tone, no exaggeration. She was telling the truth.


    "So I used what I thought was my trump card. I put my job on the line," she continued. "I went to my media manager and told her to either fire me or let me do what I needed to do."


    A small smirk ghosted her lips. "Guess which one they picked."


    Darren''s thoughts churned in his mind.


    Was this for real? Brooklyn Baker, walking away from a top news studio? That was unexpected.


    He had always assumed she only cared about the win; breaking the story first, getting the biggest audience, solidifying her name as one of the most relentless reporters out there.


    And to her credit, she had.


    In the former timeline, Brooklyn had become a pillar of news and business. Everything she said was seen as gospel, especially in the business world.


    He wondered if she would still reach those heights now she didn''t have the Everyday News backing.


    But even more surprising, he had never thought she actually cared about the people caught in the mess of her headlines.


    "I thought you didn''t care about that," he muttered.


    Brooklyn''s gaze flickered with something unreadable before she shrugged. "Turns out I do."


    Darren tilted his head slightly, studying her. He wasn''t sure whether to believe she was truly changing or if this was just another move.


    Brooklyn noticed the look and immediately scowled. "Hey, don''t start thinking I''ve gone soft or anything. I''m just doing what I think is right in this situation."


    Darren didn''t respond, just stared at her for a second before she sighed and moved on. "Anyway," she said, shifting her stance, "I''m going independent. No more answering to a studio. My name''s got enough weight to pull its own audience. At least I think so."


    Darren folded his arms. If she was that invasive when she had the rules of a company holding her back... how much worse was she going to be now that she was completely unrestrained?


    He also had another question.


    "Why are you telling me all of this?" he asked, his voice as cool as smoke. "Why call me a dozen times just to say you''re quitting your job?"


    Brooklyn immediately turned red, her lips parting before she clamped them shut. Her eyes darted away, and she brought down her hands like a child throwing a tantrum. "What? I just... I wanted you to know."


    Darren narrowed his gaze.


    Brooklyn turned even redder. She couldn''t bring herself to say it; that for some reason, his words before, when they had first spoken, had actually stung her.


    She''d been insulted before. She''d been called worse things by people she exposed. But somehow, when he said it, when he said he disliked her and other journalists, it had felt different.


    She quickly cleared her throat. "As I was saying, to get started, I need to feature some of my stories somewhere first. A magazine, something with reach, before I can build my own platform fully."


    Darren lifted a thinking brow. "A magazine, huh?" His mind flickered to Sophie. "I think I can help with that." Then he added firmly, "But that''s all you''ll be getting from me."


    Brooklyn smiled weakly at his face, shaking her head. "Fair." She said, and amused yet knowing glint in her eyes. "Thinking about it... I probably owe you more than you owe me. But I''ll make it up to you."


    Darren wasn''t sure he wanted to know what she meant by that.


    She smiled brighter now, then gave him a lazy salute. "See you around, Steele."


    With that, she turned, got into her car, and drove off.


    Darren watched the taillights disappear before he exhaled, rubbing his temple.


    What a damn headache that woman is.


    Shaking his head, he finally turned back toward his house, stepping inside.


    Rachel stood in the middle of the grand living space, her arms folded, one leg crossed over the other as she took in the sight around her.


    The awe in her expression was subtle, but he could see it. She was admiring his home.


    She looked almost small standing there, but something about the way she held herself kept her from being swallowed by it.


    At the sound of his footsteps, she turned to him. Darren noticed something in her eyes once she looked at him.


    It was an apology, guilt for not listening to him about coming along today.


    "Hey," she said softly.


    Darren let out a slow breath. "Hey."

 Chapter 75: The Teschmachers

    Even with the slight sense of security his presence provided, Darren could still see it in her eyes; the fear, the unease clinging to her like a shadow.


    Rachel was a type of woman who lived her life on composure, Darren knew that much about her. He saw this in real time too.


    She was desperately trying to compose herself, to pretend like the encounter at the state office hadn''t rattled her.


    Unlike usual, she wasn''t being very good at it today.


    The look on her face right now. Darren had seen that look before. The kind that came from knowing your life had suddenly shifted into dangerous territory.


    He moved toward the kitchen, saying nothing at first after the hey as he took out a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. "You''re still terrified," he said, not as an accusation, just a fact.


    Rachel exhaled, wrapping her arms around herself. "I''m trying not to be."


    He poured a glass, then paused. She needs something softer, he thought. He grabbed another glass, filling it with a smoother brandy before walking over and offering it to her. "Drink."


    She didn''t hesitate before taking it, besides, it was Darren who had given it to her.


    Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the glass. As the warmth seeped into her skin, they shared a gaze.


    Then, Rachel took a small sip, the burn sharp but comforting.


    Darren''s eyes steady when he spoke to her. "You don''t have to be afraid, Rachel."


    She gave a weak laugh, shaking her head. "Easy for you to say. You''re not the one who''s about to be hunted down by Gareth Smithers."


    His face said nothing.


    Rachel looked at him, then quickly shook her head, remorseful. "I''m sorry. I didn''t mean anything by that. I''m just... You''re right. I''m letting the fear get to me."


    Darren went to refill his glass. "Remember what I said?"


    She followed him with her eyes. "As long as you''re here, Gareth will never harm me."


    He poured the glass. "I know exactly what moves he''s going to make," he said confidently. "Gareth Smithers is a very predictable man. I''ve been with him long enough to know that."


    Rachel''s brows creased at that statement, confused. "You''ve only been with him for a few months."


    Darren sipped his whiskey. Well, if only she knew.


    He told her to take a seat on the couch, she did and he walked and sat towards her, facilitating a nervous smile.


    He sipped his whiskey for a moment in silence, and as he did, Rachel glanced to her side to study him.


    It was confusing to her how much younger he was and yet she had barely noticed it at all because of how he acted.


    The steadiness in his voice, the sheer certainty, the way he acted... the money he had.


    And how did he even get all this money? Was he ever going to tell her? She knew he was a finance guru, but... this was a lot to accomplish in one month.


    Because of all these, she knew that the things he was saying, he wasn''t just saying it to comfort her. He meant it.


    For the first time since the encounter, her body relaxed slightly.


    She took another sip, then sighed, staring at the amber liquid in her glass. "My family would have liked you," she said suddenly.


    Darren raised a brow. "Your family?"


    She nodded. "The Teschmachers. I don''t know if you know of them."


    Darren frowned in thought. ''Is Rachel from a powerful family? And why is she bringing this up like she''s suggesting marriage.''


    Not noticing the nervous expression on Darren''s face, Rachel continued. "We were... well, my father''s side was known for weapons manufacturing. Generations of it. Our name was tied to some of the best arms deals across Europe."


    Darren''s expression remained neutral, but he listened closely.


    "We were wealthy, powerful... but my mother hated it. She was from a quieter family, one that wanted nothing to do with war or weapons. She fell in love with my father anyway. But she told him, from the start, that if he ever put his business before his family, she would leave."


    Rachel''s voice softened, a bitter edge creeping in. "And he did. Again and again."


    Darren said nothing, letting her speak.


    "He was obsessed with legacy, with keeping the Teschmacher name dominant. He thought it would make up for everything else. But my mother... she couldn''t take it. One day, she left, just like she said she would. Took my younger brother with her."


    Darren frowned slightly. "And you?"


    Rachel smiled, but it was sad. "I stayed. I thought maybe if I just tried harder, if I made myself indispensable to him, put my efforts into the family''s business, he would cherish me just as he cherished it."


    "You know..." her voice halted. "...I was trying to borrow some of the attention he gave... the business... by joining him in it. It was silly and pathetic, I know."


    Darren''s jaw clenched. He didn''t think it was either of those at all. He''d seen this before ¡ª children who clung desperately to absent parents, hoping, praying, that their sacrifice could be enough to change them.


    It usually never was.


    Rachel stared ahead, her voice growing distant. "But of course, it didn''t work. He barely noticed me. Never spoke to me except in the confines of the headquarters. I was just another piece of his empire. When I got older, I tried to carve my own path. I went into finance, business... anything that would prove I was worth more than just my last name."


    She let out a breath. "But then... it all fell apart. Just like this, I was involved in a scandal. One I had no idea of."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed.


    "Someone inside the company was making illegal deals. Terrorists, gangs, cults, enemy nations, you name it. The authorities cracked down hard, and our name was dragged through the mud. Everything we built... gone, just like that."


    Darren watched her closely, his grip on his glass tightening.


    "My father couldn''t handle it. He took what was left of his fortune and disappeared. I never saw him again."


    Silence settled between them.


    Rachel exhaled slowly. "Gareth knew my father, and well, he offered me the job the moment he saw me. At first I thought he was the nicest man in the world for doing that. But then... I found out what his true motives were."


    Her face fell. "I don''t think I''ve ever really felt secure. Never felt like I had solid ground beneath my feet." Her fingers traced the rim of her glass. "At least not since leaving my family."


    She hesitated, tightening her lips before continuing.


    "Except..."


    She bit her lip now, finally looked up at him, her cheeks coloring slightly.


    "...Except when I''m with you."


    A quiet, vulnerable confession.


    Darren''s chest tightened as she slowly leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder. The weight of her, the trust in that small action, sent something stirring deep inside him.


    "When I''m with you," she murmured, "I feel the most safe. Like I know nothing is going to happen to me. Because you won''t allow it. And you don''t even have to say it most of the time."


    "I already know."


    Darren swallowed, feeling his throat tightening. "Is that why you''re so keen on helping me start my company?"


    She stared at the flower vase on his table, then quietly answered, "Yes. Nothing is going to happen to you either. Because I won''t allow it."


    His breath trapped slightly as she continued, voice steady despite the faint tremor in it.


    "I want to make sure that everything is done to perfection. That you''ll be satisfied."


    Darren felt his heartbeat pick up. Was this really the Silent Witch? He''d never expected her to be so expressive in her emotions. So poetic and sentimental.


    He looked down at her, the way her lashes fluttered slightly, the faint warmth of her breath against his collarbone.


    Slowly, he lifted a hand, placing it over her shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. Of understanding.


    The room was quiet. Rachel softly said, "I don''t want to go back to the hotel tonight."


    Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a confession.


    She pulled back slightly to look up at him, her eyes searching. "Can I stay here?"


    Darren didn''t answer right away. He just looked at her, his mind weighing the moment, the significance of what she was asking.


    "...Yes," he simply replied.


    Rachel''s eyes flickered with relief, trust, admiration, and desire. All the words used to replace and cloak that very powerful L word.


    She continued to look up at him.


    And he looked down at her.


    Before either of them could think, before hesitation could creep in, she stretched her neck, reaching for his face with her lips.


    And Darren leaned in.


    Their lips met.


    The kiss was soft at first, a slow press of warmth and need. Then deeper, as if sealing something between them, something unspoken yet understood.


    The taste of brandy on her lips, the way her fingers gripped his shirt lightly. Darren felt himself sinking into it, into her.


    The objects in the living room braced themselves to witness another romantic encounter.

 Chapter 76 76: Rachels Devotion

    Darren didn''t have the most booming sex life. He had always been conservative and reserved about all that stuff.


    At least that was what he liked to tell himself. The truth was that he would have slept with a lot of women if he had been given the opportunity. And he believed that was true for many men.


    Lily was the woman who had taken his virginity, and she remained the only woman he''d slept with up until his regression.


    But after breaking that barrier with the real estate agent a month ago, Darren was almost a new man.


    And sex. Sex was the best thing ever.


    However, as his and Rachel''s lips continued to rub against each other, tongues intertwining, the taste of their saliva exchanging with each other, there was a sudden rush of emotions that gushed through him.


    He watched as she ran her hands over his chest, feeling her tinglish fingers tracing the contours of his muscles.


    She was determined, single-minded, and wanting. She pushed her head higher, her lips pressing into his more and more. She wanted him to like it. And he did.


    The way she kissed him. It was like she didn''t only care for how his lips felt on hers, but she wanted hers to feel right on his.


    They were succulent, moisturized on the top and oiled to the depths of its texture. With each kiss, her lips wet the more, saliva mingling with the fabric of her delicious mouth.


    Darren found himself wanting more. He''d never expected that he''d be so excited and hungry over a kiss.


    When she pulled away to explore more of his body, Rachel saw his hunger and offered him her lips one more time.


    Darren took it voraciously, getting up from his sitting position and falling over her. She laid back slowly, accepting his skin while fighting his tux to leave his body.


    Once the suit was gone, her lips were free to explore at last.


    She started from his neck, the color of her lipstick autographing his skin, leaving a trail of dark red from his lower neck, down to chest and his belly.


    Rachel took her time, her tongue darting out occasionally to tease him, making him squirm with anticipation.


    He grabbed her by the face and forced her to look at him.


    Her eyes portrayed pure diligence and desire.


    Darren''s expression softened, though his thoughts were difficult to explain. This woman...


    "What are you doing?" he asked her.


    Rachel seemed to smile at his poor attempt to maintain control. "You''ve never had a woman truly please you before have you?"


    Darren''s eyes quivered uncontrollably.


    "Let me sir," she said. "That is all I want to do. Let me please you."


    She placed her hand on the waistband of his pants, eyes still locked in a trancing gaze with him.


    "Will you?" asked, her voice filled with a mix of desire and determination. "Will you let me please you?"


    Darren could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Then, with a gardening of both his gaze and his manhood, he replied, "Please me, Rachel. But I''ll tell you what pleases me."


    She giggled naughtily, soft and almost unheard. Both that enthralling look in her eyes. Heavens. Faces like that could melt any man away.


    "You are my boss," she whispered. "Whatever you say, goes."


    She unbuttoned his pants, and sunk her invasive fingers into his boxers.


    They brushed against his growing erection, earning a soft groan from the young, handsome investor.


    Rachel looked up at him, her dull blue eyes glistening with stars and submission. "Does this please you, sir?"


    Darren''s hands moved to tangle in her hair as she caressed his length while working his pants off.


    "Yes it does."


    "It pleases me."


    Rachel moved. She got him to sit on the couch while submitting to her knees before him.


    She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a devotion that made him ache. First, she spat on her palm ¡ª both of them in fact ¡ª then, her hands reached out, wrapping around his cock, with the thumb rubbing over the head.


    Darren''s breath hitched, his hips bucking slightly at the sensation.


    "How about that?" she asked him.


    He fought a groan. "That pleases me."


    Motivated, Rachel leaned in, her breath hot against him as she opened her mouth and took him in it.


    She started slow, her tongue swirling around the head before she began to take him deeper.


    Darren could feel the vibrations of her moans, the sound muffled by his cock in her mouth. He looked down, his eyes locked onto the sight of her head bobbing up and down, her lips wrapped tightly around him.


    She took him deep, pressing her nose against his pelvis.


    Darren''s thighs clenched. He could feel the sensation, the tightness, the wet heat of her mouth and his head squeezed at the near bottom of her throat.


    He let out a soft groan, tightening his hands in her hair. Rachel pulled back, her tongue flicking against the underside of his cock before she immediately took him deep again.


    Darren almost lost his mind. His fingers and toes clenched at the same time.


    Almost all of them cracked.


    The sound of her mouth working him filled the room, the wet suction echoing through the apartment.


    Darren could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as Rachel worked him. He looked down at her, her eyes watering slightly as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked.


    "Rachel," he groaned, his voice ragged. "You''re so fucking good at that."


    She let out a soft moan in response, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Darren could feel himself getting closer, his body tensing as the pleasure built.


    Rachel seemed to sense it too, her pace quickening as she took him deeper, her hand working the base of his cock in time with her mouth.


    Darren''s body tensed. At that moment, he was unable to even do anything. He had no control over his own member, and the cum just shot out of his cock tube, hips bucking as he came.


    Rachel only shut her eyes for a moment. But she made sure to take him deep, her throat working as she swallowed every last drop. She kept sucking, her tongue swirling around him as she milked him dry.


    Darren let out a shaky breath, his body relaxing as the pleasure subsided.


    He looked down at Rachel, her eyes filled with satisfaction as she pulled back, her lips glistening with his cum.


    She gasped, looked away and began to cough her lungs out for a while.


    Darren was half scared, but he realized then that she wasn''t exactly a pro in this.


    Was it her devotion to serve him that led her to give him the most amazing blowjob of his life?


    "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, lowering his head to check on her.


    She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a sense of accomplishment, but also a hopeful inquiry.


    "Did that please you?" she asked, her voice soft.


    Darren''s gaze lit up with surprise and excitement. "Yes he said," staring into her eyes. "Yes it did."


    Rachel had this look of satisfaction and happiness in her face. Seeing her kneeling there with her red work gown still covering her beautiful body, Darren wanted nothing but to fuck her.

 Chapter 77 77: To Please

    Darren grabbed her.


    She didn''t even get the chance to react, she could only wrap her hands around his neck as she was raised from the floor where she had been kneeling and lifted up.


    She let out a yelp of surprise, but he dumped her down on the couch, her hair falling over her face.


    Gently he moved the strands of hair from her face with his fingers.


    "I love seeing both of your eyes," he said to her in a whisper, causing her face to redden uncontrollably.


    Carefully, Darren began to peel off the gown gown from her body. She assisted him, although she couldn''t bring herself to look away from his face.


    Once the gown was all gone, he threw it so far away it hung on the dispenser.


    Darren barely cared. His eyes were on its target ¡ª Rachel, staring at her with primal hunger.


    He lowered his body and ushered his revenge on her. Tattooing her body with his own kisses.


    Though they were not as visible as hers, his lips still trailed down her neck. He reached for her bra and pulled one cup down, his hand wrapped around the naked breast, then gave it a soft squeeze.


    Rachel gasped and moaned, raising her shoulders.


    He rubbed his thumbs over her nipple, making her gasp even louder.


    "Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice low.


    Rachel nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. Darren moved his lips then, finding her nipple with and using his tongue to draw circles around it.


    Rachel moaned louder now, her hands fisting his hair.


    Darren straightened, his eyes meeting hers. "The thing is, pleasing you pleases me as well," he said, his husky voice filled with emotion.


    Rachel''s eyes searched his, her breath hitching. "But all I want to do is please you," she whispered.


    Darren quietly reached for her bra, his hands slipping it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving her teardrop breasts resting above her tummy.


    Her panties were all that was covering her Eve. He took his head back, his eyes taking her in.


    "You''re stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.


    Rachel blushed again, casting her eyes down. "You''re saying something like that now..."


    Darren leaned in. "Because I mean it."


    His lips captured hers in a deep, passionate kiss. And at the same time, his hands explored her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips.


    Rachel ¡ª the stubborn pleaser she was ¡ª couldn''t let him do all the work. And so she reached for his cock, stroking it as he kissed her.


    Darren pulled away from her lips and groaned in pleasure. Then, he whispered something in her ear.


    "I want to taste you."


    Rachel''s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed. She''d never really enjoyed being eaten, the only person who''d ever done it to her, did with no passion and pure anger.


    Maybe with Darren... No. Surely, with Darren, it would be better.


    His lips moved lower, tongue tracing the valley between her breasts, as the succulent, skin covered pillows brushed against his cheeks.


    Rachel moaned, her fingernails clawing the fabric of the couch.


    Darren''s hand slipped between her legs, his fingers pulling her panties to the side. Rachel moaned, moving her hips against his hand.


    "Look at you, already excited," Darren grinned slightly, his fingers buried inside her, making her gasp.


    "You''re so wet, too" he added, voice filled with desire.


    Rachel nodded, her breath coming in short gasps.


    The feeling of Darren''s fingers inside her, it was almost making her head spin. His fingers moved in and out of her, his thumb circling her clit.


    She began to moan uncontrollably. They filled the room, her hips also moving against his hand like she had no power over it.


    Then came his lips.


    They moved lower, and the first thing he did was tease her clit with the tip of his tongue.


    Rachel gasped, her hands fisting his hair. Darren''s tongue circled her clit, making her moan even louder. His fingers remained inside her as he did this, thrusting softly, causing more gasps and moans from the pleasure - filled girl.


    "Sir," Rachel moaned, hips still moving against his hand. "You''re making me..."


    His fingers remained relentless, moving in and out of her. When he pulled them out, his tongue took over, fucking her with its coarse wetness.


    Rachel''s moans engulfed the room, her body tense.


    "Oh gosh!" She yelped, shooting her trembling body upwards.


    Darren should have stopped, but his tongue moved faster, deeper.


    "Oh God, oh God," Rachel moaned, body convulsing. "Oh Godddd!"


    She squirted.


    When her body collapsed to the couch, trying to catch her breath, she lifted her gaze and saw Darren''s face covered with her juices.


    "Oh no!" she gasped, covering her mouth. "I''m sorry."


    Darren scoffed tauntingly. "It''s fine."


    She still looked out of it, her eyes wide with bother and shock. "That has never happened to me before."


    "You''ve never squirted?" he said with a brow raise.


    She shook her head. "I didn''t even know I could."


    "Now you do."


    Darren reached for her thighs while she gazed at him with eyes of passion and affection.


    Those emotions drove her to reach for his cock, wrapping her fingers around it.


    Darren groaned, slowly moving his hips against her hand. Rachel''s thumb rubbed over the head of his cock, making him gasp slightly.


    She let the cock rest against her abdomen, pressing into her skin. Her pussy, just waiting below. Throbbing.


    "It''s my turn," she whispered romantically. "Use me to please yourself."


    Darren''s eyes met hers, breath tightening in his throat from her provocative words.


    It was like fuel, driving his passion.


    He briskly positioned himself between her legs, pressing his cock against her entrance. Rachel''s hands found his hips, guiding him inside her.


    "Please. Do it. Let me satisfy you, sir."


    Darren slipped inside her, and she gasped at the weight of it in her walls. "Ugh¡ª It feels... So full."


    He moved slowly, his eyes on hers, her eyes on his. As he thrusted into her, she held him by his lower back, inciting him to keep going.


    "You feel so good," Darren whispered, his voice filled with emotion.


    Rachel nodded, unable to speak with her gasping breath. Darren started to move faster, his cock filling her, and she had no choice but to moan.


    She couldn''t stop it.


    It filled the room as her body moved with his.


    He fucked her. Pounded her from then on. With seductive moans like that, how couldn''t he?


    They were like nitro in an asphalt game, pushing his hips to thrust harder.


    When he caught sight of her beautiful neck, he reached for it like Count Dracula, nipping at her skin with his teeth.


    Rachel moaned, her hands fisting his hair, feeling her insides expand and release. Darren''s cock did that.


    It moved in and out of her, making her gasp and moan each time.


    She rode him after, and then sucked his cock more. Then he fucked her doggy style, pulling her hair from behind.


    In this position, Rachel could feel every inch of his cock, hammering inside of her as his pelvis struck her ass, causing it to ripple.


    She couldn''t believe it when she felt it, but she knew it was it. It was actually happening.


    "I''m... I''m going to cum," Rachel moaned. "I''m going to cum."


    Hearing this, Darren''s hips moved faster, filling her up over and over again with his cock.


    Then she squeezed inside as the rush of vibrations reverberated through her body. It was like she convulsed, and before she had the chance, Darren''s lips captured hers, swallowing her cries.


    His cock was resting on her thigh, cum leaking out of it and pouring on her sweat-glistening skin.


    He was also shaking from the pleasure of the orgasm, but he was more focused on comforting her during her first.


    "You were amazing," he whispered to her.


    Rachel''s eyes fluttered open and she looked down at his cock on her thigh. "We came at the same time?"


    He lifted his head and smiled. "Yes, we did."


    She seemed happy to hear that. However, her eyes lifted to him one more time with another question. "Were you pleased?"


    Darren stared at her, his heart filling up with a strong, uncontrollable emotion. "I''ve never been more pleased, Rachel."

 Chapter 78: Ghosts of the Office

    Lily Smithers sat at her desk, the heart shaped pendant of her golden necklace dangled below her face, and for a moment, she''d been staring at it.


    Even on her dainty face, stress was slowly taking its toll. She appeared greatly tired, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her like an iron shackle.


    She was in her office, the sound of the AC humming in the back of her head like an undertone to her thoughts.


    How did things change so fast?


    It had started with that day when Darren had shown up to work with that look of dejection and indifference in his face. The day he had resigned.


    Before Lily''s eyes, everything just slowly stopped being as they used to be.


    The once-vibrant office, filled with chatter and clacking typewriters, now felt eerily hollow.


    The scandal was the main reason of course. It had gutted the company. Not only did the employees who had reported resigned, but others who didn''t want to be associated with any of that dipped as well, even though they were assured it would be handled.


    Now, only empty chairs and silent halls were left in their wake.


    It wasn''t completely empty of course. There were still many employees, because well... the pay was good, especially now.


    But, the difference was still stark.


    Lily brushed a strand of her golden curls from her face, eyes scanning the endless paperwork before her.


    Numbers, expenses, dwindling assets.


    Every line was another reminder that Smithers Group was bleeding out, and she, momentarily occupying the position of Financial Secretary, was left to patch the wounds.


    It was times like this that she really missed Darren. He would have helped with these numbers especially.


    Her fingers gripped the pen tightly as she tried to push away the thoughts and focus. "That awful guy... Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to leave her like this?"


    The exhaustion, the stress¡ª it was eating her alive.


    She just wanted to talk to him. She took out her phone, dialed his number.


    ''This number is unavailable. Please try again later.''


    Lily dropped the phone on the table, burying her face in her palms.


    She was just about to cry, when¡ª


    "LILY!"


    Her father''s bellow echoed through the office walls, snapping her out of her emotions. She exhaled and dried the wet eyes carefully. What now?


    Pushing back from the desk, Lily rose and made her way out, her heels clicking against the marble floor. As she stepped into the corridor, she took a moment to scan the office.


    Usually, there weren''t empty desks and chairs between these employees. Every cubicle used to be filled, every seat occupied by an employee hustling under her father''s rule.


    But now? They were so separated from each other it seemed like an examination hall.


    She clenched her jaw, swallowing down the lump in her throat.


    If things didn''t change fast, the company would crumble.


    She could only hope that the batch of applicants currently being interviewed could fill some of the gaps before things get worse.


    Her father had promised to give her this company when he stepped down. She would like for there to be something to own when that happens.


    Pushing the thought aside, she stepped into her father''s office, where the grumpy old man sat hunched over his desk, irritation twisting his face into something even more unpleasant than usual.


    The tension in the air was thick.


    Lily braced herself. "What is it, Dad?"


    Gareth didn''t waste time. "This is Theodore James, one of my business partners, and that''s his friend John Cartman. We were conversing about business and they just claimed that they ran into Rachel ¡ª my damn secretary ¡ª in the Secretary of State''s Office. And you know what? She wasn''t alone. Can you guess who she was with, my dear daughter?"


    Lily frowned. "Darren?"


    Gareth fumed with rage. "That son of a fat whore, scoundrel!"


    Lily was shocked, not by her father''s words, she was used to those, but by the situation. She turned to the two men.


    "Are you sure it was him? Darren Steele?"


    One of the men in Gareth''s office shrugged. "Like we said. The face in the picture he showed us is similar, but¡ª"


    He hesitated, as if struggling to put it into words. "¡ªhe was more... polished. Wore a suit. Had this terrifying aura about him." The man shivered slightly. "I don''t know how else to explain it."


    ''Terrifying aura?'' Lily narrowed her eyes in thought. ''I did get that about him when we met in the real estate.''


    "Rachel was sent to talk to Darren," she said to her father. "If these men claimed the guy looked like Darren... then it has to be him. He did look different last time I saw him."


    Gareth scoffed. "What are you trying to say? That he''s turned into some powerful man overnight? A terrifying aura, stop kidding me! That boy is a joke! And that''s all he''ll ever be."


    Lily felt heat creep up her neck, her face growing red. She ignored her father''s rant and focused on the matter.


    Darren had somehow poached Rachel, made her join him and leave her father.


    Why would she agree to that? And how was he even able to do that? She was a cold buzz kill, wasn''t she?


    The Silent Witch was what they used to call her.


    So how?


    How the hell had he done it?


    She thought deeper. "What could he be doing in a place like the Secretary of State''s Office?"


    Everyone fell silent.


    Then, Gareth''s eyes widened. A slow, dangerous realization.


    "...What are you saying?" His tone became even more defensive. "You think he actually did it?" His fingers curled into fists. "That he managed to¡ª"


    The words tasted bitter on his tongue.


    "¡ªmake a company?!"


    His voice rose, fury boiling over. "No, that''s not possible!"


    "That''s the only reason I can imagine him going there, Dad."


    "Nghh!" Gareth slammed his fist on the table. "He spits on my face every time. I''ll deal with that wet toilet paper myself! I''ll mess him up!"


    Lily opened her mouth to speak, but Gareth was already grabbing his phone, his thick fingers jabbing the numbers in a barely restrained rage.


    The line rang. Once. Twice. Then¡ª


    "Morrison''s Hospital. This is Nurse Helen speaking. How may I assist you?"


    "I''m looking for a patient. A woman suffering from aortic diseases. Name''s Pamela."


    A brief silence.


    Gareth thought to himself. ''I''m going to demand that woman be taken out of the hospital. He''ll come crawling back for me to help him!''


    Then, the nurse answered:


    "I''m sorry, sir, but that client was discharged weeks ago. Her son moved her to another hospital."


    Gareth stiffened. "What?!"


    His grip on the phone tightened. "And did he pay the bills?"


    Helen wanted to ask questions, but she has to remain professional. "Yes he did sir, sir. All of them."


    Gareth froze.


    Then, his entire face twisted in rage.


    "That bastard¡ª! How was he able to pay the bill? It was in the thousands!"


    Slamming the phone down, he seethed. "I need to call Ryan Anders. He''ll deal with this riffraff."


    Sweating like a bricklayer, he turned back to Lily, pointing a finger at her.


    "You have one last chance to bring him back under our control."


    He laid out his plan. The things she needed to do. The ways she could lure Darren back, push him into submission.


    Lily stiffened. She wanted to tell her father that she couldn''t do it anymore.


    Her chest felt tight with fear and anxiety. She knew she couldn''t say no to him.


    She had no choice.


    Gareth found Ryan Anders''s number and called him.


    The soft voice of the Head of MWMO answered. "Ryan Anders speaking."


    Gareth wasted no time.


    "I have a name for you. I remembered." His breathing was heavy. "The loose end that you need to settle"


    Ryan appeared disinterested. "Okay," he exhaled, picking a pen. "Go ahead, Mr. Smithers."


    "Darren Steele," Gareth said. "His name is Darren Steele."


    Silence. Ryan wrote down the name.


    "Alright then. I''ll get to work," Ryan said simply. He hung up.


    He relaxed on his chair and crossed his fingers. "Bring him in."


    Amelia opened the door and Rico Evans walked into the office, a nervous expression on his face.


    "Rico," Ryan smiled devilishly. "Tell me you have a name."


    Rico hesitated for a moment, fumbling with the hand of his bag. He was clearly unsettled.


    Ryan''s eyes darkened. "Prison cells are cold, Rico. Give me a name and be a free man."


    Rico''s face fell in shame for a moment, before he took a deep breath and replied. "His name is Darren Steele."


    Silence.


    Ryan''s brows creased.


    Slowly... mind reeling... his eyes looked down at the name he''d just written a moment ago.


    "What did you just say?"

 Chapter 79: The Scheming Spa

    The air inside the Crestview Spa Lounge was thick with the scent of sandalwood and lavender.


    Soft music played in the background, an elegant, almost deceptive contrast to the two men currently plotting within the lavish, dimly lit room.


    Richard Morrison, the handsome and charismatic CEO of the Morrison? brand, lounged in a cushioned recliner, draped in a silk robe.


    His main medium of entertainment ¡ª a newspaper lay open in his hands, the headline barely of interest to him ¡ª his mind was far more occupied with schemes of his own.


    Behind him, Catherine Langley, the media manager of Business Everyday, kneaded his shoulders with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to apply pressure.


    She wet her palms with an expensive golden balm, then rubbed it gently from his shoulders down to his back.


    Even for his age, Richard still had a fairly toned and able body. A result of extravagant treatments such as this.


    Standing a few feet away, arms sunk into the pockets of his suit''s trousers, was Ryan Anders.


    Unlike Morrison, he wasn''t one for indulgence. He didn''t enjoy soft and delicate this, he found pleasure in more exciting yet forbidden acts.


    But for today, he was about business. As he floated in thought, his gaze was dark, his lips pressed into a line, considering the moves ahead after the specific courses of events that had happened the last day.


    "You''ve been quiet, Ryan," Morrison murmured without looking up from his newspaper. "Unusual for a man who enjoys the sound of his own thoughts."


    Ryan smirked, barely. "Thinking."


    "A dangerous pastime."


    "The most rewarding one," Ryan countered smoothly.


    Morrison chuckled, finally folding his newspaper and setting it aside. He took a sip of the whiskey beside him, the ice clinking softly. "I assume you''ve come with good news?"


    Ryan exhaled, stepping forward. "I''ve been consolidating our approach. If we want Miss Cheyenne Lamb out of the Empire Companies, we have to be precise."


    Morrison tilted his head back, considering. "Ah. Precision. You''ve always been a sharpshooter, Ryan. We also have to be ruthless, don''t you think?"


    Ryan nodded. "Of course."


    He paused for a moment before continuing.


    "We''re going to need the Sinclairs, the Zurichs, and the Nelsons," Ryan stated. "They''ve all suffered losses because of Cheyenne. If we can make them see that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to crush her, they''ll bite."


    Morrison smirked. "The Sinclairs are greedy. Dangle enough money in front of them, and they''ll bend. Is that not why their own daughter wants to create a company away from theirs. Foolish people they are."


    Ryan nodded. "Yes, it is an interesting case. I reckon the Zurichs are more difficult. They don''t trust easily, but if we fabricate evidence of Cheyenne moving against them, they''ll retaliate instinctively."


    "And the Nelsons?" Morrison arched an eyebrow.


    Ryan''s smirk deepened. "Give them a scandal. Their son is very smart, he''s running most of the business well as of recently. Even after the robbery he''d managed to bounce back. But I don''t think they could survive a scandal in the midst of it."


    Morrison let out a laugh, short and pleased. "That''s why I like you, Anders. Always thinking three steps ahead."


    Ryan allowed himself a small, knowing smile. "We make it seem like Cheyenne''s been cooking the books, and the Nelsons ¡ª self-righteous as they are ¡ª will call for her head before anyone else does."


    Catherine, still working her fingers into Morrison''s shoulders, let out a quiet hum of amusement. "I think it is brilliant, sir," she murmured. "Pit them against her and watch them tear her apart."


    Ryan frowned, narrowing his eyes at the woman. ''Who told the whore to talk?'' he thought. ''These stupid women need to learn to speak only when spoken to.''


    Morrison exhaled, still enjoying the idea. "And once the Sinclairs, Zurichs, and Nelsons push her to the edge, we swoop in as the saviors?"


    Ryan nodded. "Exactly. A clean transition. Once the dust settles, we take her place. Her loan privileges, tax cuts, all the merits she enjoys by being an Empire Company."


    Morrison sighed in satisfaction. "Now that... is what I like to hear." His eyes narrowed. "Though, there is a question. What if another company rises to take her place before we have the chance?"


    "It won''t happen," Ryan replied confidently. "When companies see that even the great Bordeaux Corporation could fall, they wouldn''t dare compete with Morrison''s?, or Moon Enterprises."


    Richard laughed. "You are my favorite person to be around, Ryan Anders."


    He smiled.


    For a while, silence filled the room. .


    Then Morrison moaned. "You''re doing a fine job there, Catherine."


    "Thank you, sir," she replied with a nervous smile.


    Morrison remembered something. "Say, that girl, the reporter... she left?"


    Catherine stiffened slightly. "Yes. Brooklyn refused to back down. Said she''d rather be fired."


    Morrison expressed a frown. "A shame. I would''ve liked to keep her around. She''s got a pretty face." His fingers drummed against the armrest. "Would''ve made a fine addition to my personal collection."


    Catherine smirked but remained silent.


    Then Morrison''s eyes flickered toward her, sharper now. "Did you let her keep the expose??"


    Catherine stilled.


    "...I didn''t think she''d¡ª"


    Morrison sat forward slowly. "You didn''t stop her?" His tone was dangerous now, the amusement in his voice all but gone. "Catherine... do you realize that means Brooklyn has no restraints now. She can leak the story if she wants."


    Catherine swallowed. "She has no platform."


    "She doesn''t need one," Ryan interjected. His voice was calm but edged. "All it takes is for a popular enough magazine or newspaper to get a hold of it, and we''re dealing with a very public mess."


    Morrison scowled. "Tch. I always wonder if we should just abandon that fool Smithers and his company. I don''t know why Archibald likes him so much."


    He turned his gaze back to Ryan. "Speaking of, have you handled the loose end he told you of?"


    Ryan''s expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing. "No."


    Morrison''s frown deepened. "Why the hell not?"


    Ryan exhaled. "We''ve halted it indefinitely."


    Morrison narrowed his eyes, knowing that Ryan was up to something. "And why exactly would we do that?"


    Ryan''s voice was firm. "Because the name of this person is very special to me." He stared at the wall. "This person you see, is my soulmate. My friend."


    -----


    And through the grand entrance of Golden Hay Hotels, Darren Steele stepped in, with Rachel by his side.

 Chapter 80 80: Collision

    "Speaking of, have you handled the loose end he told you of?"


    Ryan''s expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing. "No."


    Morrison''s frown deepened. "Why the hell not?"


    Ryan exhaled. "We''ve halted it indefinitely."


    Morrison narrowed his eyes, knowing that Ryan was up to something. "And why exactly would we do that?"


    Ryan''s voice was firm. "Because the name of this person is very special to me." He stared at the wall. "This person you see, is my soulmate. My friend."


    -----


    And through the grand entrance of Golden Hay Hotels, Darren Steele stepped in, with Rachel by his side.


    Like usual, the air smelled of wealth, expensive colognes, fine whiskey, and polished leather mingled into an atmosphere of silent opulence.


    Darren''s new black coat ¡ª picked by Rachel herself ¡ª flowed behind him, her heels clicked sharply against the tiles.


    Abruptly, Darren stopped walking and checked the time on his watch.


    This caused an impact.


    A firm shoulder from behind, collided with Darren''s back, leading to a flurry of papers scattering into the air like autumn leaves.


    A man let out a startled "Oh!" before bending down in a frantic rush, muttering apologies under his breath as he scrambled to collect the mess.


    Rachel''s reaction was instant. She snapped her head toward the man, the brow of her visible sharp eye furrowing.


    "You are not blind, are you?" she said, coming in defense of her boss. "How about watching where you''re going before you run into people?"


    The man ¡ª a wiry, average-height individual in a slightly disheveled navy suit ¡ª looked up, eyes wide behind thin-rimmed glasses.


    His sandy brown hair was slightly ruffled, and his tie was loose, as if he''d been pulling at it all day. His movements were hurried, nervous energy practically radiating from him.


    "I''m so sorry!" he babbled, shuffling papers together. "I''m just overwhelmed by today, truly I apologize. Meetings, calls, people breathing down my neck¡ª ha! You know how it is ¡ª well, maybe you don''t, but, uh ¡ª wow, this is a mess. I apologize," he looked up at them. "Once again."


    Darren''s gaze fixed on him.


    "It''s fine, Rachel. It was my fault he ran into me."


    Rachel turned to Darren, clearly about to protest, but he gave her a subtle shake of the head. With a sigh, she relented.


    As the man picked his papers, Darren''s eyes caught one that had fluttered further away. He stepped over, crouching to pick it up. But before returning it, he took a glance.


    The heading read:


    ''Andy Nashville


    Senior Analyst, Consultant, and Head Hunter


    Sagomoto Wealth Offices''


    Beneath the name, bolded text read:


    ''Profile Build-Up for the Head Hunting of Mystery Investor: FuglyDuckling.''


    Darren''s eyes turned curious. ''Sagomoto Wealth Offices. I remember them well.''


    In his last timeline, they had been one of the few firms that stood strong in a major court battle against Moon Wealth Management Offices, defending a client against all odds.


    As far as Darren could recall, they had a reputation for integrity, something rare in the financial world.


    ''So they are looking for me as well?'' he thought. ''Wow. Didn''t know I was that much of a hot draft pick.''


    Keeping his face neutral, he returned the paper.


    "Here," Darren said, offering it back.


    Andy Nashville looked up, flustered but grateful. "Oh! Thanks, thanks, man, you''re a lifesaver. That would''ve been a problem if I lost that!"


    Darren gave a slight nod. "No problem. I''m Darren Steele. This is my secretary, Rachel Teschmacher."


    Andy fumbled to shake his hand, but when his fingers gripped Darren''s, he stiffened slightly, his pupils dilating just a bit.


    ''Oh wow. He has some intimidating aura for such a young face.''


    Darren exuded something beyond wealth or confidence. The boy had presence, and that was something that Andy knew helped greatly in the world of business where deals had to be made and contracts had to be signed.


    He knew this because he himself lacked greatly in presence, but at least he made up with it using his nerdy charisma!


    "Uh ¡ª right! Andy Nashville," he managed, clearing his throat and withdrawing his hand. "I work for Sagomoto Wealth Offices. Senior analyst and... all that."


    Darren studied him for a moment before saying, "I''m actually just starting a business. We''re new, still growing. We don''t have much money, but I was wondering if Sagomoto Wealth Offices would consider taking us as a client."


    Rachel glanced at Darren with curiosity.


    This was a test by Darren to know whether Sagomoto Wealth Offices were as genuine as they claimed.


    Would they agree to sign him and manage his wealth, or would they dump him to the side, catering only to the elite and wealthy companies like Moon Wealth Management Offices did?


    Andy blinked, then immediately straightened. "Oh, absolutely! It''s no problem if you''re just starting out. I think that''s when it''s most important in fact! We help businesses grow. As long as your business is legal and has been cleared by the State Office, we''d be happy to work with you."


    Rachel''s lips quirked. "It has been cleared." Her voice was firm, making Andy chuckle nervously.


    "Your secretary is quite stern, huh?" he remarked.


    "She isn''t always like this," Darren said, smirking.


    Rachel''s cheeks turned pink and she nudged his arm slightly.


    Darren held back a smile.


    Andy then tilted his head. "So, uh, what kind of business is it?"


    Rachel answered, "A diversified investment firm specializing in both traditional and digital asset classes, including equities, real estate, and cryptocurrencies."


    Andy''s brows lifted. "Oh, okay. Crypto currency, huh? That''s funny, actually ¡ª I''m looking for a mystery investor who''s been making waves in the crypto world recently. He''s called FuglyDuckling."


    Darren''s expression stayed bland. Rachel, however, glanced at him, raising a brow slightly.


    Andy chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "You probably don''t know anything about that, though."


    Darren still stayed expressionless.


    "Well, anyway," Andy continued. "I''m on my way to a meeting to finalize a deal with Grant Hayes. It''s exciting to know that one of the youngest multimillionaires in the country is going to be our client."


    He handed Darren a business card.


    "Here''s our card, Mr. Steele. Do call us or visit our head office when you have the time."


    Darren accepted it, glanced at it briefly, then slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks. I''ll make sure to call."


    With a friendly nod, they parted ways ¡ª Darren and Rachel heading up the short stairs to the elevators, while Andy turned left into an exclusive meeting room.


    The room had two sculpted wooden doors below the left stairs.


    It seemed like a place where a room shouldn''t even be, but that''s what made it appear exclusive.


    Men in custom-tailored suits sat around a gleaming oak table, swirling expensive whiskey in crystal glasses. They were engulfed in separate high-stake discussions.


    Except the man at the center. The young, Grant Hayes.


    Even though he was technically their boss, it seemed they were all swallowing him at that moment. He looked fairly out of place.


    He was staring right at Andy Nashville who was approaching, but his gaze shifted to the man that was heading for the stairs. The man Nashville just finished talking to.


    Grant''s eyes widened.


    Even in a simple coat and suit, the man again! He carried himself like a force of nature, a presence demanding attention without a word.


    Grant''s heartbeat quickened. It''s him. I''m very sure this time.


    He got up from the couch, his instincts screaming at him to act before the man disappeared again.


    But before he could reach the door, the man entered the elevator with the woman he was with, and the doors slid shut.


    Grant clenched his jaw. Damn. Missed him again.


    Andy, oblivious to Grant''s frustration, stopped in front of him. "Is there a problem, sir?"


    Grant exhaled sharply, his gaze still fixed on where the man had stood.


    "You were talking to that man just now," he asked. "Do you know him?"


    Andy blinked. "No, sir. We just met."


    "Oh. Did you get his name?"


    "Ah, yes. He said his name is Darren Steele. We talked about possibly signing him under us. He views our company as..."


    But Grant wasn''t listening anymore.


    ''Darren Steele.'' His eyes narrowed in thought. ''I really need to talk to that guy.''

 Chapter 81 81: On Second Thought

    The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the lavishly decorated hallway of Rachel''s hotel floor.


    Plush crimson carpets muffled their footsteps, and the warm glow of chandelier lights poured a hue of golden hue on the intricate wallpapers.


    Darren followed Rachel, hands in his pockets, his gaze idly scanning the ornate patterns along the walls.


    Two women walked past them, eyeing Darren as they did. Rachel noticed this and intensified the gaze of her powerful visible eye.


    The girls got the memo and only chuckled as they walked past.


    "You better hold him tight."


    "If you don''t want him, I''ll have him."


    The secretary turned red, but tried to keep her reservedness, especially when Darren lowered his neck and shot her a teasing glance directly to her face.


    Still holding the keycard in her manicured fingers, she glanced over her shoulder at him some moments after. "You really considering Sagomoto?" she asked casually.


    Darren gave a small shrug. "Maybe."


    She hummed in thought as they reached her door.


    The subtle scent of her perfume ¡ª something floral with a hint of spice ¡ª lingered as she swiped the keycard and pushed the door open.


    It seemed room service had prepared her room even more.


    The king-sized bed was now covered with newer pristine white sheets, her desk was cleaned and polished, and the lounge chair positioned invitingly beside a coffee table now had a complimentary fruit basket and some snacks.


    She didn''t need to be told that Darren had asked for this.


    "Why did you ask?" Darren said. "About Sagomoto Offices?"


    Rachel set her handbag down on the desk before turning back to him. "Well, I think it''s a good move. They''re expanding, and unlike MWMO, they actually seem to value loyalty. They do have some heavy hitters whose wealth they manage. The Zurich Family and the Nelsons for example."


    Darren leaned against the doorframe. "I''m surprised you''re not pushing for Moon Wealth. Or even PenWealth."


    Rachel scoffed lightly, crossing her arms. "PenWealth? What an awful choice that would be. They''re stretched so thin they don''t even have a solid leadership structure. Their CEO position is a revolving door, and every new executive lasts about as long as a fruit fly. It''s chaos. For a new company like yours, chaos is not what you need, sir."


    "That makes sense," Darren concurred. "What of Moon Wealth?"


    Her expression darkened slightly. "Well... I wouldn''t say they''re terrible at what they do. They are really good. They''re the top for a reason. But from an ethical standpoint, I wouldn''t advise it."


    Her gaze lowered. "Besides, they also manage Gareth''s company. I''ve been to some meetings. I''ve seen what they do. They''re also very selective. They only deal with the top dogs, and when those top dogs get into trouble? They cut them loose in a heartbeat. No loyalty, just numbers."


    Darren exhaled, nodding. "Whatever would I do without you, Rachel. You really are well-informed in things like this." He got closer. "How do you store all that in that beautiful brain of yours?"


    A hint of pink dusted her cheeks as she glanced away, clearly flustered. "I have a feeling you''re complimenting me because you''re about to ask me for something."


    Darren chuckled. "Maybe." He turned around. "And though this isn''t a very difficult thing, for you, I don''t know." He looks at her. "I need you to stay put until I get back."


    Rachel frowned. "Why do I suddenly feel like a child?"


    He raised a hand before she could argue. "For today. At least, just today, I need you not to worry about me. Don''t worry about the company. Everything''s fine. The only thing that would please me right now is knowing you''re safe."


    His voice softened. "So, stay here. Everything you need is here for you. I need to do a few things to make sure you''re protected from Gareth, okay?"


    Rachel held his gaze for a long moment before finally sighing. "Okay."


    Darren reached out, gently moving the stray strand of hair that covered her other eye. After getting a good look of her full beautiful face, he let the hair fall back into place.


    "I''ll be back."


    And with that, he turned and walked out the door.


    Once he got outside, he got in his Aston Martin, and pulled his phone, searching through his contacts.


    Once he found the name he was looking for, he called it immediately.


    The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered, smooth and teasing.


    "Well, well, well," Sophie McClain spoke. "Now this is unexpected. Darren Steele, actually calling me? What''s the occasion?"


    Darren exhaled, adjusting himself in his car. "I''ve got someone for you. A popular journalist that wants to upload a major story in your magazine. A major major story. One that will certainly give you the eyes you''re looking for and take your company to state media level."


    Sophie chuckled. "You sound so much like the Darren I knew from high school now. Always following Alison around and making promises such as these. You do make promises a lot, don''t you, Darren?"


    Darren''s jaw tensed slightly. "I''m serious, Sophie."


    She clicked her tongue. "Maybe. But it wasn''t a reporter you promised me, was it? You told me you''ll get Ava Monroe to sign for us. She hasn''t."


    Darren rubbed his temple. "That''s a separate deal. I will get her to sign for you, but that''s not what I''m talking about now. I just need this to happen. And like you said, you also need a big push. With this story, this reporter, you''ll get it."


    Darren''s plan was as desperate but still as ruthless as it could get


    To protect Rachel from Gareth''s wrath, he was going to threaten a press release. Naturally, Gareth would think he was bluffing at first, but once Brooklyn drops the first batch of her report through Sophie''s magazine, he''ll realize Darren was serious.


    If he still refused to back off, Darren would threaten to release more. And more. Until every bit of evidence he had on his plagiarism and all his conduct would be out there for the world to see.


    Silence stretched between them for a moment before Sophie finally spoke. "A popular reporter? A big story? Hmm. Alright, I''ll bite. Who''s this mystery reporter then, and how do I meet them?"


    "I''ll forward you her number now." That said, he ended the call.


    In Sophie''s office, where walls were filled with framed magazine covers, shelves stacked with journalism awards and media accolades, she stared at her phone. "This guy."


    The woman behind her who was dressing Sophie''s hair leaned in. "Who was that?"


    Sophie exhaled, tossing her phone onto her desk. "Just an acquaintance. Sometimes, I don''t even know if he''s worth the trouble."


    A notification bell interrupted her thoughts. She glanced at her phone and saw the message notification. Opening it, she found the forwarded contact.


    And the name ID. It read: Brooklyn Baker.


    Sophie''s lips parted slightly in surprise. Her eyes narrowed.


    "Although now, on second thought... maybe I was wrong."

 Chapter 82 82: Compartment

    Darren''s car rolled down the quiet, humble streets of Malegreen.


    It felt like he hadn''t been here in an eternity even though it had just been a week. The neighborhood hadn''t changed much; modest single-story homes lined the cracked sidewalks, their fences a mix of fresh paint and rusted metal.


    A few children played on the pavement, kicking a half-deflated soccer ball back and forth.


    When he drove past with his sleek, polished Aston, their heads turned in unison, small faces lighting up with curiosity. One boy pointed, nudging his friend.


    "Woah, look at that car!"


    "That''s not from around here..."


    Darren allowed himself a smile. He''d projected himself in that child for a moment, remembering how it felt to see fast cars when he was that age.


    He pulled into the driveway of his old house.


    The sight of it, the familiarity and yet the distance, it brought a strange feeling to his chest.


    Nostalgia? Maybe. Regret? He wasn''t sure.


    He had scarcely set foot in this house since moving into the mansion, and only came when he needed to do something important. It kind of felt like he was abandoning his former simpler life.


    But life was about change, was it not?


    He got out of his car. He took out a bunch of keys from his cost and unlocked the house.


    Ever since the break in, Darren had increased the security of the home. He''d also set some cameras inside.


    Once the door opened, he stepped inside.


    Ah, that scent.


    Unlike the air freshened, air conditioned and perfumed scent of his mansion, the Malegreen house carried the scent of old wood and faint detergent, a smell that had been part of his childhood.


    Yes, it was definitely nostalgia hitting him. .


    Darren walked toward the kitchen and swung open the fridge. His eyes scanned the near-empty shelves until he spotted a familiar sight ¡ª an orange juice bottle.


    A relieved sigh left his lips. Thank God. He unscrewed the cap and gulped it down, the cold citrus stinging his throat.


    When the last drop was gone, he exhaled sharply. Then, suddenly, a memory surfaced.


    The sharp and reprimanding voice of his mother.


    "Darren! Stop finishing all the orange juice in one go! Other people live here, you know!"


    He had laughed back then, brushing it off with a lazy grin.


    Now, standing here alone, he let out a small chuckle before sighing. Doctor Holloway said she''ll be home soon. That was good news. He had made sure of that.


    Last time he visited, he had also sold the man two more future cures. That reminded him...


    "System."


    The purple screen flashed before him, its mechanical text filling his vision.


    ©³Dr. Leonard Holloway {Ally} ¡ª You have a present profit of $22,600,000 after selling four medicinal cures from the future to him.©¿


    Darren hummed in approval. ''Good. Some of that can go toward Kara''s budget for the company''s digital growth.''


    Then he thought of something else.


    ''Leonard hasn''t announced any of the cures yet.'' Darren sighed and smiled. ''I made a good call with that man. It''s nice to know that he''s taking his time testing it over and over to be sure that the cures are safe before putting it out there.''


    He exhaled again, shaking his head. ''He must also be getting more and more curious about me. Poor guy.''


    But enough of that. Back to why he was here.


    He walked into his old bedroom and crouched near the bed, stretching his hand underneath. His fingers found the hidden compartment built into the bedframe.


    Darren felt relieved. He hadn''t messed up the timeline. It was around this time he''d built that compartment.


    Thank God. Again.


    He pulled the compartment open and took out ''his collection.''


    Sheets of paper, old notebooks, scribbled napkins ¡ª ideas upon ideas, years of calculations and strategies.


    It wasn''t like nonsensical stash. This was where he had written down every business concept, every investment plan that had ever crossed his mind.


    Gareth Smithers had always requested both the rough drafts and the final layouts when taking ideas from his employees.


    But Darren worked differently.


    He had drafts of drafts. Papers where he scribbled the thoughts and ideas, then the paper where he scribbled the plan and the ideas and then the paper where he finalized and laid it out.


    The last two papers was what he would submit to Gareth, but the first always stayed with him, locked in his compartment of business ideas


    He didn''t exactly do it out of foresight, not because he expected this day would come.


    No, it was just habit. Like an artist keeping their original sketches. He had always found something special in those rough pages.


    Flipping through them, memories resurfaced.


    One in particular stood out. A simple investment strategy he had created a few months ago.


    He had mapped out a market trend, predicting a sharp rise in demand for a certain raw material due to upcoming government regulations.


    The graphs he presented had shown a clear path: invest early before the price surge, then sell at the peak. Smithers had taken the plan, executed it with brutal precision, and walked away with a $70 million profit from a single move.


    This was worth a heavy sue.


    Darren clenched his jaw.


    With these documents, he had undeniable proof ¡ª proof that Smithers had been feeding off his work, presenting them as his own.


    He packed the papers neatly into a waterproof file.


    As he turned to leave, his eyes flicked to the mirror table. A small, familiar object sat there.


    A pack of cigarettes.


    Darren''s gaze lingered.


    The system had been warning him about his smoking habit. Sometimes using quotes!


    ©³Better to spend money on other things than issues that could have been avoided."©¿


    And... ©³You can''t spend money if you die young.©¿


    It even assigned him daily quests to quit.


    But, a single smoke wouldn''t kill him.


    Darren reached for the pack, but the system blared red in his vision.


    ©³DANGEROUS SUBSTANCE! AVOID!©¿


    Darren frowned. "Come on. A single smoke wouldn''t hurt."


    ©³DISCIPLINE IS THE KEY TO SUCCESS.©¿ ©³DANGEROUS SUBSTANCE. AVOID!©¿


    "Alright, alright, jeez." He let go of the pack, shaking his head. "You''re like a nagging girlfriend."


    With the file in hand, he walked outside, not noticing a woman approaching some distance from his left.


    He locked the door and was about to leave the porch when her voice froze him mid-step.


    "Darren?"


    He stayed still for a moment, then turned.


    Sandy stood a few feet away, hands clutching the straps of her casual handbag, her expression a mix of shock and confusion.


    Her gaze darted between him and his car. "Is this... your car? Wha¡ª wh¡ª Where have you been?"


    ''Sandy?'' Darren thought. ''Sandy''s here?''


    He parted his lips to speak, not even sure what he was going to say, but then came a formal black vehicle that pulled up behind his.


    Darren''s brows furrowed.


    A woman stepped out. She was dark-haired, dressed in professional attire, confident and poised. She strode toward him with purpose.


    "Good day, Mr. Darren Steele."


    Darren narrowed his eyes.


    "My name is Amelia Forrest. I''m a representative of Moon Wealth Management Offices. I was hoping I could have a moment of your time."


    What? Moon Wealth?


    Before he could process that, another voice called out.


    "Darren?"


    He lifted his head up, this time to see Lily Smithers.


    She was dressed in casual pink clothes, hands stuffed into her hoodie pockets, her blonde hair arranged in a ponytail. Her eyes pleading and desperate.


    "Darren, please," she said softly. "Can we talk?"


    Darren was out of words at this point. His gaze darted between the three women.


    ''What the fuck is happening?''

 Chapter 83 83: Triple Threat

    Darren stood rooted to the porch, his mind desperately trying to process what the hell was happening.


    Three women. Three different faces. Three entirely different problems.


    All at the same time?


    God of coincidence and fate? Why punish me like this?


    Sandy had her hands on her hips like a teacher catching a student red-handed, except her face held more emotion than what was normal between teachers and students.


    She seemed genuinely hurt.


    Amelia, poised and cold like some sort of assassin, stood by the car and waited. Her expression was gentle, her face was constantly studying him.


    Clearly she thought more than she spoke.


    And then there was Lily, dressed down in a hoodie and sneakers with her favorite color of pink, staring at him with quiet desperation.


    No matter how despondent she looked, and how much those pretty eyes of hers begged, Darren couldn''t bring himself to care.


    In fact, it even made his stomach twist because he already knew what she wanted to talk about.


    Her father.


    Yeah, no. That was off the table.


    He cleared his throat. "Okay. One at a time."


    Sandy scoffed painfully, still in disbelief. "You say that like we scheduled appointments with you, Darren. What is happening here? This woman... why does she seem familiar?"


    She was referring to Amelia.


    "I can arrange an appointment if that would make it easier," Amelia said smoothly, her eyes never leaving him. "You can visit Moon Wealth Management Offices at your convenience, Mr. Steele. Though, I suspect you already know why we''re interested in speaking with you."


    His brow furrowed slightly. The way she said that¡ª "suspect" ¡ªsent alarm bells ringing in his head. Did they know?


    If it was Rico that had told them, then it should be only based on speculation. They had no real proof that he was FuglyDuckling.


    But wasn''t it best to make sure of it now?


    He saw Lily take a step forward, her hands buried deep in her hoodie pockets. "Darren, please. Just five minutes. That''s all I ask."


    His jaw clenched. He didn''t find the prospect of speaking with Lily interesting in any way.


    He was going to take her father down whether she liked it or not. That was not a conversation he wanted to have, not now, not ever.


    But what was more important? Healing his relationship with Sandy? Or finding out what MWMO knows with Amelia?


    The pressure was suffocating.


    Darren exhaled sharply. "Listen, I would love ¡ª love ¡ª to handle all three of you right now." He saw Sandy raise a skeptical brow, and Lily''s eyes narrowed. Amelia had a blush of surprise on her cheeks.


    "That came out wrong. I meant ¡ª I''d love to ¡ª ugh, never mind."


    No one was buying it.


    He needed an exit strategy. Fast.


    "I, uh... I just remembered something incredibly important!" He snapped his fingers like a man who had just solved a puzzle. "A meeting. A crucial one. Very urgent. Can''t miss it."


    Sandy frowned, disappointment in her voice. "A meeting? Darren? It''s already evening."


    Amelia tilted her head, unreadable. "With whom?"


    Darren''s eyes darted around as his brain flailed for an answer. "Uh... the President."


    There was a beat of silence.


    "The President of what?"


    Lily sighed. "Darren, please."


    "No time!" He clapped his hands together. "So sorry, ladies, but this is my cue to leave."


    And before any of them could protest, he whirled around, yanked open his car door, and dove inside like he was escaping a hostage situation.


    He slammed the door shut and locked it, throwing one last look at the trio through the windshield.


    They were staring.


    Sandy''s gaze was a painting of shock and heartbreak. Amelia just raised a perfectly shaped brow, the amusement flickering in her eyes making it clear that she knew he was running away. And Lily, she just looked hurt.


    Darren exhaled. That was not his problem.


    He hit the gas.


    As the car pulled away, he let out a long breath, gripping the wheel. "Jesus Christ."


    He was not built for that level of social confrontation. A room of men, he could handle, but not three women.


    ''Hold on. That came out wrong.'' He facepalmed. ''Gosh. What is wrong with me today?''


    --


    Once he got to a fair distance, Darren began to find his way to Greenbaby. But as he drove, his thoughts kept drifting to Sandy.


    He swallowed.


    He''d been a real ass to her, hadn''t he?


    His fingers tapped the steering wheel. A memory slowly resurfaced in his mind.


    Darren remembered back when he was an intern at Smithers Group. Back then, the office coffee tasted like hope and the future. When he was filled with ambition, and the only thing he suffered was the ridicule of people who believed him to be too young for the position he claimed.


    Sandy was the Secretary of Finance. Smart, kind-hearted, but terrifyingly efficient.


    Even when everyone had been particularly unkind to him, she''d been good to him.


    Darren remembered one particular evening, back when he had been drowning under a mountain of paperwork, scrambling to finish a report that Smithers had dumped on him last minute. He had been exhausted, running purely on caffeine and the fear of losing his internship.


    Then, Sandy had walked by. She had paused, looking over his shoulder, and instead of barking at him like others did, she had actually gone to the office kitchen and made him a warm meal.


    A beef sandwich and milk.


    "Eat," she had said flatly.


    Darren had blinked up at her. "I¡ª"


    "No arguments." Her eyes softened. "You look like you''re about to collapse."


    Darren had stared at the sandwich. Then he had looked up at her again.


    And he had ate.


    That moment had stuck with him.


    And now, here he was. Running from her like a coward.


    Darren exhaled. "What am I even doing," he muttered, pulling out his phone. He dialed her number, his foot easing off the gas as the line rang.


    After a few rings, she picked up.


    "Darren," she spoke gently.


    He winced, feeling ashamed of himself. "Can we never talk about that? I just had to get out of there."


    She didn''t say anything.


    "Sandy?" he called.


    "Okay," she replied.


    He let out a sigh of relief. "Can we meet? At our usual place?"


    There was a pause.


    Then, with a softer voice, she said, "Okay."


    The call ended.


    Darren took a deep breath and switched lanes, heading to Castle Cottage.


    Minutes later, he finally pulled up in the outdoor restaurant, the familiar glow of lanterns and fairy lights beautified the place in its golden warmth.


    Darren stepped out of his car, glancing around.


    It didn''t take long to find her.


    Sandy stood near one of the tables, arms crossed, watching him with a mix of hesitation and exasperation.


    The fairy lights above glowed on her face, highlighting the features of his only true friend from the Smithers Group.


    Darren sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked towards her.


    "Well," she said, tightening her lips. "Here I am."

 Chapter 84 84: Only Friend

    Ding!


    ©³This person is saddened by you©¿


    That wasn''t surprising.


    Darren didn''t know if it was the cold air or the weight of unspoken words that made him tense, but as he and Sandy took their seats at Castle Cottage, the awkwardness between them settled like a mist.


    It had only been their initial greeting that had been spoken so far.


    That was it. That was their grand reunion after weeks of silence.


    Darren exhaled through his nose and rubbed his hands together, trying to ground himself. It had been so long since they''d sat here together, and now that they were, he had no idea what to say.


    He glanced at Sandy, only to find himself staring longer than he intended.


    She had always been beautiful.


    Not in the flashy, attention-grabbing way of models or actresses, but in a softer, more grounded way ¡ª like someone you''d want to come home to after a long day.


    Her features carried a timeless elegance, warm brown eyes framed by long lashes, and lips that always looked like they had just finished forming a quiet smile.


    She had a beautiful female mane that was so curly, they looked like waves of a chocolate ocean. They always fell in cascades down her back, a cape for the astonishing curvy body she possessed.


    Especially now, in casual clothes ¡ª fitted jeans and a loose cardigan over a simple top ¡ª there was something different about her.


    She looked... lighter. More at ease than she ever had in that soul-draining corporate office. And even though she appeared a bit disheartened because of how he''d been to her, she was still so...


    Damn. In the end, Darren was only a man.


    "Why are you looking at me like that?" Sandy asked suddenly, hiding her nervousness.


    Darren slightly jolted upright. "No, no, I wasn''t looking¡ª"


    She gave him a knowing stare.


    "Okay, I was looking, but not in that manner," he defended quickly. He grabbed the menu in front of him and buried his face in it. "Uh¡ª place looks kinda empty today, doesn''t it?"


    ©³System has discerned a spike in host''s emotional state©¿


    ©³Reason for spike: Nervous reaction to being confronted for host''s feelings©¿


    ''Oh, shut up.''


    Sandy let the moment slide, sighing as she glanced around. "Yeah, I noticed that too. It''s usually livelier."


    The restaurant was indeed quieter than usual.


    The wooden tables, normally filled with murmuring conversations and the occasional laugh, sat mostly empty under the golden fairy lights.


    The scent of warm bread and roasted meat still hung in the air, but the absence of a bustling crowd made it feel... almost too peaceful.


    Just then, a young gorgeous waitress ¡ª no older than nineteen ¡ª approached their table. Her blonde hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and her apron was embroidered with the name Penelope Castle.


    "Welcome to Castle Cottage! Can I get you anything to drink?"


    Darren set his menu down. "Actually, quick question, if you don''t mind. Why is it so quiet today? Is something going on?"


    Penelope hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It''s... business stuff." She forced a smile. "We''re struggling a bit. People are choosing the new franchise places over us. You know, the big brands that offer cheap combo deals. Even regulars are going there now."


    Darren frowned. He had noticed a few of those big chains popping up around the city ¡ª soulless places with frozen food and conveyor belt service.


    "That''s awful," Sandy said, her brows furrowing.


    Penelope shrugged. "It is what it is. We try our best, but it''s hard keeping up when everyone''s after convenience." She straightened, forcing another smile. "But enough about that! What can I get you both?"


    They placed their orders, and as she walked away, Darren leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning.


    Would this be a good investment?


    The system did give him a monthly quest to make three solid investments.


    Darren demanded an Insight Protocol and the system obliged.


    Ding!


    ---------------------


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Castle Cottage is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Net Worth: $145,000©¿


    ©³Primary Income: Family-owned restaurant, specializing in authentic homemade meals©¿


    ©³Owner: Arnold Castle©¿


    ©³Known for: Cozy atmosphere, excellent homemade dishes, strong community ties©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Tactics: Prioritizes quality over mass production, lacks aggressive marketing, struggles against corporate chains©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: High potential for revitalization. Strategic investment could turn this into a thriving boutique restaurant. Consider support.©¿


    -------------------------


    Darren exhaled, tapping his fingers against the table. "Well the system advises me to go for it. Maybe this could be my first solid investment."


    He could do a good thing for the Castle family and also start completing the ''Seeing is Believing'' Quest the system gave him.


    Darren had almost forgotten why he came here, but Sandy''s voice pulled him back.


    "You called me here, but you seem more interested in looking anywhere that''s not my face."


    Darren frowned. "That''s not¡ª" He stopped. She had just called him out for looking at her face earlier. There was no winning with her.


    He understood it though. Women were like this when they were hurt.


    Sandy leaned forward, her tone softer now. "You know, Darren... we were supposed to be in this together. We both escaped Gareth''s hellhole of a company. We''d come here and talk about how they''re doing in their separate dreams. Support each other. But you just stopped. You disappeared."


    Darren clenched his jaw. "Sandy, I¡ª"


    "What was so important that you couldn''t even text me?"


    His throat went dry. He couldn''t exactly tell her that he''d turned into a millionaire over a month from Bitcoin.


    Could he? How would he even explain it?


    "I was busy," he said lamely.


    She scoffed. "Busy? Too busy to answer a single message? Too busy to let me know anything that was going on in your life?"


    Darren''s head fell.


    Silence hung between them. Then, her eyes narrowed.


    "Is it true?"


    He narrowed his brows. "Is what true?"


    "That you bought a mansion. That the car outside is actually yours. That you live on an expensive street now."


    Darren froze.


    He wanted to ask who told you that? But it didn''t matter. It wasn''t worth it.


    He looked down, hands tightening into fists before relaxing. "Yes," he admitted. "It''s true."


    Sandy inhaled sharply, staring at him.


    "It''s not that way, Sandy. I''ve just been overwhelmed by the change and I''m trying to figure things out."


    "And you couldn''t call? When I did you never got back to me. Even the friend request you never actually sent it did you? I waited. I waited for it. I know this is weird because I''m older than you, but you were the only real friend I had. The only one who knew what I went through. And you just..." She looked away. "It felt like you were moving on. Leaving me behind."


    "If you don''t want to hang around with me because I''m older. Maybe I''m not as beautiful as the younger women you have now, then that''s okay. Is that the reason why you''ve been avoiding me?"


    Darren felt like the world had just punched him in the chest. "No. No. It''s nothing like that?"


    But apart from that, she was right. She was so right.


    He had been selfish. He had been drowning in his new life, and he had forgotten about her.


    But was it wise to bring her back into his world? Could he?


    He looked up, a sudden idea sparking in his mind.


    "Sandy?"


    She wiped at the corner of her eye before looking at him.


    He asked her a question:


    "How would you like a job?"

 Chapter 85 85: Minor Rise

    Sandy''s jaw clenched. She sat stiffly in her chair, her fingers pressed into fists as her head lowered in disappointment and heartbroken answer.


    "A job?" she whispered. "A job?"


    He had just asked her if she wanted a job.


    Was that what he thought of her? That she was wasting his time? That she should just go find something to do instead of bothering him?


    Her throat tightened. Unbelievable.


    "You know what?" she said, voice flat but laced with irritation. "Forget I even came here."


    Darren blinked, confused. "Wait, what?"


    Sandy shook her head, letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "I came here to talk to you ¡ª to actually talk ¡ª and you''re just... what? Asking me to get a job? Are you serious? So I''m a joke to you?"


    Darren straightened in his seat, hands coming up slightly as if trying to pacify her. "Okay, hold on. That''s not what I meant at all."


    "Really? Because that''s exactly what it sounded like."


    Her eyes burned as she looked away, staring at the cafe?''s cobblestone pavement as if it held all the answers.


    Darren exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Mrs Meyers, come on..."


    "Call me Sandy!" she cut him off. "You''ve been calling me Sandy. Why are you calling me Miss Meyers now?"


    Darren frowned, utterly confused.


    "Ugh!" Sandy squeezed her face with one hand, looking even more frustrated. "Forget it," she muttered. She pushed back her chair, standing abruptly. "I think coming here was a mistake."


    Darren reached out instinctively. "Sandy¡ª"


    But she was already turning away, leaving before he could even finish the sentence.


    He stood and watched her disappear behind the walls, not certain if going after her was the best of ideas.


    Darren sighed, falling back in his chair.


    I don''t get it.


    Was it just her? Or were all women like this when they got mad?


    To be fair, Darren had only ever had real experience with one woman before; Lily. And she was direct when she was pissed. If she was angry, she''d just tell him outright.


    She would yell, throw things, ignore him or stay away for a very long time.


    But Sandy? It was like she was confused and was trying not to get mad at him even though she already was. And that ended up making her even angrier.


    ''She got even angrier because I offered her a damn job.''


    Darren rubbed his fingers on his temple, shaking his head.


    Today was supposed to be a serious day. Instead, he had spent most of it navigating the complexities of the feminine gender.


    His buzzing phone interrupted his thoughts.


    Darren pulled out the phone from his pockets and stared at it.


    A flood of notifications filled his screen. CryptoTracker was buzzing like a damn beehive.


    His brows furrowed.


    There had been a minor rise in Bitcoin. It was a very minor one, so the system didn''t really account for it. But as always, the CryptoTracker community had a talent for blowing things out of proportion.


    Darren scrolled through the madness.


    ¡ª"Bitcoin is the most unpredictable shit on earth, I swear to God."


    ¡ª"Made a good buck this time! Who else held strong?!"


    ¡ª"Hey! I''m selling. Who wants to buy! Send a text!"


    ¡ª"Everyone''s selling?! Who the hell is buying?!"


    ¡ª"I''m just here to watch the circus unfold."


    Darren let out an uninterested sigh. ''This mad house always has people yapping and talking about the slightest change in Bitcoin Prices.''


    ''They have no idea what is coming in the future.''


    Another notification came in, and it was the announcement of the Investor of the Week, won by ScottishPanda ¨C Adam Scotland, with the previous title holder being TammyStone ¨C Tamara Johnstone.


    Under that announcement, there were also a lot of comments.


    ¡ª"SCOTTISHPANDA IS A LEGEND!"


    ¡ª"Tamara had a good run, but Adam is great at this stuff."


    ¡ªHey, what about Duckling?


    ¡ª"FuglyDuckling, why haven''t you sold your portfolio yet?!"


    ¡ª"Dumbass is just sitting on gold and not cashing in."


    ¡ª"Trust the genius, he knows what he''s doing."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed slightly at that last one. Ah, some people at least acknowledge my mastermind.


    He could have sold. He could have made an easy withdrawal and taken a solid profit. But that wasn''t how this worked.


    Timing was everything.


    Bitcoin was an unpredictable beast, but patterns existed, one just had to be smart enough to recognize them.


    Selling at the first sign of a rise? Amateur move. That''s what most people did, and that''s why they always ended up regretting it.


    Darren held on because he understood something that most people didn''t:


    Liquidity was king.


    When Bitcoin plummeted hard last month and then skyrocketed moments later, it had been the perfect time to invest. In theory.


    But here was the problem though; Who was selling at that exact moment?


    Who says he would have had enough time to find enough buyers to buy as much as needed so he could make as much gain as he did?


    Usually, the system speedran sellers to purchase Bitcoin, but even then, it would always tell him to wait while processing.


    By the time his buy orders would have gone through? The price had already surged.


    Too risky. Too unpredictable.


    That''s why he played the game differently. Precise. Calculated. Cautious.


    If he was going to sell, it would be when the market was primed for it. Not just because a few loudmouths in the comment section were impatient.


    Darren''s eyes moved to the account profile under the page.


    It was the FuglyDuckling profile.


    His eyes darkened with thought.


    Should he just accept it?


    Verify the account? Link it to his email and finally step into the light?


    The system did tell him that it was time to come out of the shadows.


    And keeping secrets like this was already hurting his relationship with Sandy. He hadn''t even told Rachel either.


    His thumb hovered over the "Verify Account" button.


    Then he pulled back. Not yet.


    Instead, he sunk the phone in his pocket, and took out some cash, leaving a tip on the app for the waiter at Castle Cottage.


    As he left, the young waitress, Penelope Castle, watched him with intrigue.


    Darren stepped out of the gate, and moved towards his car. But before he could step into the street, the same formal black car rolled up to the curb in front of him.


    Darren''s eyes narrowed.


    The tinted window lowered, and stepping out with pristine poise was none other than Amelia Forrest.


    Darren exhaled, shaking his head. "How did you find me?"


    Amelia held her hands together in front. "You have a very outstanding car, Mr. Steele," she said plainly. "In the sense that it stands out."


    Darren glanced back at his car and grunted.


    "Please," Amelia continued, stepping aside. "My boss would only like a moment of your time. If you''d simply follow me."


    Darren glanced at the large Toyota and then at her. "Is he in the car?" he asked.


    "No." She smoothed down her jacket. "He''s waiting for you in The Pendulum."


    Darren raised a brow. "The Pendulum? Fancy place." He rolled his shoulders back, considering. "Alright then. I''ll meet your boss."


    Amelia''s posture eased slightly. She hadn''t been sure he would agree.


    "But," he added, tilting his head, "I''m not getting in that car."


    A flicker of confusion crossed her face. "Excuse me?"


    "I''ll meet your boss on one condition. You ride with me to the location."


    That got a reaction. Her cheeks flushed, just slightly, and for the first time, she hesitated. "Mr. Steele, I don''t think that''s necessary."


    Darren simply stared, a blank expression on his face. "That''s my final offer."


    Amelia shifted her weight, glancing briefly at the car behind her before finally exhaling. "Fine."


    Darren gave a single nod. "Good." He stepped past her and opened the passenger door to his Aston Martin. He motioned toward the seat. "Get in."


    Amelia hesitated for just a second before sliding in, her movements stiff and controlled. Apart from her boss, she''d never been exactly bossed around by another man.


    Darren shut the door behind her and walked around to the driver''s side, taking his time.


    He glanced at the dark front window of the large Toyota and winked at the driver he couldn''t see.


    Then, he opened the car and slipped into his seat.


    Amelia cleared her throat, either out of nervousness or because of the strong scent of his cologne.


    Darren said nothing. He started the engine, and the air conditioner attempted to cool down the air that had turned thick with silence.


    He gave her a side glance.


    She was nervous. He could see it in the way she sat, back straight, hands folded neatly in her lap. Trying to look composed, but her fingers were just a little too still.


    Darren didn''t say a word. He let the silence stretch, let it settle.


    Then he shifted into gear and pulled onto the road, smoothly guiding the Aston Martin toward one of the top five most expensive restaurants in the city.

 Chapter 86: Drive Discussion

    Driving in the night lights of the city, inside an Aston Martin with another person ¡ª one could so easily fall in love.


    The light from the skyscrapers, the boutiques, the headlights of other cars. It just made everything so calm and beautiful. Then, the purr of the engine that filled the otherwise quiet space.


    Symphony.


    Darren drove expertly, Amelia beside him, keeping her expression as composed as she could. Her thighs were so close together that the skin began to compress, and her legs were crossed, as she watched the city shift past.


    Darren shot her a side glance. She could tell he was looking at her, and it almost broke her composed expression.


    ''System,'' Darren called in his mind. ''Personal Insight Protocol. Run on Amelia."


    A brief pause. Then, the system responded.


    ©³Amelia Forrest©¿


    ©³...©¿


    After a moment, the results came.


    ©³Personal Insight Protocol is complete©¿


    ©³Information on subject is as follows©¿


    ©³Full Name: Amelia Rose Forrest


    Age: 27


    Occupation: Wealth Management Advisor, Senior Analyst at Moon Wealth Management Offices, Secretary of the CEO


    Education: Columbus University, Finance & Business Economics


    Awards: Young Financial Leader Award (2007), Wall Street Excellence Recognition (2008), Fortune 40 Under 40 (2010)


    Address: 42 Redvalley Lane, Off-Greenbaby, Los Alverez, CA 80730


    Phone Number: (303) 555-07787©¿


    Darren''s eyes flickered over the details, committing them to memory. ''Off-Greenbaby? She lives on that street next to mine? The coincidences never stopped.''


    ''Look at her pedigree as well. She''s almost as brilliant as Rachel. I understand that to be hired under these powerful billionaires, one has to be very impressive and educated but... they sure pluck the best out of the bunch.''


    He leaned back slightly, letting the silence stretch before speaking.


    "Let me guess," he pretended to muse. "You schooled at Columbus University."


    Amelia shot him a surprise glance but turned her face immediately. "That was a fast guess," she said flaccidly. "How did you know?"


    "I had a bunch," Darren replied. "It''s a prestigious name too. Must''ve been a grind getting through."


    She didn''t seem fazed by the remark. "It was. But if you want to make it in my industry, you can''t afford to be anything less than excellent."


    "Your industry? You mean wealth management operations? Or just Moon Wealth Management Offices?" Darren half-teased. "Now that you''re there, what''s it like?"


    Even though his tone was casual, he measured every word. Darren was here to gauge the company before meeting Ryan Anders, and Amelia was his best source of insight.


    Asking her to ride with him might have been a move to establish dominance and avoid acquiescence, but it was also a chance to get as much information so he could know what he was getting into.


    Amelia folded her arms, considering whether to answer. She did in the end.


    "Like any other job, it''s demanding. Competitive. Ruthless, even. But that''s finance for you."


    "Ruthless?" Darren echoed, glancing at her.


    Amelia glanced at him, questioning why he highlighted that word. But she explained further. "It''s nothing controversial. If you''re not bringing in millions, you''re expendable. Simple as that."


    "Ah, so money is all your company values?" Darren said with a nod.


    Amelia''s eyes widened just as her face reddened. "No! No! That''s not what I''m saying at all! It''s only for employees, not our clients."


    "I see," Darren pursed his lips. "Since you''re an employee, why don''t you tell me about your boss? Ryan Anders? What kind of man is he?"


    There was a flicker of hesitation in her expression. Amelia tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Why do you ask?"


    Darren met her gaze, his own steady. "I like to be thorough. If I''m going to place my wealth ¡ª and the survival of my company ¡ª in the hands of a man like him, wouldn''t you agree I should know as much about him as possible?"


    Amelia let out a quiet breath, then narrowed her eyes. "So you admit that it''s you?"


    Darren''s expression darkened slightly. His gaze sharpened. ''This cold clever woman! She almost made me admit I''m FuglyDuckling!''


    "That what is me?"


    That was the best reply he could give her.


    She tested him with that question, and he tested her with his. Darren couldn''t afford to admit he was FuglyDuckling ¡ª not to her, not even to Anders.


    Not when he hadn''t told others who were more deserving to hear it first.


    So for now, ignorance was his shield.


    He narrowed his eyes at her, darkening his eyes. "I thought I was being invited because I''m starting a new company and your office is interested in managing my wealth. Is there another motive here?"


    Amelia studied him for a moment, face cold and calm. "If that is how you want to play it, Mr. Steele.''


    She shrugged. "Ryan is..." she suddenly stopped, choosing her words carefully. "Sharp. Charismatic. He''s a brilliant strategist. He doesn''t make mistakes, and he doesn''t tolerate failure. He knows how to play the game better than most."


    She paused again, her voice cracking slightly.


    "He''s a smart man."


    Darren took in her words, then asked, "And how is he toward you?"


    That caught her off guard. She turned to him fully, her brow furrowing. "Why would you ask me that? Why does it matter?"


    She had turned so defensive all of a sudden, Darren noticed it, but he kept his tone level when he responded. "Employee-employer relationships are important to me. Speaking from experience."


    Throughout the conversation, Darren had noticed the change of color in her eyes when she spoke about Ryan. It was like she knew deep down she detested him and lying drained all the life from her.


    But in the end, Amelia clenched her jaw and replied, "I''m fine."


    Darren didn''t press. Instead, he plainly made a suggestion. "You can come work for me."


    Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Didn''t you just say you were a startup? Why would I leave my company, where I get an outstanding salary, to join one that hasn''t even made a name for itself? Or..." she tilted her head, lips curving slightly, "are you wealthier than you''re letting on?"


    ''There she goes again. Very good at inciting and extracting information,'' Darren thought, smiling in his head. ''Like a blend of Rachel and Brooklyn.''


    He didn''t say anything to her response, but after listening to the night roads for a while, he spoke. "You should think about it. In the end, the choice is yours. My company is going to be the biggest in the country. You decide if you want to be part of it or not."


    Amelia studied him for a long moment, then said simply, "You seem confident."


    Darren scoffed. "Confidence is delusional hope. I''m simply certain."


    She continued to stare, as if trying to read him. Then, slowly, she turned around, her face falling and softening in thought.


    The rest of the drive passed in silence. Minutes later, they arrived.


    "We''re here," Darren said.


    He pulled up to the entrance of The Pendulum, a restaurant so exclusive it made even the wealthiest hesitate before stepping inside.

 Chapter 87: The Pendulum (1)

    "Dance with me in the ocean, let the waves sing a song of our pain..." ??


    "The water mirrors our emotion, oh I wish that it would rain..." ??


    The rich, honeyed voice of the singer wrapped around the room like velvet.


    She was standing at the podium at the end of the large room, bathed in the lights of the orange chandeliers. As she sang, she swayed gently, her silhouette poised and elegant.


    Her crimson lips barely moved when the lyrics left her mouth, but her eyes, deep pools of dark ink, glimmered with emotion.


    A subtle, absent stroke of her fingers against the microphone stand betrayed a quiet confidence. The guests at The Pendulum barely spoke, caught in the spell of her voice.


    Darren Steele, however, wasn''t one of them. His gaze swept over the room, observing, analyzing, thinking.


    The hall was one of opulent architecture. Tall marble columns with gold inlays had greeted them in the entrance, and the restaurant''s name was illuminated on the ceiling high above with golden and silver bulbs.


    The space was lavishly decorated with many crystal chandeliers. There were velvet booths lining the walls, and the main dining area was filled with elegantly set tables.


    As the song played behind Darren''s thoughts, a waiter approached him and bowed slightly. "This way, Mr. Steele."


    Darren glanced at Amelia beside him, then followed, moving past white-clothed tables where expensive wine swirled in crystal glasses, past conversations spoken in hushed, sophisticated tones, and momentarily blocking the view of some who just wanted to watch the woman sing.


    The scent of aged wood, truffle, and exquisite dishes of uncountable ethnicities hung in the air.


    All of it was fairly overwhelming. The Pendulum was basically the most posh place Darren had been to. Compared to the Golden Hay Casino, this was much more suffocating.


    Darren had to do his best to look like he belonged. He might not have known, but it was actually easier than he thought, given his appearance.


    Soon, they arrived. A table that was more exquisite than the others. And sitting on this table, was the CEO of Moon Wealth Management Offices, Ryan Anders.


    There was no problem in the world that could trouble this man from the way he sat. His composure was effortless, his shoulders were high and firm, his smile was proud and cunning, resting on a terrifyingly pretty face.


    A face way too pretty for a man.


    He had dark brown hair, slicked back with a precision that spoke of routine. Only a strand fell, right at the center of his brows, and the rest of it framed his sharp, symmetrical features.


    His brown eyes carried a quiet calculation, the kind that came from a man who rarely found himself surprised. If this were a fantasy world, with knights and kings, this man would be the quiet manipulator behind the throne, the man who pulled strings while wearing an unassuming smile.


    Darren didn''t know a lot about him, which worried him a fair bit.


    All he did know was from what Amelia had told him earlier and from the way MWMO functioned.


    But at least, Darren knew Ryan Anders was a very smart and capable man. Someone who knew how people behaved and manipulated their behavior to secure success for his company and the companies of those he managed.


    However, Darren was desperate for an edge. So, to get a better knowledge of this man, he asked the system for a Personal Insight Protocol.


    The system replied moments after and the purple interface appeared before him.


    ©³Personal Insight Protocol is complete©¿


    ©³Information on subject is as follows©¿


    ©³Full Name: Ryan Alexander Anders


    Age: 38


    Occupation: CEO, Moon Wealth Management Offices


    Education: Brookfield University of Business and Literature


    Achievements: Forbes Top 40 Under 40, Architect of Three Fortune 500 Mergers, Economic Strategist Award (2010)


    Net Worth: $2.7 Billion


    Personality: Charismatic, Calculative, Manipulative, Patient


    Motivation: Power Consolidation, Influence Expansion, Psychological Control


    Traits: Highly Persuasive, Emotionally Detached, Strategically Ruthless


    Address: 15 Sterling Heights, Los Alverez, CA 10007


    Phone Number: (212) 555-0198©¿


    ©³System Advice: Precaution is mandatory. Ryan Anders is a likely rival, but could be an ally in certain cases. However, avoid direct partnership, be careful with information shared.©¿


    Darren''s gaze flicked up at him, unaffected.


    He thought of the three techniques that Ryan Anders most likely lived his life and managed his business by.


    Power consolidation.


    Influence expansion.


    Psychological control.


    From what the system had given him, Ryan Anders was exactly what he expected.


    ''This time it also included Personality, Motivation, Traits and System Advice? Could it be because Ryan Anders is a more influential person? A rival?''


    "Good evening, Mr. Steele," Ryan greeted, his voice smooth and dreamy, like an AI narrator that helped people go to bed.


    "Mr. Anders," Darren replied firmly. "Good evening."


    Amelia walked past Darren and leaned in slightly, whispering something to Ryan before straightening.


    Darren glanced at her, then back at Ryan. "Your secretary stands while you sit? Is this going to be a short meeting?"


    Ryan''s lips twitched in amusement. "I didn''t intend it to be, and I had no idea Amelia had a problem with standing." He turned slightly. "Do you, Amelia?"


    The woman felt a hitch in her throat, cheeks reddening and her fingers curling against her palm before she quickly shook her head. "No, sir. I''m perfectly fine as I am."


    Ryan turned back to Darren, his smile never slipping. "You see? She doesn''t mind."


    Darren didn''t relent. "Still though. Don''t you think it would be better if she just sat down?"


    Ryan wanted to frown, but his smile remained intact, suppressing his frustration. ''Another feeble man who cares for the lesser creatures. Disappointing.''


    Then he said, "If that makes you more comfortable, then of course."


    He gestured for Amelia to take a seat at the table beside them. She obeyed, her cheeks subtly flushed, avoiding Darren''s gaze.


    Darren watched her for a moment before a voice pulled his attention back.


    A waiter poured wine into their glasses, and Ryan leaned back slightly, exhaling with content.


    "Beautiful place, isn''t it?" Ryan mused. "The Pendulum?"


    Darren inclined his head. "It is."


    "Do you know its history?"


    Darren''s brows raised.


    Ryan rested an elbow against the table, his fingers lightly tapping against his glass. "Back in World War II, there was an underground bunker just beneath this very building. It was an intelligence hub, where messages were decoded and¡ª"


    "¡ªwhere a pendulum clock was used to measure Morse code timings," Darren interrupted smoothly.


    Ryan''s tapping paused for the briefest second.


    Darren leaned back. "The original owner was part of that intelligence network. After the war, he kept the location and repurposed it into a private club before his grandson eventually turned it into The Pendulum we see today."


    Darren couldn''t let Ryan take control of the conversation by doing things like showboating knowledge.


    It was a tactic he was very versed on in business and deal making. So, he had quickly done an Insight Protocol for the restaurant, and gotten the information from its history.


    Ryan raised a brow, an excited and pleased look on his face.


    "Ah. So you do know about the history."


    Darren was indifferent. "I do. But even as fascinating as it is, I''m more interested in why the top wealth management company in the state has called for me. Can I know why that is?"


    Ryan''s eyes held his for a moment before he smiled.


    He picked up his wine glass, twirling the liquid lazily.


    "Yes, you can," he said. "But first, have a taste of the wine."


    He paused the glass on his lips and added,


    "It''s the Cha?teau Margaux, 2009."

 Chapter 88: The Pendulum (2)

    In honesty, Ryan Anders had never cared about Bitcoin.


    Not in the way tech evangelists spoke of it, with their half-mad sermons about decentralization and the downfall of fiat currency.


    Not in the way degenerate gamblers pumped their life savings into it, praying for a miracle.


    Not even in the way of common slight interest, maybe to even check it out, to decide for himself.


    All of it to him ¡ª Ryan Anders ¡ª wasn''t a revolution. It was a symptom.


    A symptom of desperation. Of fools believing they could outsmart the system rather than learn to control it.


    The creation of Bitcoin and the idea of cryptocurrency was simply drawn out of laziness. Those who involved themselves with it, were terrified of capital investments, investment in infrastructure, goods, physical commodities.


    "What even is it?" Ryan asked. "Just numbers on a screen. You can''t touch it, you can''t see it. Real wealth is something you can hold in your hand, like land or gold."


    "It''s a gamble, not an investment. Up one day, down the next. How can you build anything lasting on such shaky ground? Real investments are stable and provide consistent growth, like well-managed property"


    Here, he was highlighting the price swings and contrasting them with the perceived steadiness of physical assets.


    Darren intrinsically agreed that this criticism of Bitcoin was true, but he didn''t have to worry about that because the price swings were all laid before him like the answers to a deadly math quiz.


    However, he also knew what was going on here. Ryan Anders was outspokenly being critical about Bitcoin so that Darren ¡ª who he suspects to be FuglyDuckling ¡ª would instinctively become defensive.


    This would even prove more that he was most likely the man they were looking for.


    Darren agreed. Ryan Anders was a man of cunning, a man who knew how to understand, gauge and even manipulate people''s emotions and actions.


    But this wasn''t a trap that Darren was easily going to fall to.


    Not with the Investor System by his side, giving him every single hidden emotion Ryan expressed towards Darren.


    ©³This person is being calculative towards you©¿


    ©³This person is watching your every move©¿


    Darren found it slightly amusing. Ryan Anders was trying to figure out Darren''s emotions and actions, while the system simply submitted his to Darren.


    Humorous indeed.


    When Ryan finished with, "True wealth is about building something physical, don''t you agree? Creating jobs, contributing to the real economy. These digital schemes don''t produce anything of substance."


    Darren leaned in, face as indifferent as a closed book. "I don''t know what you want me to say really, Mr. Anders. I haven''t put much thought into crypto of recent if I''m being honest to you. I used to really be intrigued by the idea of it. But I''ve seen too many collapses in the first year of its release to view it as anything other than untrusting."


    Ryan smiled, taking another sip of the wine. "I agree."


    Darren pursed his lips and sat back. Silence reigned for a while.


    "I am curious though," Darren began. "I was called here to talk about cryptocurrency? Is that something your company wants to consider? I''m confused because you seem to be opposed to it..."


    Ryan didn''t answer. He subtly agreed that this boy was good, keeping his words and emotions in check. However, he continued to attempt establishing control, letting the room absorb his words.


    "I don''t care for crypto. MWMO doesn''t deal in speculation, we deal in reality. Assets, commodities, tangible value. But what I do care about is why a ghost ¡ª a figure so elusive even the best in the industry can''t pinpoint him ¡ª has decided to pour so much of his wealth into it."


    Ryan steepled his fingers, his gaze sharp. "FuglyDuckling. A comical name, let us be honest. But I guess there''s some enigma in the comicality of it. Tell me, Mr. Steele... why is FuglyDuckling so interested in crypto?"


    Darren didn''t flinch. He barely even blinked. He slowly turned his neck to Amelia who immediately looked away, and then to Ryan. "FuglyDuckling? I mean I''ve heard of the name. They bought over a million dollars in Bitcoin early this month. Got a notification."


    He narrowed his eyes. "Why would I know anything about it?"


    "Let''s not waste time," Ryan said with an enamored smile. "I know you''re FuglyDuckling."


    A slow blink.


    Darren tilted his head, considering. "That''s one hell of a thing to say, Mr. Anders. Should I be flattered or insulted?"


    Ryan ignored the feigned amusement. He leaned forward slightly. "A boy like you. A millionaire in only a month. From working as an intern to driving a car with only 76 other copies in the world. This isn''t fiction, Mr. Steele."


    Darren squinted his eyes."I don''t think Bitcoin could make me enough money to buy a car."


    That was true.


    Anders pushed further. "You are a genius, aren''t you? Hiding. I can tell. You''re even hiding right now. This isn''t the real you. This isn''t Darren Steele, the intern, the millionaire, the mystery investor. This is a persona you''ve conjured up for this very meeting, isn''t it?"


    "I mean, you''re right about the first part. I''m neither of those things. I''m Darren Steele, the owner of a startup company which I thought would be the subject matter of this conversation. Turns out I was wrong."


    Darren shrugged.


    Anders chuckled. ''He really is good, but it''s time to make him know how we know. Let''s see how he''ll wiggle out of this.''


    "FuglyDuckling has made two major Bitcoin purchases, one which we managed to trace back to a residential area. Malegreen Street," Anders grinned a gotcha grin. "Tell me, Mr. Steele, do you happen to live at Malegreen Street?"


    There was a silence that lasted for a short period. Both men were just looking at each other.


    Ryan pressed on. "I hired a talented hacker, so I don''t think you can deny it. I also found out a bit about you, my dear subject. You, Darren¡ª" his voice dropped just a fraction, a calculated move, "¡ªyou were a crypto enthusiast back in college. I have spoken to many of your colleagues back then and they all seem to cosign that."


    Darren exhaled through his nose. "First of all. A hacker. Really? You trust the word of a hacker?"


    Ryan''s smile didn''t falter. "I trust proof."

 Chapter 89: The Pendulum (3)

    A quiet pause.


    Darren leaned back, crossing his legs. "So your proof is that I used to have an enthusiasm for crypto in college. Which by the way, I already mentioned in the beginning of this conversation? This is quite awkward if I''m being honest, Mr. Anders. I''m not any mystery investor. When I make moves, I''d like people to know. Brings traction. Traction helps with business."


    Ryan''s fingers drummed lightly against the table. He wasn''t buying it. "But the paper trail doesn''t just lead to Malegreen Street. It led straight to your house. Right on your roof. Right... where... you... live."


    Ryan tilted his head, still smiling. "What now? Are you about to say you don''t live there?"


    Darren''s lips quirked up, slow and knowing. "I mean, yeah I don''t."


    Ryan''s face fell flat to confusion. "What?"


    Darren let the words roll off his tongue, as if tasting it. Then, effortlessly, he tilted his head toward Amelia. "Maybe your assistant could be a dear and confirm something for me?"


    Amelia didn''t move, but her eyes sharpened.


    Darren folded his hands together. "I don''t live in Malegreen anymore. Not since last month. So I know that what you just said is either a straight up lie or an unfortunate misunderstanding."


    Ryan''s brow twitched. ''What is happening right now?''


    Darren continued to act ignorant and honest. "I live in Greenbaby now."


    "Greenbaby? The exclusive street?"


    "Yes." He pulled out his phone with a practiced ease, scrolling for a moment before selecting an image in his gallery and placing the phone face-up on the table. "Here. The property records. The house in Greenbaby, recently purchased. Bought under my mother''s name."


    Ryan''s gaze flickered to Amelia. She had pulled out a laptop and was already typing.


    They waited for her to get done while continuing to stare off. Darren maintained his phlegmatic expression of honesty, while Ryan was slowly finding it difficult to mask his frustration with his serene smile.


    Then, Amelia''s voice, cool and professional, broke the silence. "Sir, it is true. The property had been for sale for close to a year, and was sold last month, under the name... Pamela Steele."


    Ryan''s jaw tightened slightly. ''Pamela Steele is the same woman Gareth says is the boy''s mother. The one now being treated in Holloway''s hospital. Is this boy intentionally working with enemy companies? Am I interested in him for the wrong reasons?''


    Darren spread his hands. "Like I said, that''s my mother. Which means¡ª" He gestured lazily. "I haven''t even stepped foot in Malegreen for weeks. And yet, your hacker traced this so-called Bitcoin purchase directly to Malegreen. Worse¡ª" his voice took on an air of mock disappointment, "¡ªyou even claimed it led straight to my house."


    Ryan said nothing.


    Darren chuckled, shaking his head. "And here I thought MWMO prided itself on due diligence. How embarrassing this must be for you, Mr. Anders."


    Ryan''s fingers curled against the table.


    Darren wasn''t just denying it¡ª he was mocking him. And the worst part?


    It was working.


    Ryan stole a glance at Amelia. She wasn''t looking at him, but the stiffness in her posture told him everything.


    He glared at Darren. ''This audacious scallywag. Is he really not FuglyDuckling?''


    Darren exhaled, leaning forward now, elbows resting on the table. His voice softened, almost sympathetic. "In fact, the first time I stepped foot in Malegreen in a month was today. I needed to reclaim some old files. And, as luck would have it, I ran into Amelia. Great timing on her part."


    Ryan felt a slow burn coil in his gut. Was this all just a complete coincidence? That Rico Evans just happened to say the exact name of the person Gareth Smithers had mentioned.


    He had decided to ignore Gareth and treat Darren like an ally. At least, until he had completely drained him.


    Whoever FuglyDuckling was, Ryan had believed that the person was so extremely wealthy, that they would spend millions on an unproven and unsafe investment.


    He believed that since the person was a new name, it was a chance to manipulate and lead them to wherever he wanted, becoming rich off shady investments he pointed to.


    But what was this now? This boy seemed more interested in challenging him and their ally companies than in anything concerning crypto.


    Taking away his mother from Morrison''s Hospitals and going to a rival? Changing the contract of an ally company and starting a revolution because of it.


    Ryan had ignored all this because he wanted this boy to be the mystery investor so badly. But he was just a nuisance


    Suddenly, the math wasn''t mathing.


    Nothing was lining up anymore.


    It wasn''t just the house alone. Darren''s entire demeanor was wrong.


    There was no guilt, no hesitation, no panic. He wasn''t scrambling to cover tracks. He was comfortable, perfectly at ease, like a man watching a movie without any prior knowledge of it.


    Was he just that good of an actor?


    Ryan could feel it slipping. His mask.


    Calm. Remain... calm. Pretend.


    He inhaled sharply, schooling his expression. "Then clearly, this was a misunderstanding."


    Darren lifted one brow. "Clearly."


    Ryan hated this.


    Darren had something else to say. "I actually thought this meeting was about something else. You see, I''m launching a startup. Thought you might be interested in managing my wealth."


    Ryan stared at him.


    Then, he let out a slow, deliberate sigh.


    ''This little shit.''


    He cleared his throat, smoothing his tie. "Mr. Steele. Moon Wealth Management does not entertain... startups."


    Darren side-glanced at Amelia, as if to say told you so.


    With his teeth clenched, Ryan forced himself to accept the shameful defeat, exhaling through his nose once more. He turned to Amelia. "We''re done here."


    She nodded, rising smoothly.


    Ryan was already on his feet, adjusting his suit as he started to leave.


    Darren stopped him again. "But wait."


    Ryan stopped. Right beside Darren.


    Darren lifted his head to him, and suddenly, that innocence was all gone. It was just the face of a dubious, scheming son of a bitch.


    "I thought you were also going to try to pay me a settlement."


    Ryan froze.


    Slowly, he turned back.


    Darren''s smile was still there, but his eyes?


    They were bloodshot cold.


    "When I said I went back to Malegreen to get some files... didn''t you wonder what was in those files?"


    A silence, sharp as a blade.


    The singer ended her song with a beautiful high note, and everyone clapped for the wonderful performance.


    -----------


    A/N: Had some spare time in my hands, and rather than writing like the lazy SOB I am, I spent it in creating character arts for all the characters in this novel. The aux chapter will be available later today with all the art, please check it out later. Characters will be added each time they appear for the first time in the novel. Whether major or minor.

 Chapter 90: Biggest Story

    The VERITE? Magazine headquarters wasn''t an imposing skyscraper like the major media conglomerates like VOGUE and Fashion Weekly that dominated the industry.


    Sophie didn''t have the kind of money to start that big. Her parents were also not very keen on the idea of her running a magazine company.


    But she had followed on with her dreams and built her magazine in a modest, fine building, no larger than a supermarket or a well-sized diner, nestled between quieter rows of other business establishments.


    The glass-paneled exterior reflected the muted hues of the overcast sky, and the sign above the entrance gleamed in a sharp, minimalist font, advertising the word; VERITE?.


    Brooklyn Baker pulled into the small parking lot, turning off the engine with a flick of her wrist.


    For a moment, she sat in her, flipping through a stack of papers she had placed on the passenger seat. Uncomfortable, she picked up the files and placed them on her lap, quickly reading one after the other.


    Her focus was sharp, her journalist instincts engaged. She hadn''t had much time last night to go through these papers when she received them, and the meeting had already been set for today.


    So, she was trying to investigate as much as possible before a deal was signed. Every page she scanned held pieces of a much larger puzzle ¡ª one that she had been piecing together to hit Gareth Smithers hard and send a obese ''F'' you to Business Everyday and Catherine Langley.


    Exhausted, Brooklyn exhaled, feeling the lack of sleep beneath her eyes.


    She finished the coffee she had with her, gathered the files into a neat stack and pushed open the car door.


    The crisp air nipped at her skin once she stepped out, tucking the papers under her arm while adjusting the strap of her bag.


    She took a quick look of the place. VERITE?. ''Not bad,'' she thought with pursed lips.


    Then, she quickly made her way towards the entrance, the heels of her shoes clicking against the pavement while her mind ran through ways she''d present her pitch.


    A woman, dressed in professional but simple attire, was waiting just inside the glass doors. "Ms. Baker?"


    Brooklyn gave a curt nod. "That''s me."


    "Welcome, miss. Right this way. Miss McClain is excited to see you."


    She was led inside, and immediately, her blue eyes scanned the VERITE? offices with quiet assessment.


    The interior was modern and also had enough practicality to it. The meeting rooms were glass-walled, the workstations were neatly arranged without the chaotic clutter of bigger newsrooms.


    Even though Business Everyday had more funding and income for a larger office. Compared to them, this wasn''t so bad.


    The hum of printers and the distant murmur of journalists exchanging notes was in the air. There was no wasted space, no unnecessary frills. Not bad at all.


    At the far end of the room, a door marked Sophie McClain ¨C CEO and Editor-in-Chief stood slightly ajar.


    Brooklyn''s escort knocked lightly before pushing it open. "Ms. McClain, Brooklyn Baker is here."


    Inside, Sophie McClain looked up from her desk, and for a brief moment, surprise flickered across her face.


    Brooklyn Baker. She actually was here.


    Ever since they talked on phone, Sophie still couldn''t believe that Darren actually had her number and personally knew her.


    She didn''t want to question it. But it felt weird that she was grateful to him.


    Darren Steele had somehow managed to bring one of the top ten business reporters in the entire country, to VERITE?.


    By the way, how the hell did Business Everyday let her go?


    Sophie quickly masked her surprise, rising from her seat with the composed confidence of an experienced editor. She extended a hand. "Brooklyn Baker. Welcome to VERITE?."


    Brooklyn shook her hand, her grip firm. "Thank you for seeing me."


    Sophie gestured to the chair across from her desk. "Please, have a seat."


    Brooklyn sat, setting her files down with formality. After doing so many of these, she wasn''t one for unnecessary pleasantries, not anymore.


    But she also wasn''t cold. "I''ll be straightforward. I need a full page and half for my story. Like we talked on the phone, it''s an expose? on Gareth Smithers. I need it fast. I don''t know how long it is going to be before they come for me."


    "Come for you?" Sophie arched a brow, leaning back slightly. "Is this dangerous business, Miss Baker? And one and a half pages. Hmm. That''s quite the request."


    "I promise you. You have nothing to worry about. I have everything you''ll need. VERITE? will never be accused of not doing its due diligence. I have sources, proof, documents." Brooklyn tapped a finger on the file. "It''s airtight."


    Sophie folded her hands together, studying her. "Let me see."


    Brooklyn slid a neatly prepared document across the desk. Sophie took it, flipping through the pages. The deeper she read, the more the lines between her brows tightened.


    She''d seen some scandals, but heck, this was a huge one. Even though it should have felt personal since this was Lily''s father, Sophie couldn''t afford to look at this any other way but business.


    Darren himself didn''t care. And he used to have sex with her.


    Brooklyn watched as Sophie''s eyes flicked over damning evidence, feeling confident in her stuff.


    When she finished, Sophie exhaled sharply, setting the document down. "This is... explosive."


    "Exactly." Brooklyn met her gaze. "I think we can both agree that it''ll push VERITE? to the next level."


    ''She''s right,'' Sophie thought. ''It''s so scandalous and deep that I know for sure it would take my magazine high. But I also know it could bring the wrath of the top business owners in my company.''


    Sophie brainstorms, weighing the issue. ''However, I''ve been looking for a big story like this to push my magazine. Now it has come, it would be so unwise to discard it.''


    A beat of silence. Then, she nodded.


    "You''ll get two pages."


    Brooklyn didn''t smile, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. Sophie pulled out a contract from her drawer, already filling in the necessary details.


    She lifted her gaze to hand Brooklyn the contract so she could sign. But the woman seemed to be engulfed in something else.


    As Brooklyn had been gathering her documents, she had come across a file she hadn''t fully processed before. Her fingers hovered over it as she skimmed the contents, and now, her expression was filled with dread.


    Sophie, catching the shift in her demeanor, frowned. "Everything alright?"


    Brooklyn didn''t respond right away. Her gaze was locked onto the page, absorbing the weight of what she was seeing.


    "Yes... it''s just... I thought I understood the scope of this story," she murmured, her voice quieter now, tinged with horror. "But it''s much bigger than I thought."


    The headings on the page made it clear:


    ''The Teschmacher Weapon Empire Has Fallen.''


    ''Did They Really Do It?''


    ''Alfred Teschmacher in Hiding!''


    ''Ties to Gangs, Cults, Terrorists!''


    ''Billions in Profit from Deals with Terrorist Organizations.''


    Her eyes moved over the evidence; documents, wire transfers, confidential reports. Logos of various groups; cartels, extremist factions, rogue militias, stamped onto confiscated weapons.


    What the hell?!


    This was proof, undeniable and overwhelming proof of the case from many years ago.


    It was true. Alfred Teschmacher had been supplying arms to national enemies for years.


    And buried within the pages, another revelation.


    Alfred had fled. Archibald Mooney was protecting him. Gareth Smithers had been ordered to take in Alfred''s daughter and keep her safe.


    Brooklyn''s gaze fell to a clipped photograph at the bottom of the page.


    Rachel Teschmacher. That was her name. And that face on the picture.


    Her stomach turned.


    She recognized that face.


    It was the same woman she had seen entering Darren''s house.


    Brooklyn swallowed, her grip tightening on the document.


    ''What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Darren Steele?''

 Chapter 91: Eyes Wide Shut

    It started with a question. A simple one.


    Why was someone trying so hard to bury Gareth Smithers''s scandal?


    Gareth was powerful, but he wasn''t that powerful. Not compared to the real titans ¡ª the Empire Companies that dictated markets and pulled the strings behind governments.


    He was simply a small fry.


    He couldn''t strong-arm the press by threatening to pull funding. But there was someone who could. Someone who had even a connection even though very slight with Gareth Smithers.


    That was Richard Morrison.


    It made sense. The man owned a share in Business Everyday, which means he could simply threaten to cause drastic changes if they wouldn''t do as he asked.


    However, Brooklyn''s investigative mind knew one thing.


    Richard wasn''t Gareth''s ally.


    Their paths had crossed through minor business deals, but there was no real connection between them ¡ª just small, inconsequential meetings.


    That meant one of two things: either Gareth had made a deal with Richard, or someone with enough power had leaned on Richard to keep Gareth''s name clean.


    There was only one man who fit that profile. New suspect on the board; Archibald Mooney.


    Archibald was Gareth''s long-time friend, openly so. But more importantly, he was one of Richard Morrison''s strongest business allies.


    His investments had propped up Richard''s empire. If Archibald wanted something done, Richard would oblige without hesitation.


    But Brooklyn asked the question of why?


    Archibald Mooney had cut ties with so-called friends before. If they became liabilities, he discarded them like dead weight. He had always prioritized his business, his reputation. So why was he bending over backward to keep Gareth safe?


    Something wasn''t right.


    That was when she started digging deeper.


    She worked tirelessly. She spent long nights, endless hours, poring over connections and paper trails.


    She even visited multiple Moon Enterprises branches, sneaking into offices in pretense of interviewing them. Some of them didn''t even know that she had been fired from Business Everyday.


    When no one was looking, she would sneak into offices, searching files that essentially promised nothing tangible, yet her obsessive mind of a journalist refused to falter.


    Then, finally, the break came.


    It wasn''t a single moment of discovery, but a series of them, each piece falling into place with quiet inevitability.


    One night, an anonymous email slipped into her inbox. No sender. No subject. Just a single attachment labeled ''Eyes Wide Shut.''


    Someone knew what she was doing.


    Brooklyn''s stomach tightened as she clicked on it.


    Inside was a goldmine. It was all the transactions between Archibald Mooney and Gareth Smithers. None were illegal, basically none. A few could be argued as unethical, but none were outright illegal.


    Alongside the files were Gareth''s investments kept secured by Moon Wealth Management Offices. Many of them clearly showed that these investments were not Gareth''s ideas but stolen. However, nothing gave her the answer she was really looking for.


    That''s why she''d been reading and reading, trying to find out why this was sent to her. Where was it? Where was the reason why Archibald wanted Gareth''s business secret?


    Well, here it is now.


    Brooklyn''s breath was still trapped in her throat. She continued to read; Illegal arms deals. Billions funneled through intermediaries, reaching the hands of cartels, warlords, and terrorist organizations across the globe.


    She felt sick.


    Gareth''s scandal was nothing compared to this.


    She leaned back on the chair, staring at the paper.


    All the years she''d spent in her career, this story. This was the kind of story that could get her killed.


    She exhaled shakily.


    What the hell was she going to do now?


    Sophie was simply staring, wondering if she was alright. "Miss Baker?"


    "I need an extra page," she said without preamble.


    Sophie narrowed her eyes, surprised by the sudden request. "An extra page? Just like that? We only had two available. Half is being decided, and you''re been given the remaining one and half. But you want an extra? The issue is locked, Miss Baker. You know how these things work."


    Brooklyn''s face was already pale with the shock she just refused that she couldn''t even emote to anything else. "The story is much bigger. One and a half can''t be enough."


    That made Sophie pause. She raised a brow, intrigued. "How much bigger?"


    Brooklyn hesitated. Her fingers tapped restlessly against the files. "A lot more."


    Both of Sophie''s eyebrows were arched now. "Can I take a look at this new part of the story you want to include?"


    Brooklyn shook her head. "No. You can''t. I''m sorry."


    Sophie frowned. "Then I can''t just give you a page."


    Brooklyn leaned forward. "I''m really sorry, Miss McClain, but I need you to trust me. If I don''t get this in the next issue, they''ll try to silence me before I can publish it elsewhere."


    Sophie studied her carefully. "Miss Baker, I one hundred percent back my journalists. But an extra page? Without knowing what''s on it?"


    Brooklyn swallowed. "Trust me, please. Let me have the page. You won''t regret it."


    Sophie tapped her pen against the desk, considering. Then she exhaled through her nose. "That page was going to be an advertisement for a nail polish brand anyway. It can be rescheduled."


    Brooklyn''s relief was instant. "Thank you."


    Sophie sighed. "This is not how things work. It''s only because you''re the Brooklyn Baker that I''m letting it slide."


    Brooklyn signed the contract. As soon as she stepped out of the office, she flipped open her phone and dialed a number.


    Darren Steele.


    -------------


    Morning light filtered through the grand lobby as Darren walked into the Golden Hay Hotel.


    The chandeliers on the ceiling and their beautiful warm glow designed the place with its reflective lights bouncing off the polished marble floors.


    Darren adjusted the cuffs of his suit as he strode toward the elevators, Ryan Anders'' words from the night before replaying in his thoughts.


    "If you''ve chosen to consider me an enemy, Mr. Steele, do know your startup company will sooner lick the gravel before it will ever reach the sky. Tread lightly. I will send Amelia to discuss the settlement with you. Be smart with your choice. We can destroy your new company if we dared wish to. Accept whatever offer we give you, or face the consequences."


    "Good bye."

 Chapter 92: Telling Rachel

    "If you''ve chosen to consider me an enemy, Mr. Steele, do know your startup company will sooner lick the gravel before it will ever reach the sky. Tread lightly. I will send Amelia to discuss the settlement with you. Be smart with your choice. We can destroy your new company if we dared wish to. Accept whatever offer we give you, or face the consequences."


    "Good bye."


    Darren had watched him leave with a cold face, uncertain if he was intimidated or not. Amelia had looked at him one more time before walking out the door..


    Darren sighed. ''Rivals were expected weren''t they? I think it''s more interesting that Ryan has seen me as an enemy. He''ll soon find that stopping me is impossible.''


    The elevator doors slid open, and Darren stepped inside, reading the words on the purple-hued interface of his system.


    ©³PHASE 1-7: 62% COMPLETE


    PHASE 1: 99%


    PHASE 2: 100%


    PHASE 3: 22%


    PHASE 4: 15%


    PHASE 5: 0%


    PHASE 6: 100%


    PHASE 7: 97%©¿


    ''62% complete. That''s a promising growth. Since Phase 2, 6 and 7 are basically complete, that means Kara is done with the digital set up of everything. That''s good to know.''


    He pulled out his phone and sent her a text: Well done.


    Her reply was instant: Well done? How did you know I''m finished?


    Darren didn''t respond, he shook his head and sunk the phone into his pocket. But it began to ring immediately. She was calling. He smirked and answered.


    "How did you know?" she asked.


    Darren stepped out of the elevator, heading toward Rachel''s room. "Just a feeling."


    Kara huffed. "So when are you coming to see me? It''s getting really lonely in this place."


    "I''m coming today, actually." He walked through the corridor, reaching Rachel''s room. "I''ll be with my secretary, so don''t be overly underdressed."


    "Hey¡ª!"


    "Bye, Kara."


    Darren ended the call, stopping outside Rachel''s door.


    The two guards he had stationed beside it gave him a greeting nod, acknowledging his presence.


    He didn''t return the gesture, his mind was elsewhere, locked on the weight of what he was about to do. Last night''s conversation with Anders had only reinforced what he already knew: hesitation wasn''t an option anymore.


    If he wanted to move forward, he had to bring Rachel in. She and Kara had to work together. There was no more room for waiting.


    Steeling himself, he took a deep breath, lifted his hand and knocked.


    A faint shuffle came from inside.


    Then, after a pause, the door cracked open. Rachel stood there, stepping out from the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Steam curled behind her from the lingering heat of her shower, the dampness of her skin catching the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Her uncovered eye locked onto him, and for a moment, she simply studied him.


    "Hey," she said.


    Darren''s gaze flickered over her wet skin before meeting her eyes again. "Hey."


    She stepped aside, allowing him in without hesitation. He crossed the threshold, glancing around the room.


    How people''s rooms were was a telltale sign of how their days went. Darren knew this. If Rachel had stayed all day worrying about him, he could tell.


    The room was neat, orderly, but still carried subtle signs of her presence; clothes folded on the armchair, a half-finished cup of tea by the bedside table.


    He turned back to her as she pulled her towel tighter around herself.


    "I''m surprised you''re this calm," Darren said, leaning slightly against the desk. "No missed calls, no frantic messages. I expected you to be losing your mind, considering I left you out of the business yesterday."


    Rachel met his gaze steadily. "You told me staying still would please you."


    Darren stilled, observing her. He hadn''t expected that response, nor the quiet resolve behind it. After a beat, he gave a small nod. "Yes," he admitted. "I did say that."


    She exhaled, running her fingers through her damp hair. "So, how did it go?"


    Darren leaned back slightly, trying to ignore how stunning she looked right now, how the smell of her soap continuously messed with his thoughts.


    He crossed his arms over his chest. "It went fine. I got everything I wanted. And I''m sure Gareth won''t be coming for you anytime soon."


    Rachel blinked, then slowly, a small smile pulled at her lips. A mix of emotions flickered across her face; relief, gratitude, and affection.


    Darren was about to say something else, but she had suddenly closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him.


    He stiffened for a fraction of a second.


    "Thank you," she murmured against his chest.


    Darren exhaled, allowing himself to relax slightly. His hand hovered for a moment before he rested it lightly against her back. "Hey, it''s fine. I''m just keeping my promise to you."


    Rachel pulled away slightly, tilting her head up to look at him. "You could''ve just said ''you''re welcome,'' you know."


    He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "You''re right. You''re welcome."


    She shook her head, stepping back as she adjusted her towel. "So, what''s the plan for today?" she asked, her tone shifting to a lighter, more enthusiastic vibe.


    Darren was silent, watching her for a moment before taking a breath. It''s time, he thought.


    "Are we not doing anyth¡ª?"


    "I need to tell you something, Rachel."


    She stilled. "Oh. Okay." Her posture straightened, all traces of former conversations fading as she focused on him. Her attention on his face and presence. "Tell me."


    Darren held her gaze, measuring her reaction before he spoke. He had considered the best way to reveal this, the most logical approach, the smoothest delivery.


    But in the end, all he did was take a deep breath. ''Here goes. I wonder how she''ll react.''


    "I''m FuglyDuckling," he said as plainly as he could.


    There was a beat of silence.


    Rachel''s brow arched slightly, her uncovered eye narrowing with complete confusion and cluelessness.


    "You''re who now?"


    Darren''s face deflated.

 Chapter 93: Idea Puppet

    ''Right, of course she would act that way. Why didn''t I consider the possibility that she had no idea who FuglyDuckling even was?''


    "Who''s FuglyDuckling? That''s a very comical name." Then she looked down in thought. "Although saying it out loud. It does sound somewhat familiar. Like I''ve heard it somewhere recently."


    Darren suddenly grabbed her by the waist, "Oh," and sat her down.


    "I''ll explain it to you like this."


    His eyes gleamed with intensity, his voice unwavering as he detailed his past, his financial moves, and his grand vision for Darren Investments.


    He explained it all to her. From when he left the company and decided to put his financial acumen and mathematical knowledge into Bitcoin.


    Rachel watched him closely, her fingers gripping the armrest of the couch.


    He told her he took out a loan from the Red Fang, when Rachel pointed out how risky that was, he told her he was the one he sent them to jail. And he told her how he did it.


    He explained to her how his knowledge on how to invest using numbers and analysis had led him to make massive earnings in Bitcoin because of it.


    To prove it, he showed her his phone and his digital wallet. The numbers flashed on the screen, the staggering figures, proof of his foresight. Then he pulled up his portfolio and showed her that as well.


    "But this," Darren continued, appearing like a mad scientist speaking about his life''s work, "this is just the beginning. Darren Investments isn''t just about crypto. I''m building something bigger. We''re building something bigger. A financial empire."


    His voice shifted, taking on a sharp, passionate edge.


    "Think about it. Cryptocurrency is an entirely new system. A decentralized world. A power shift. The banks? The corporations? They''ll have to play by my rules soon enough. I''ll control markets before they even realize what''s happening. I know this. I see the numbers in front of me like a magic screen. Trust me, Rachel, this isn''t gambling. It''s numbers. Trends. Data. Every movement, every investment is calculated."


    His voice was a blade, sharp and unrelenting, carving the air with precision. He spoke of decentralized finance, of blockchain''s untapped potential, of a world where currency bowed to algorithms instead of governments. His hands moved as if conducting an invisible orchestra ¡ª charts, projections, risk assessments spilling from him like scripture.


    Rachel sat transfixed.


    It wasn''t like he was explaining. He was evangelizing.


    His eyes burned with the fervor of a man who saw numbers as living, breathing entities. "The market isn''t random, Rachel. It''s a language. And I speak it."


    She swallowed. Hard.


    There was something terrifying about him at that moment. It was kind of beautiful. The way his mind worked, the sheer certainty in his calculations.


    It didn''t feel like simple intelligence. It was madness. A glorious, unchecked obsession with the game.


    And God help her, she was falling for it.


    Darren exhaled, suddenly aware he had lost himself in the moment. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked.


    "So... what do you think?"


    That question snapped her back into reality.


    Rachel bit her lip, suppressing the emotions stirring inside her.


    "I think I know why Gareth wanted to lock you down as his idea puppet," she murmured. "You''re some kind of number whiz. A financial analyst. No wonder you graduated so young. And no wonder Gareth knew you could do great things if you left."


    Darren''s eyes darkened slightly. "He said that?"


    "Yes, a few times." Rachel hesitated, then added, "I also overheard him telling Lily to make sure to lock you down. He was scared of you giving your ideas to other companies. Maybe even... creating your own."


    She watched his expression change and immediately regretted it. "I''m sorry. I don''t know if you already knew that."


    Darren''s face was unreadable, then he simply shrugged. "It''s fine. I do."


    Rachel stood up, smoothing out her towel. "Thanks for telling me all this. I always knew you were hiding something, but I waited. I figured you''d tell me when you were ready."


    Darren felt a small wave of relief at that.


    She chuckled softly. "I remember now. Where I heard that name. FuglyDuckling."


    She chuckled more. "It''s funny... that man the other day, the headhunter. He was searching for the mystery investor when it was you he was talking to all along."


    Darren smirked. "Yeah, that is funny, isn''t it?"


    Rachel laughed for a bit longer, and Darren just watched her with a smile on her face. ''Darn. She''s so pretty when she''s like this. Especially when you know what she''s usually like.''


    He held her by the chin. "Come on, dress up. I want you to meet someone and see how far we''ve reached in the company''s growth."


    Rachel nodded. "Okay."


    -------


    They both left the hotel and arrived at Kara''s apartment some moments later.


    The door swung open.


    "Hey! Hey! Ho¡ª" Kara paused, her playful greeting dying on her lips as she took in Rachel.


    Rachel stood poised, wearing a sharp purple blouse and a fitted pencil skirt, holding a file in one hand. Her gaze, partially obscured by her long hair, was as frozen as ice.


    Darren''s eyes looked down at Kara''s clothes. She was undressed.


    "You forgot, didn''t you?" he asked, unimpressed.


    Kara gave a sheepish smile. "Maybe."


    Darren sighed. "Rachel, this is Kara DeAndre, the head of my IT department. Kara, this Rachel Teschmacher, she''s my secretary, managing assistant and consultant."


    Kara''s brow lifted slightly. "Oohhh, fancy." She studied Rachel a little too intently.


    Rachel turned to Darren. "Did you say head of IT?"


    "Yes."


    Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Unconventional. But then again, that''s your style, sir."


    "Sir?" Kara snorted teasingly. "So you go by sir now, Mr. D?"


    Rachel glanced at them both. "Hopefully that D stands for Darren... or Duckling."


    Darren pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let''s just go inside."


    --------------


    The Office Setup & Investments


    Inside, the three sat in Kara''s workspace as she pulled up her data.


    ----


    A/N: Please readers! We''re so close to reaching the second privilege tier in the Win/Win competitions. Please purchase privilege! If we hit it, then a ten chapter mass release comes on the 5th!

 Chapter 94: The Plan To Get Renovation Funds

    The door swung open.


    "Hey! Hey! Ho¡ª" Kara paused, her playful greeting dying on her lips as she took in Rachel.


    Rachel stood poised, wearing a sharp purple blouse and a fitted pencil skirt, holding a file in one hand. Her gaze, partially obscured by her long hair, was as frozen as ice.


    Darren''s eyes looked down at Kara''s clothes. She was undressed.


    "You forgot, didn''t you?" he asked, unimpressed.


    Kara gave a sheepish smile. "Maybe."


    Darren sighed. "Rachel, this is Kara DeAndre, the head of my IT department. Kara, this Rachel Teschmacher, she''s my secretary, managing assistant and consultant."


    Kara''s brow lifted slightly. "Oohhh, fancy." She studied Rachel a little too intently.


    Rachel turned to Darren. "Did you say head of IT?"


    "Yes."


    Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Unconventional. But then again, that''s your style, sir."


    "Sir?" Kara snorted teasingly. "So you go by sir now, Mr. D?"


    Rachel glanced at them both. "Hopefully that D stands for Darren... or Duckling."


    Darren pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let''s just go inside."


    --------------


    The Office Setup & Investments


    Inside, the three sat in Kara''s workspace as she pulled up her data.


    "We''ve got over 70 applicants for the IT team," Kara said. "Developers, cyber analysts, network specialists... we''ll have to go through them carefully."


    Rachel, ever the professional, nodded. "What''s our priority right now?"


    Kara leaned back. "Well, for an investment company, especially one focusing on crypto, security is key. I''ve shown all of this to Darren and he''s confirmed them."


    Rachel tapped a pen against her file. "Show them to me."


    Kara raised an eyebrow and glanced at Darren. "She reminds me of you when we first met. Birds of a feather, huh?"


    Darren interjected. "None of that is necessary. We''re fast-tracking this. Rachel, if I have gone through something, the only reason that you would demand to go through it yourself is if you feel that I am incapable of being thorough. Is that the case here?"


    Rachel frowned. "No... Sir. I''m really sorry, Mr. Steele. I apologize. My enthusiasm to serve sometimes leads me to unintentionally undermine you. I really am sorry."


    Kara just kept glancing between the two. ''They''ve definitely fucked,'' she thought.


    "It''s fine. I just wanted you to get up to date on the progress. Now you have, I''d like to concentrate on another subject matter. The Helios Dome ¡ª our headquarters ¡ª I want it to be fully operational within a month."


    Rachel''s eyes widened slightly. "A month is too short, sir. If we''re going to fast track it that much, it''s going to cost hundreds of millions."


    Kara nodded. "That''s true." She began clicking on the keyboard. "I searched it myself. Renovation alone? $10M+. Cybersecurity, networking, hiring an elite workforce? Easily $100M - $400M if we''re aiming for top-tier execution."


    Darren sighed. "At the rate they''re going now, the building will be ready in five months time. I can''t wait that long."


    "Yes, but it''s... $500M"


    Both women gazed at Darren, knowing he didn''t have that kind of money yet.


    They didn''t know that at that moment, he was staring right at the Investor System''s interface and it just gave him the perfect idea.


    ------------


    ©³AVAILABLE INVESTMENTS WITH GUARANTEED LARGE PROFITS IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS©¿


    ©³Only $22,000,000 is allowed to be used in these emergency investments©¿


    >©³High-Leverage Bet on Apple Stock (Options Trading)©¿


    ©³Investment: $10M


    Projected Profit: $500M+ (in weeks)


    Details:


    Purchase deep-in-the-money call options on Apple (AAPL) before iPhone 4 earnings release.


    Apple''s record-breaking sales report will cause a stock surge.


    With leverage, the $10M investment could 50x ¡ú $500M+.©¿


    > ©³Shorting the Housing Market''s Second Collapse©¿


    ©³Investment: $10M


    Projected Profit: $1B+ (in weeks)


    Details:


    Banks still hold toxic real estate loans¡ªthey are about to crash further.


    Short-sell their stocks & mortgage securities.


    As they plummet, you will profit heavily.


    A $10M short could easily return $1B+.©¿


    --------------------------------


    Darren stared at the screen. Those are crazy returns for emergency investments.


    "Mr. Steele?" Rachel called. "Sir? Are you alright?"


    "Oh. He does this a lot. Just stares into space like something is there," Kara whispered. "I guess that''s how he brainstorms."


    Darren''s face lowered, now darkened with determination. "I have a plan."


    "Told you," Kara smirked at Rachel.


    "Two words," he said. "Housing Markets and Apple. Well, three words, but you get it."


    Rachel frowned. "Apple? That''s... risky."


    Darren leaned forward. "Listen. It might not look like it, but Apple is about to skyrocket. iPhone 4 is dropping, and I''m going to make a high-leverage bet on their stock. With the right moves, my $10M turns into $500M+."


    Rachel crossed her arms. "Sir? Are you sure? Apple isn''t exactly the best phone maker right now."


    Darren smiled. "Trust me."


    He continued.


    "For the housing market? We know how unstable it is right now. I''ll short the worst banks still holding toxic loans. When they crash, I profit massively. And I mean massively. I''m talking way past the hundreds of millions."


    Kara let out a low whistle. "That is... actually really smart."


    Rachel studied him for a long moment before saying. "I agree. Hopefully no one else has even thought of it. If anyone can pull this off... it''s you."


    Darren nodded. "We start now."


    As they strategized, Darren''s phone rang. He checked the screen. Brooklyn.


    "I''ll be right back," he said to them and stepped aside to answer.


    "What is it?"


    Brooklyn''s voice was serious. "Hey. I was going through my story, doing some investigation and came around something really major, Darren. Something I''m sure you''ll like to know about. It''s about Rachel. Her family."


    Darren''s expression darkened, moving his eyes to Rachel. "I''m with her right now. I can''t talk."


    "You need to see this, Darren. Before I do anything, I need you to see it."


    Darren frowned. She''s been very serious right now. He exhaled sharply. "Send it to my email."


    Ending the call, he tried his very best not to think about it as he rejoined the two women.


    Rachel looked at him, an enthusiastic smile stretched on her beautiful face. "Any problem?"


    Darren knew then that he had to protect that smile.


    "No. It''s fine." He adjusted his sleeves, smiling back." "Now, let''s go make some money."

 Chapter 95: Tension

    Clung! Clung! Clung!


    In the harsh afternoon sun, hammers clanged against steel beams. Sparks flew as welding torches sealed the final metal supports in place.


    The air inside the Helios Dome buzzed with the sounds of drills, power saws, and the gruff voices of men at work.


    But the popular building no longer was called the Helios Dome, now it was called The Steele Complex


    The old glass dome was almost unrecognizable. The new Steele Complex was now an elite business hub where the activities of Darren and his company would soon take over the State of Calivernia.


    Workers moved about, clad in dirt-streaked overalls, lifting materials and hauling debris.


    Some sat on scaffolding, taking short breathers, cigarettes hanging from their lips. A few stood by the edge of the half-built glass viewing area, watching the controlled chaos below.


    "Damn, they''re not playin'' around with this place," one worker muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "New name, new look. This Steele guy''s serious."


    "Better be. You know what was going through my head when I found out it was a kid who bought this place," another chuckled, slamming a crate shut.


    "Still can''t believe he pulled that off. I mean I imagined the Zurichs with their headquarters over there. Thought they were trying to expand. If not them, maybe the Nelsons wanted a new bank branch. Who the hell is Darren Steele?"


    "Kids these days men. They have more money than older people. And money talks, man, it does. Money and smart people."


    "Yeah, well, as it turns out I''ve probably not been listening as much, eh?"


    Laughter rumbled among them, followed by a sharp whistle from the foreman. "Quit runnin'' your mouths and get back to work! We got a deadline to hit, and the boss don''t do late."


    The men groaned but obeyed, getting back to their tasks as the future of the Steele Complex took shape.


    On the other end of the city, in the headquarters of Smithers Group, Gareth sat at his massive oak desk, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.


    His new lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy-blue suit, sat across from him, hands neatly folded.


    "The contract stands," she stated plainly, her voice devoid of sympathy.


    Gareth''s glare could have burned through steel. "That''s impossible."


    "It''s fact," she corrected. "Your former legal counsel¡ª" she glanced at the image of Attorney Jonathan Vance, "¡ªwasn''t just your contract drafter. He had broad corporate authority, he was functioning as the Chief Legal Officer or a consultant for your company with unilateral amendment powers."


    Gareth''s jaw twitched.


    "By accepting Steele''s investment idea as a bribe, Vance amended the default employment contract¡ª without informing the company. The Smithers Group operates on standardized contract templates, modified slightly per role. When Vance changed it, the entire company followed the revised terms. Either through automation, clerical oversight, or sheer incompetence, the change was pushed through."


    Silence hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.


    "So what you''re saying," Gareth finally spoke, voice low and deadly, "is that my own damn lawyer handed Darren the golden key to my kingdom... and brought chaos into my walls?"


    The lawyer nodded. "With everything going on against you right now, I don''t think suing Vance is even a good idea. What we should do now... is prepare for court."


    Gareth''s hand slammed against his desk, sending pens and paper flying. "I will not let some nobody with a bit of cash walk away with my empire!"


    He turned sharply, pointing to his daughter.


    "You did this."


    Lily, standing by the bookshelf, flinched at the accusation. She said nothing. Her arms crossed between her thighs tightly as if bracing for a storm.


    Gareth''s glare burned into her, but Lily didn''t fight back. She just looked down, silent, guilt-ridden.


    ------------


    In Rachel''s hotel room, the glow of her laptop screen bathed her face in pale light.


    Numbers, spreadsheets, and transaction receipts filled her monitor. She was knee-deep in financial planning; drafting purchase orders, setting up wire transfers, and outlining the major housing market investment she was about to unleash.


    Every click of her keyboard echoed in the quiet hotel room. She paused, rubbed her temples, then leaned back.


    Almost there. It had to be perfect. She couldn''t let Darren down.


    She reached for her coffee, took a sip, and continued clicking at the keyboard.


    ------------


    "Move those sluggish bodies of yours! You''re men, dammit!"


    Kara''s voice rang out. In the center of towering metal containers stacked high above the docks, she was standing on top of a truck, barking orders at the workers handling the shipments.


    "No time to waste here, boys come on!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "Every single Apple stock certificate in those boxes needs to be stored safely and quickly. We''re moving fast on this, understood?"


    The dock workers moved with urgency, hauling boxes off cargo ships and onto the waiting trucks.


    Kara checked her watch, then the manifest.


    "If my boss gets mad at me, I''m going to go to all of your houses and make sure your beds and pillows are warm and sweaty by the time you get back from work!"


    -------------------


    In MWMO headquarters, Ryan sat in the dim glow of his desk lamp, rage festering inside him like an open wound.


    He hadn''t stopped thinking about him since then. Darren Steele. That brat.


    All that happened. All of it. It could not be a coincidence. It couldn''t be.


    He flipped open his notebook, eyes locked on the name he had written then.


    Darren Steele.


    His hand trembled as he gripped his pen and underlined it. Again. And again. And again. And aga¡ª


    Snap!


    The pen snapped in his grip. Ink bled onto his fingers.


    His face darkened, and with a mad shriek, he flung the pen to the wall. "Insects! They''re all fucking insects! And I''m the king!"


    "Me!"


    He dug his fingers into the air, and slammed his head repeatedly on the desk. Then he stopped.


    His hands reached for his phone and he picked it up. "Amelia."


    "Yes, sir?" his secretary replied.


    "Find out which real estate company sold Darren Steele his house."


    A beat of silence. Then she finally responded,


    "Yes, sir."


    -----------------------


    Brooklyn was in her home office, staring at the file in front of her.


    The Teschmacher Weapon Scandal.


    Her fingers hovered over her typewriter, she was building the report, but she still didn''t know whether to include this. She hadn''t gotten back a response from Darren.


    Brooklyn picked up her phone and texted him.


    ''Hey, have you seen it?''


    -------------------------


    In Darren''s dark room, the only light was from the laptop screen in front of him.


    He was sitting in silence, his face pale. When his phone buzzed beside him, he moved his gaze slightly and saw Brooklyn''s text, but he ignored it.


    His eyes returned to the screen, locked into it, dread in his facial features.


    ''THE TESCHMACHER WEAPON EMPIRE HAS FALLEN.''


    ''DID THEY REALLY DO IT?''


    ''ALFRED TESCHMACHER IN HIDING!''


    ''TIES TO GANGS, CULTS, TERRORISTS!''


    ''BILLIONS IN PROFIT FROM DEALS WITH TERRORIST ORGANIZATIONS.''


    Darren''s pulse pounded in his ears.


    He knew. This news would shatter Rachel. Her father had already destroyed her life enough. Because of that, he couldn''t let this out in the open, and he couldn''t let her find out about it either.


    He had to protect her from it...

 Chapter 96: FuglyDuckling

    The next morning came like the day of rapture.


    Darren stepped down the grand staircase of his mansion, his polished shoes tapping lightly against the wooden steps.


    The morning sun filtered through the high windows, long shadows were casted along the nest tiled floor. He adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, his face was blank and determined, all he could think of was the weight of the day already pressing on his shoulders.


    At the bottom of the stairs, his housekeeper, Gladys, stood near the doorway, sorting a small pile of mail. The elderly woman looked up at him with a warm, knowing smile.


    "Visitors today?" she asked warmly.


    Darren shook his head. "No, you have the whole house to yourself." He picked up his coat from the hanger, sliding it on smoothly. "Perhaps you wouldn''t mind making me something before I get back. It''s going to be a difficult day."


    Gladys chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Anything for you, dear."


    Darren returned her smile ¡ª brief but genuine ¡ª before stepping outside. But the moment the door closed behind him, his face hardened once more.


    The warmth was gone. The focus returned.


    He got into his black One-77, turned the ignition, and drove off toward Brooklyn''s house.


    -------------


    Miles away, in a lustrous house overlooking the city, Ryan Anders woke up early, as he always did.


    His room was pristine; minimalist, modern for the time, and almost clinical in its perfection. Large windows bathed the space in golden light, reflecting off the polished hardwood floors.


    He stepped out of bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. No messages. He preferred it this way. His mood was already sour.


    Downstairs, his three housekeepers were already moving about, tidying up, preparing breakfast. Ryan barely acknowledged them as he walked through the house.


    His car cleaner, a young man barely in his twenties, was outside, hunched over a Bentley Continental GT, polishing the rims.


    "Is it done?" Ryan asked with a cutting tone.


    The boy straightened. "Not yet, sir. Just a few more¡ª"


    Ryan clicked his tongue in irritation. "Pathetic," he muttered under his breath. "Forget it. I''ll take the 911."


    He walked past the boy, heading to another part of the garage. He grabbed the keys to his silver Porsche 911 Turbo S, stepped in, and revved the engine. Then, without another word, he sped off towards his destination: Wellington Realty.


    ----------


    Darren pulled up in front of a modest but well-kept townhouse, shutting off the engine. He stepped out, adjusting his coat as he approached the door. Before he could knock, the door swung open, revealing a young woman, somewhere around teen age.


    She looked at him with immediate intrigue.


    "Whoa, you''re tall," she remarked. "And well-dressed. Are you my sister''s boyfriend?"


    Darren didn''t react to the compliment. "Where''s Brooklyn?"


    Candace pouted at his lack of amusement but pointed inside. "She''s upstairs, second door on the right."


    She led the way, attempting small talk along the way ¡ª something about the weather, something about school ¡ª but Darren wasn''t interested. His mind was elsewhere.


    When they reached the room, Candace leaned against the doorframe. "Hey, Brook, you''ve got a visitor."


    Inside, Brooklyn adjusted herself on the bed, straightening in a way that clearly suggested to Candace that this guy wasn''t just a random visitor to her sister.


    But the moment Darren stepped in, their eyes met, and the mood shifted.


    "Hey," Brooklyn said, her tone softer, cautious.


    Candace glanced between them, then sighed dramatically. "We''ll have fun," she muttered before leaving.


    Darren shut the door behind her.


    -------------


    Ryan entered Wellington Realty, moving with purpose. He approached the front desk, where an agent immediately recognized him, his posture straightening with a respectful nod.


    "Mr. Anders, sir," the agent greeted him.


    Ryan nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes, if you don''t mind, I was looking at a building, and I was disheartened to find out that it has already been sold. If you don''t mind, can you point me to the agent who sold the property on Greenbaby, No. 147?"


    The agent quickly checked a list. "Oh, yes. That would be..." His finger traced down the page before he found the name. "Victoria." He gestured toward a young woman with black hair, dressed in fine office attire.


    "Thank you," Ryan said.


    The agent, a clear bootlicker, smiled eagerly. "You''re welcome, sir. An honor to help you."


    Ryan didn''t acknowledge the flattery, merely turning and making his way toward Victoria.


    --------------------


    Back in Brooklyn''s house, Darren had already begun with his demand.


    "You''re not listening to me. You can''t. No. You can''t upload that story on the Teschmachers."


    Brooklyn crossed her arms. "Darren, I understand where you''re coming from, but you know why I can''t do that." Her voice was patient and still firm. "The whole point of this is not keeping news like this from the outside world. People need to know what Alfred Teschmacher did."


    Darren''s frown deepened. His morals twisted inside him like a vice. "Rachel will be hurt," he muttered. "She''s already going through a lot right now. I don''t want this... I don''t want her father''s sins to become her cross to carry. Not now, not ever."


    "Isn''t that a bit hypocritical? Weren''t they also trying to keep me quiet because they didn''t want their friend to be affected by a scandal?" Brooklyn asked.


    There was some truth to that.


    "I don''t care if it''s hypocritical," Darren said with dark determination in his voice. "What I care about is Rachel. Gareth deserves it. Rachel... she doesn''t deserve any of this."


    Brooklyn softened. She''d never seen Darren like this. Not even when he got mad at her for trespassing. "Darren... you''re making this difficult for me. I wanted you to know first so you wouldn''t be caught off guard."


    "I gave you this platform, Brooklyn."


    Brooklyn sighed. "Darren, come on. I was going to find one sooner or later. You know that."


    His eyes darkened as he looked down, lost in thought. "I can''t let that come out. For Rachel''s sake, I just can''t."


    Brooklyn slumped her shoulders pitifully.


    -------------------


    Ryan Anders stopped in front of Victoria''s desk. She glanced up, professional and poised.


    "You''re Victoria, right?"


    "Yes?"


    "I''m Ryan Anders. I represent Steele Group. We were looking into acquiring a property, only to find it had already been sold. That property was No. 147 on Greenbaby."


    Victoria nodded. "Yes, that property was purchased recently."


    "Understood. Could you confirm the buyer?"


    She glanced at her records. "The house was bought under the name of Pamela Steele."


    Ryan nodded. "That clears it up. But the transaction. What was the account name that sent the payment to you?"


    Victoria''s professional smile faltered slightly. "Why do you need that information, sir?"


    Ryan remained composed. "It''s just a formality. We''ve had recent concerns about identity theft within the Group, and we need to verify that the transaction was legitimate."


    Victoria''s expression stiffened. Identity theft? If she had mistakenly sold to the wrong person, she could be in serious trouble.


    "Oh," she murmured, now visibly uneasy. "If that''s the case, I''d better check immediately." She turned to her system, searching through the records with new urgency.


    "Good," Ryan said, watching her with unwavering patience.


    --------------------


    "You have to forget about it, Brooklyn. Burn it."


    Brooklyn exhaled, frustrated.


    "Brooklyn, you said you owed me, didn''t you? For not reporting you for trespassing, for helping you with the platform?"


    Brooklyn sighed, looking off to the side, deep in thought. After a moment, she turned back. "Darren... you care about this so much. But the thing is, even if I wanted to help, there''s not much I can do now. The page has already been booked. It''s been advertised as a big story. If you want this story gone, then you need to find me another big one. And fast."


    Hearing that, Darren lowered his head. A big story. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. His mind raced.


    Well, for Rachel''s sake, did he really have a choice?


    ----------------------


    "Oh, found it, sir," Victoria said, staring at the screen.


    Ryan''s expression remained steady. "Good. What is the account name?"


    ------------------------


    Darren took a deep breath.


    "You want a big story then, huh?" he asked, his voice low and resolute.


    Brooklyn stared at him, waiting.


    Darren squared his shoulders, inhaling sharply before meeting her eyes. "Here it is."


    His next words came out like a silent thunder.


    "I''m FuglyDuckling." he said. "I''m the mystery investor you hate so much."


    Brooklyn''s eyes widened. in disbelief.


    --------------------


    Victoria''s gaze hovered over the screen. "As registered in our transactions, Mr. Anders, the money was sent from an account owned by a Mr. Duckling."


    Ryan''s eyes widened, shock and rage surging through him.


    "That bastard."

 Chapter 97: The Calm After

    The sound of splashing water softened the day around the premises. The sun shimmered against the vast blue sky, reflecting off the rippling surface of the infinity pool that stretched before Darren Steele.


    The water, cool and refreshing, lapped gently against his skin as he leaned against the edge, allowing himself a moment of indulgence.


    He took in deep breaths, his mansion standing behind him, a fortress of stone and wood, secluded in luxury.


    The tranquil atmosphere should have been soothing, but Darren''s mind was restless. Even in the time of relaxation, she was unable to actually relax.


    His thoughts swirled in his mind like the water beneath him.


    It had been a silent week.


    Brooklyn had agreed to cancel her plans of releasing the Teschmacher family expose?, and change the story to the FuglyDuckling reveal.


    He could still recall the precise moment he told her, the way her entire face shifted, as if her mind couldn''t process the words. He had never seen someone''s eyes widen that much.


    There wasn''t an emotion of suddenness that he didn''t see in her face. Shock, disbelief, and at times it looked like she felt betrayed that he hadn''t told her sooner. Darren didn''t think she had the right to feel hurt over that.


    In fact, Brooklyn was so shocked that she had straight out refused to believe it at first, outright laughing as if he was playing some cruel joke.


    But when he presented the proof ¡ª showing her his portfolio and the former Bitcoin purchases he''s made that were the exact same made by FuglyDuckling ¡ª her laughter died in her throat.


    "You''re serious? You really are him?" she had muttered.


    The world had suddenly seemed smaller in that second to Brooklyn. How could it be that one person was a spider that created the web that connected a lot of all her stories?


    How was it that he was FuglyDuckling? How was he now involved in almost every story she investigated?


    For Darren, he couldn''t lie, it stung that he had ended up telling Brooklyn before Sandy. Sandy deserved to hear it earlier way more.


    But at least, he got what he wanted.


    Rachel was safe.


    He and Brooklyn had walked out that night, even though the air had been cold, there was tension in the air. The glow of streetlights was in the far distance, the moon was in the sky and crickets chipped the night away.


    Together, they had burned the evidence on the Teschmacher Weapon Scandal and deleted the files from her computer, ensuring there was no turning back.


    Darren had watched her carefully as they did so. She had barely spoken, lips pressed into a firm line throughout all of it.


    He didn''t need to be told that there was a major shift inside of her. He could feel it. She had started seeing him in a completely different light, he could tell.


    Every now and then, he would catch her staring at him, not in her usual way of trying to unravel some enigma, but just like she was too awed not to stare.


    He noticed this more when he had told her about the Red Fang. The way she stiffened when he admitted it had been him who orchestrated the takedown. He had only given a vague explanation of how he did it¡ª enough to satisfy her curiosity without inciting more.


    Darren had told her not to include that part in the report, and she had only nodded, obediently, wordlessly accepting his request.


    This caused a random uneasy tension between them. And Darren wasn''t really sure if Brooklyn was really over it till now.


    If she wasn''t, then what was the deal?


    But speaking of Sandy...


    Darren sighed.


    He needed to apologize as quickly as possible. Making new friends and acquaintances was great, but it wasn''t worth it if he had to lose the one that was there for him from the beginning.


    He had to find a way to make it right with her, and he also had to tell her before everyone heard it.


    It wasn''t fair for her to find out at the same time as the rest of the world. She had been there for him before all of this, and he owed her that much.


    Maybe the timing wasn''t perfect. The way he had offered her the job before. But Darren knew he needed to bring her in. Not only would the company benefit from her financial management acumen, but he could also benefit with having her around.


    But, on a lighter note...


    His mother was finally coming back home that weekend, completely cured and cleared.


    That was a rare thought that brought him genuine warmth. He smiled, remembering the moment he got the confirmation a few days ago when he had gone to see her and Dr. Holloway.


    He had also sold two more medicinal cures to the doctor when he had gone to see her. And just two days ago, Holloway had officially released the Hepatitis C cure he had that long ago.


    Ever since then, his name had been plastered across news headlines. The world was finally waking up to his work, and his hospital had been receiving a lot of government funding since the country could benefit from selling the cure to other countries.


    Darren wondered what Dr. Richard Morrison thought about it? Did he ever imagine his college friend at Harvard would be the one to find the cure for Hepatitis C.


    He sighed. Speaking of the cures, even with the two he had sold, they had only brought in an additional $13 million for the renovation fund.


    Thankfully, the emergency investments in Apple and the Housing Market were steadily climbing, thanks to Rachel and Kara''s work. They had done a fantastic job, but Darren knew the profits wouldn''t arrive in time.


    That was why he had planned ahead.


    He didn''t really think that the investments would be done in time to fund the renovations.


    His real strategy was using the Elite Credit Status reward the system had granted him to secure the Helios Dome renovation on loan.


    But Darren also knows how strict the system was on loans and debt, that was why he had prepared these emergency investments to ensure he would have the funds to cover the debt before it was even due.


    Whatever cash remained ¡ª and he was sure it was plenty ¡ª he would put into the Bitcoin Investment funding.


    On the last day of this month, it would happen.


    Darren would throw his first ever party for the grand opening of the newly transformed Helios Dome, now officially renamed the Steele Complex.


    That, along with the official launch of Steele Investments, would mark the next stage of his vision and the completion of the Start of an Empire Quest.


    Darren exhaled slowly, leaning further back against the pool''s edge.


    It was funny, he had almost forgotten to enjoy the wealth he had accumulated. Since becoming a millionaire, all he had been doing was running from one project to the next, chasing objectives without ever truly stopping to revel in what he had built.


    Darren sunk deeper into the pool.


    Gladys arrived, carrying a silver tray with a fresh assortment of fruits and a glass of fine wine. She placed it beside him with practiced grace.


    Darren got out of the water and returned to the edge.


    "Thank you," he said, lifting the wine glass to his lips. The rich flavor coated his tongue as he let himself relax, just for a moment.


    Tomorrow, the world ¡ª or at least those who cared ¡ª would know the truth about FuglyDuckling.

 Chapter 98 98: Breaking News

    Despite the unforgiving sun, VERITE? magazine''s newest issue was the hottest thing in the city that morning.


    Everyone was talking about the multimillionaire, Gareth Smithers and his company, the Smithers Group.


    Pages and pages of VERITE? were swung to the side, all in search of the explosive expose? written by Brooklyn Baker, who everyone was even shocked to find out was no longer working with Business Everyday!


    The expose? read;


    THE MONSTER BEHIND THE CURTAIN: GARETH SMITHERS UNMASKED


    By Brooklyn Baker, VERITE? Magazine


    They say the devil doesn''t wear horns, but a suit and tie. This morning, that devil has a name: Gareth Smithers, CEO of the Smithers Group, a man who built his empire on the shattered dreams, stolen ideas, and crushed spirits of those who trusted him. A man whose legacy now drips with exploitation, deceit, and irredeemable corruption.


    For years, Gareth Smithers paraded himself as a visionary, a titan of industry shaping the future.


    In truth, he was nothing more than a parasite, preying on the brilliance of young, ambitious employees who dared to dream under his roof.


    Sources from within Smithers Group have revealed a chilling pattern of intellectual theft ¡ª young innovators, eager and full of promise, walked into the company with groundbreaking ideas, only to have them stripped away and repackaged under Smithers'' name.


    There were no settlements. No acknowledgments. No compensation. Just stolen futures. The few who dared to push back found themselves blacklisted, their careers suffocated before they could even take off. Lawsuits were whispered about but never filed, because who could stand up against a man with pockets that deep?


    ...


    The story went on. There was evidence with pictures showing similarities in financial calculations and others included in the expose.


    Brooklyn was brutal and unforgiving in her delivery of the message.


    She called Smithers a thief, a man who sabotages careers, and a slave trader ¡ª a name fitting fit a man who bound his employees with what could only be described as modern-day shackles branded as contracts.


    People read this with intrigue and horror in their faces. For many business men, pride was a currency. Self image was important.


    If one had built an empire, it was best to believe that it was built in their own hard work and ideas. Now that Gareth was being outed as non original and oppressive, the image of his company began to dwindle.


    Stocks were falling fast, customer approval ratings were low, many businessmen were worried that random people could sue them because the business ideas they used actually belonged to someone else and had been stolen!


    But the story didn''t end there. There was a final crime. The most unforgivable crime.


    As Brooklyn had put it; the crime that should send a shudder through every person reading this.


    Two women, both employees of Smithers Group, have come forward with allegations of sexual assault against Gareth Smithers. Their names remain withheld for their safety, but their accounts are damning.


    She went ahead to describe the manifesto from these women, their experiences in the hands of Gareth Smithers leading everyone to see that there was a pattern.


    These women, once silenced by fear, have now spoken. And their voices will not be ignored.


    The Smithers Group has yet to release a statement. Their silence is deafening.


    The question remains: How many more victims are out there? How many more dreams has Gareth Smithers stolen? How many more lives has he destroyed while the world applauded his so-called ''genius''?


    The truth is out now. I, Brooklyn Baker, will not look away. And neither should you.


    Stay tuned.


    Madness was in the business world of Los Alverez.


    There were attempts to try to silence it. Richard Morrison even sent a huge sum to Sophie that day, one was 20 million to stop sales of the issue, then the other was a 100 million to buy her entire magazine company.


    Tempting money. Very very tempting. But one look at her approval ratings and copies sold and Sophie knew that her dream was manifesting before her and she couldn''t sell out.


    She had hit 100,000 copies in one day! The photocopying team and the distribution team were working all their asses off.


    This was a positive sign for her.


    Yet, despite the uproar in the business community, television media and major newspapers remained eerily silent.


    Richard Morrison''s media influence cast a long shadow over that part since he had more control there. He suppressed coverage of the scandal in major news outlets, though more courageous ones continued to spread the news.


    And as it happened, VERITE? magazine continued to fly off shelves. Businessmen, investors, former employees, and curious readers devoured every page.


    Questions flooded boardrooms. Some of Smithers'' partners began to quietly withdraw their support, unwilling to be caught in the inevitable fallout.


    Television media, however, had found something else to focus on. On the very next page was Brooklyn Baker''s second big story;


    The Mystery Investor Unmasked: FuglyDuckling.


    Brooklyn hadn''t been as harsh as Darren expected. She said some objectively nice things about him, such as;


    ''...and here''s the kicker, he''s a survivor. A former intern at the notorious Smithers Group, Steele was one of the many young visionaries whose ideas were hijacked, stolen, and erased by Gareth Smithers.


    ... Darren Steele was actually the catalyst who began the revolution against Gareth Smithers when he successfully resigned and escaped the slave contracts that had bound them all.''


    For the vultures and cowards in the media outlets owned by Richard Morrison, this was news they could broadcast.


    They took Brooklyn''s story and shared it with their bigger audience on television.


    The new host of Business Everyday stood before the screen, announcing it to the world: "The record-breaking Bitcoin investor, known as FuglyDuckling, has been unmasked. And his name is Darren Steele."


    Reactions erupted across the city.


    "Who cares? That Bitcoin is a scam."


    "A Ponzi Scheme, I say!"


    "A 21-year-old kid? What does a kid know about investments?"


    "Hey, don''t I know that guy?"


    Meanwhile, in his private office, Gareth Smithers sat rigidly in his chair.


    He wasn''t yelling like his usual self. He had run out of voice, his throat was dry. Veins popped out all over his face and body, his eyes were as red as an evil ruby, bloodshot, and sweat beaded his forehead down to his neck.


    He barely moved, just watched as the news played on repeat, his mind spinning.


    He didn''t even have the strength to curse Darren Steele. All he could do was seethe in silence.


    Ring! A phone rang. Then another, and another and another. Multiple phones were ringing all over the building. Customers were demanding questions and the employees were panicking.


    Lily sat at her desk, staring at the television in shock. "Darren..." she whispered. He had always been obsessed with cryptocurrency. He had ranted about it, studied it, talked about its potential. But now, seeing his name flash across the screen...


    "So you actually did it."


    In the MWMO headquarters, Ryan Anders stomped through the corridors but stopped and watched the breaking news with Amelia.


    ''...made his first purchase at a mere $82,500, only to shatter records with an astronomical profit of $928,125. His second move? A staggering $1.5 million investment that now holds a current portfolio of 3,750,000 BTC. Whatever this Darren Steele sees in Bitcoin, surely normal people like us are blind to it.''


    Ryan exhaled sharply, and turned around. Amelia asked. "What do we do now?"


    Ryan''s jaw tightened. "We''ve lost our element of surprise," he muttered. "But I can still get him."


    Then he walked into his office.


    Across the city, in a pristine office filled with medical charts and research papers, Dr. Leonard Holloway barely paid attention to the television. He was reviewing patient files until a single word caught his ear¡ª "Duckling."


    His head snapped up. He turned to the screen just in time to see the face of Mr. Duckling himself.


    Darren Steele.


    The media dismissed him as a reckless investor, a young hotshot throwing millions into digital currency.


    Holloway grinned from ear to ear. "Darren Steele," he whispered proudly. "So that is the name of this enigma?"


    In her bedroom, Sandy hugged her pillow, watching the TV in stunned silence, the glow of the screen reflecting in her eyes.


    Her phone was clutched in her hand. And after trying hard not to glance down at it, she finally did, staring at the CryptoTracker notification she had received the night before.


    It was a friend request.


    ''FuglyDuckling wants to be friends.''


    She couldn''t believe it.


    Meanwhile, in the app itself, everyone was in a frenzy. The community of investors and crypto enthusiasts was in shock.


    "HE''S JUST A KID? WHAT THE HELL?!"


    "A 21-year-old spending millions? Damn, I need to step up my game."


    "Bitcoin is still a joke. Kid got lucky."


    "Nah, he was smart. Those investments were legendary."


    Many more comments lined up one after the other, filling Sandy''s screen and Andy Nashville''s as well.


    He was at Sagomoto Wealth Offices, watching the large television screen with his boss, Mr. Sagomoto, while his phone was in his hand.


    When the face of FuglyDuckling was displayed, Andy''s eyes widened.


    "I''ve seen that face before," he muttered. "I''ve met that man."


    Sagomoto barely glanced at him. "Are you lying to me to cover the fact that the media got to him before you did?"


    "No! No! I''m serious, sir!" Andy stammered. "I met him the day I went to settle the deal with Grant Hayes. He said he was interested in us. He said he''d call."


    Sagomoto stiffened. "So you are telling me that Darren Steele, the investor I was destined to manage, will call me?"


    Ring!


    The office fell silent. "Mhm?"


    Sagomoto and Andy exchanged looks before Sagomoto slowly reached for the phone. He cleared his throat and picked up.


    "Hello?"


    The calm and confident voice of Darren Steele came through. "Hello, Mr. Sagomoto."

 Chapter 99 99: Sagomoto Offices

    With the sweet chime of a machine, the elevator doors slid open, revealing the opulent interior of Sagomoto Wealth Offices.


    Floors that had been polished diligently gleamed under the warm lighting, and the scent of leather and aged paper filled the air.


    Darren stepped out of the way for Rachel to step out first, hands in his pockets. Rachel was in a black fitted office gown, her stiletto heels clicked against the floor as she held a contract folder against her chest.


    Darren followed, wearing a gray suit with black thin linings.


    They were greeted by Andy Nashville, who nearly tripped over himself as he rushed forward.


    "Mr. Steele! Welcome!"


    "Hey," Darren gave him a friendly smile. "Nashville. Good to see you. Clumsy as always."


    Andy chuckled nervously. "It''s good to see you too. I never actually thought you would come, and I never knew that you were actually FuglyDuckling. The same person I was looking for. I mean now I feel stupid looking back at it."


    Darren scoffed. "Don''t fault yourself. There was no way you would have known. And I was messing with you eh?"


    "Yeah. That''s true," Andy replied, then his eyes widened as he remembered that Rachel was there too. "And Miss Rachel¡ªpleasure to meet you too!"


    "Mm hm?" She lifted a cold brow.


    Andy tightened his lips. "Mr. Sagomoto is expecting you. Uh¡ªthis way!" He adjusted his round glasses before quickly leading them down the hall.


    Darren sideglanced at Rachel and said, "Lose the cold gaze, Rach. They''re going to be our allies, you don''t want to scare them off."


    "Yes, sir. But we have to let them know we mean business." Her sharp gaze flicked over Andy, dissecting every movement you made. "I don''t particularly trust people who are too eager."


    "Hmm," Darren shrugged. "Someone once told me that desperate people are the easiest to manipulate."


    Once they got inside the grand office, they were introduced to the wealth manager known as Mr. Sagomoto.


    He stood waiting by his chair, which showed just how eager he was.


    In Darren''s opinion, a man his age shouldn''t be standing as much. Mr. Kaito Sagomoto had a big round head, and a kind, wise face, weathered by time, with an amicable smile resting on it.


    He was unbent, with a gray mustache, and silver hair combed nearly at the sides of his head, while the center glistened bald. His suit was dark blue and made of a shiny material that actually caught Darren''s eye.


    As Darren approached him, he used the time to ask for an Insight Protocol.


    ---------------------------


    Ding!


    ©³Insight Protocol Complete: Information on Sagomoto Wealth Offices is as follows©¿


    ©³Estimated Net Worth: $2.1 billion©¿


    ©³Primary Income: High-net-worth financial management, investment banking, corporate advisory, wealth preservation services©¿


    ©³Owner: Kaito Sagomoto©¿


    ©³Known for: Diverse clientele, loyalty, aggressive investment strategies, high-risk/high-reward financial structuring, unparalleled market insight©¿


    ©³Public Reception: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Tactics: Allows for wide range of clientele regardless of status, prioritizes client''s earnings over theirs, leverages insider market trends, utilizes complex financial instruments, specializes in turning struggling companies into profitable assets©¿


    ©³System''s Advice: A powerful, loyal but volatile ally. Sagomoto''s admiration for you is an advantage, but his ambition makes him unpredictable. Keep him close, but never let your guard down.©¿


    ---------------------------


    "Ah, Mr. Darren Steele!" Sagomoto broke Darren''s thoughts. "The faceless investor himself. An unfortunate title for such a handsome face."


    Darren almost blushed. "Well, he''s a smooth talker."


    "Fate, it seems, has brought us together," Sagomoto said, opening his arms as if welcoming an old friend. "I have been looking forward to this moment."


    Darren extended a firm handshake. "Mr. Sagomoto."


    Rachel, glancing between the two of them as they shook hands for what seemed like an eternity, straightened her posture as she said, "Shall we get started?"


    Sagomoto chuckled. "Straight to business. It is no problem, I do admire efficiency. Please, sit."


    They settled into their seats around the long table, and the discussion began.


    "Sagomoto Wealth Management specializes in handling assets, investments, and crisis management for our clients," Sagomoto began, steepling his fingers. "We build companies from dust to dynasties. We can point to the Sinclairs who began their empire with us. The Reynolds and the Dawn Group."


    "The Sinclairs?" Rachel interjected. "The Sinclairs do not work with you anymore though."


    Sagomoto chuckled, lowering his face. "Indeed. It is natural for some companies to leave in search for things that our management offices refuse to offer."


    "That is a dig at MWMO, is it not?"


    Darren sighed internally. ''Rachel is just everyone''s nightmare, isn''t she?''


    "Well, apart from healthy rivalry, I don''t have anything against the MWMO, Miss Rachel. But I will say that they are more... flexible when it comes to ethics. We are Sagomoto Wealth Offices, we are intense, we are relentless and driven, but we know where the line is."


    Sagomoto leaned in, his voice like a friendly grandfather rather than a businessman. "To testify to our abilities, we presently have very powerful companies like the Zurich Groups and the Nelsons. Our relationship is healthy and approval ratings are above 90%. We ensure protection, growth, and most importantly ¡ª secrecy."


    Rachel nodded, but she still didn''t look very impressed. She''d been to many of these deal meetings, and because people are trying to sell themselves, they obviously wouldn''t highlight any unfavorable part of themselves.


    However, that wasn''t necessary. What was necessary was that the favorable part they highlighted was impressive enough to come to a deal.


    So she asked, "What makes you think you''re the right firm for Mr. Steele? You''re not the only wealth management company in the world. Not even in the state. Or the city."


    Sagomoto leaned forward, smiling. "Because I am driven by what he''s trying to do," he whispered like it was a secret. "We are not just a firm, Miss Rachel. I''ve seen many investors come and go, I''m old enough for you to believe that''s true. They all ask the same question;


    "Is it safe? Is it sure? I don''t want to lose any money? Is profit guaranteed?"


    "They all just want the most certain deal to get out as quickly as they can and make an assured profit. It is boring."


    He sat back. "Very soon I''ll be stepping down from my seat. And do you know what I want? I want to guide the man who invested 2 million dollars on a risky, beyond certain, and untrusted digital asset simply because he felt like it. Simply because he believed in the asset and his judgement."


    Rachel sat still and listened. Darren was the same.


    "Mr. Steele requires discretion, power, and most importantly, people who understand vision. This is not just about managing money¡ª it''s about shaping legacies."


    Darren tilted his head slightly. "And you believe you can shape mine?"


    Sagomoto''s grin widened. "I believe you have already shaped it. We merely ensure no one breaks it."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being honest with you©¿


    Andy, trying to be helpful, shuffled through some papers. "A-And we also have an in-house legal team ready to defend you in case of¡ªuh¡ªlawsuits. Highly experienced. We can provide you with a list of the top legal representatives available."


    "You don''t need to say anything more," Darren opened his palm, stopping Rachel from speaking. "I accept."


    Sagomoto''s eyes gleamed with joy. "Outstanding. It is so outstanding."


    Rachel said nothing but took the document from Andy, scanning the names.


    "Bitcoin," Sagomoto suddenly said, turning his attention to Darren. "I must ask. Many investors and businessmen are overlooking the cryptocurrency, the government and the media are against it. Why Bitcoin?"


    Darren leaned back, fingers tapping against the armrest. "I guess I see something that they don''t. Maybe I''m crazy, but everyone''s crazy until they do what they said they''re going to do."


    Sagomoto studied him for a long moment before laughing softly. "A cryptic answer for a cryptic man. I like it."


    Rachel, meanwhile, reached the bottom of the list and froze. Her sharp eyes darted to Darren, then back to the name: Jonathan Vance.


    She knew Darren well enough to understand what this meant.


    "This one," Darren said, tapping the page. "Jonathan Vance."


    Jonathan Vance was the lawyer that had changed the contract for Darren to escape Gareth''s grasp. Gareth must have fired him, meaning he was no longer contracted by MWMO and was now available for Sagomoto Offices to contract.


    Andy blinked. "Oh! Yes. We might not have the strongest relationship with Jonathan Vance. But he is very willing to work with us. He''s excellent. Since they''re under the same chambers, your legal counselor will then be..." He checked the paper. "...oh... Daisy Chen."


    Sagomoto looked down at the paper, his face becoming serious and dark.


    Everyone was silent instantly.


    Darren frowned. "Is there an issue?"


    Andy looked at his boss, who then slowly shook his head. "No. None at all. If all is fine, maybe we can move on to contract signing."


    Rachel made no comment, only locking eyes with Darren. He gave her a slight, knowing shrug.


    After signing the contract, and Darren''s system analyzing and approving it, they were finished.


    Sagomoto stood and extended a hand. "It is an honor to have you with us, Darren Steele. You will not regret this decision."


    Darren shook his hand. "See to it that I don''t."


    As they left, Rachel murmured, "Picking Vance... He betrayed his former client. Don''t you think that''s a bad look, sir? Loyalty is important."


    Darren downturned his lips in agreement. "True. But I want to begin with the devil I know. Angels are the only ones capable of betrayal after all."


    Ding!


    A notification flashed in Darren''s interface.


    -------------------------------------------


    ©³Congratulations!©¿


    ©³You have secured a Business Ally.©¿


    ©³Ally: Kaito Sagomoto


    Company: Sagomoto Wealth Offices


    Rank: B+


    Information: This Ally is incredibly strong and important to your growth. Mr. Sagomoto is the kind of Ally that will protect whatever you own and defend you against rival companies. There are zero chances of betrayal.©¿


    ©³Loyalty: 10/10©¿


    -------------------------------------------


    ''That''s good to know.''


    They arrived at Vance Law Firm some minutes after, and as they climbed up the building''s stairs, Rachel spoke again.


    "Daisy Chen. I remember now why Sagomoto had acted like that when her name was mentioned."


    "Why?" Darren asked with narrowed eyes.


    "Because she''s his daughter. Daisy Sagomoto-Chen. She and her father aren''t in the best of relationships. She took her mother''s name and joined the rival company. Now she''s free to be contracted, I guess Sagomoto was just realizing that he could work with his daughter once again. Perhaps even see her after so long."


    Darren pursed his lips. "I see."


    The front door suddenly opened and Jonathan Vance met them outside.


    He smiled instantly at the sight of Darren and extended a hand, "Mr. Steele. We''ve met before. But allow me to introduce myself in a more business like manner since we''re going to be partners now. I''m Attorney Jonathan Vance, and this¡ª" he gestured to a composed, poised woman beside him "¡ªis Attorney Daisy Chen, your legal counselor."


    Darren shook her hand, and their eyes instantly locked with each other, and it stayed that way for a while as they gazed at their faces.


    Ding!


    ©³This person is curious of you©¿


    ''As I am of her,'' Darren thought.


    Rachel folded her arms. "Shall we?"


    Darren and Daisy broke the handshake. "Yes. Of course."


    And together, they stepped into the building, securing the law aspects of Darren Steele''s empire.

 Chapter 100: Settlement

    Knock! Knock!


    Knuckles of a masculine first rapped against a grand office door with a brass nameplate reading Gareth Smithers.


    Inside the office, there was a tense silence that lingered before Gareth gave a curt nod to his new secretary, signaling her to open the door.


    The moment it swung open, Jonathan Vance strode in with his usual swagger, Daisy Chen at his side, carrying an air of quiet intensity.


    Jonathan scanned the room, smirking. "Wow," he said, feigning astonishment, "feels like a state funeral in here."


    Seated before them were Gareth Smithers, sat by his table, his daughter Lily, keeping her distance by the shelf and his newly appointed lawyer, Lacey Vane.


    Seeing Jonathan, Gareth''s expression tightened into a scowl, "You disgusting sellout."


    Jonathan chuckled. "Now let''s keep it formal here, Mr. Smithers. I might be a sellout, but at least I''m not a thief or a ra¡ª Well, you know the word."


    Gareth turned red with rage. Lily glanced down, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. Lacey, calm and composed, met Jonathan''s gaze with measured steel.


    "That will be enough," she said. "Please go ahead. We agreed to have this meeting."


    "Yes, Mrs. Vane. We did."


    Jonathan, ever the showman, tapped his files against his palm before introducing himself. "As you know, I am Jonathan Vance and as of yesterday, I am now the legal representative of Darren Steele, Steele Investments, and his employees. And beside me here," he gestured to Daisy, "is Daisy Chen, his legal counselor."


    Daisy stepped forward with a voice so tiny yet as sharp and firm as a woman''s voice could be. "Our job is to ensure our client''s business interests are fully protected ¡ª legally and financially. That includes cases of intellectual property theft, contract violations, and any litigation that threatens his company."


    Gareth''s jaw twitched as he clenched his fists on the table. His narrowed eyes followed their every movement, seething.


    When Gareth''s secretary offered a chair, Jonathan waved off the offer. "No need. This will be quick." He handed a stack of files to Daisy, who methodically distributed them. The room grew eerily silent as Gareth and his lawyer examined the contents.


    On the crisp pages were undeniable pieces of evidence¡ª images of Darren Steele''s original business concepts, the very blueprints that had fueled companies to massive profits. Concepts that Gareth had passed off as his own.


    Gareth''s fingers twitched as he turned the pages. His lips pressed into a thin line, the color draining from his face.


    Lily, beside him, wore a guilty frown, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve. Across from them, Lacey Vane remained impassive, her eyes scanning the documents with a calculating sharpness.


    Jonathan leaned in slightly. "From the VERITE? magazine release yesterday, we all know your shtick. But no one really knows yet how far you went with it, do they?"


    "You had this tactic, Gareth. You would demand the idea drafts from employees as well, to make sure they can''t lay claim to the idea itself of course. But my client? He kept drafts of drafts. And by your reaction I can tell that you had no idea." He scoffed. "Do you see what''s happening now?"


    He gestured toward the files. "Your company was paid to supply original investment strategies. Imagine what happens when those companies discover their investments were built on stolen ideas? That means they sue you. My client, naturally, sues them, and also sure you. That''s two lawsuits against you for every stolen idea. And once word gets out, don''t be surprised when more employees you''ve stolen from start piling onto the lawsuits."


    Gareth''s lips parted, a protest forming, but Jonathan was already a step ahead. "But I''m not finished. Now, let''s talk law. Willful infringement of non copyrighted creations, especially for commercial gain? It could be debated, but that''s criminal. Fraudulent deception for financial benefit? That''s certainly fraud. And in the United States, major theft and intentional sale of properties which was not as the buyer demanded? Oh, that''s prison time, Gareth. Up to ten years, if we feel particularly vengeful."


    Jonathan''s grin widened as he added, "To put it simply; your company is as good as dead. Not even Mooney money will save you this time."


    Gareth rubbed his temple furiously, and rested his head on his hands, his pupils constricting. Lacey had told him to stay calm to avoid any of this becoming worse than it already was, but the weight of impending disaster pressed down on him heavily and all he wanted to do was scream.


    Lily swallowed hard, her knuckles white as she clutched the file. Lacey''s gaze remained unreadable, but even she subtly shifted in her seat.


    Daisy stepped forward then, her tone clinical. "Your company''s worth currently sits at $860 million. But in the last few days, your stock value has plummeted. This month, your projected profits have already turned near negative due to the revelations Brooklyn Baker released. And that''s only the tip of the iceberg. Mr. Steele is prepared to bury you under everything."


    "And let us not forget that image on the final file. You never thought that you would be caught, but when you see that picture, I''m sure you''ll know who took it."


    Gareth turned the page and instantly slammed it shut after. He exhaled heavily, shoulders sagging, eyes wide. His voice, hoarse with anger and fear, was barely above a whisper. "What do you want?"


    Jonathan''s smirk grew. "Ah. Now we''re talking." He snapped his fingers and Daisy slid another document across the table. "For starters: $7 million each will be given to the two women you sexually assaulted. $250,000 per plagiarized employee, and there were twenty of them, by the way. And a $20 million settlement fee to Darren Steele."


    Gareth''s face turned red. "You smug¡ª"


    Lacey gave him a look, a silent warning. Gareth saw it and inhaled sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring, but remained silent.


    "And also one more thing." Jonathan''s eyes darkened. "My client wants you to let Rachel go. He knows why she was given to you to look after. He says you''ve failed at it, and he''s going to take over. Rachel Teschmacher will be safe in my client''s hands. Come for her, and everything... everything will be released."


    Gareth''s heart sank. ''What''s going on here? Does he really know about everything?''


    Jonathan leaned in. "You can take your time, but not too much. My client plans to file the lawsuit tonight. I wanted to file it immediately, but what can I say? He''s an understanding guy."


    Lacey and Gareth exchanged a glance. Lily''s silent plea echoed in her mind; ''Dad, please just sign it.''


    Lacey inhaled deeply before nodding. "Right now, we need to focus on damage control. We should move to settle."


    Gareth''s lips curled into a grimace, but he knew he was beaten. He snatched a pen and, with barely restrained rage, signed the papers alongside Lacey. Jonathan scanned them, nodded approvingly, then grinned.


    "Pleasure doing business. Not with you, Gareth, but with business itself." He turned on his heel. "Come now, Daisy, let''s go."


    As soon as they exited, Gareth could finally erupt. With a burst of anger and a yell, he grabbed his mug and flung it at the door.


    The door swung open at that exact moment, and Ryan Anders caught the mug midair, unfazed. His eyes swept over the room before he sighed and shook his head.


    "You already signed it, didn''t you?"


    Gareth let out a frustrated grunt. "They left me no choice."


    Ryan exhaled sharply. "What kind of idiot signs a settlement without consulting his Wealth Management Office?" He muttered, shaking his head before pulling out his phone. Amelia''s name appeared on the screen.


    "Sir?" Amelia''s voice came through. "I just left Greenbaby now. He''s not there, so I''m checking his house in Malegreen."


    Ryan rubbed his temple. "Don''t bother. Come back to the office."


    "But¡ª"


    He cut the line.


    Amelia frowned at the phone, thoughtful. ''Come back to the office.''


    Her heart began to beat hard. She had really wanted to speak to Darren Steele today. To see him at least. She remembered that offer he had made her in his car.


    Amelia closed her eyes.


    After a moment''s hesitation, she made a decision. Instead of returning, she drove on.


    Soon, she arrived at Malegreen Street. Pulling up to Darren Steele''s house, she stepped out and knocked on the door.


    When it opened, it wasn''t Darren at the door but a woman.


    Rachel Teschmacher stood before her.

 Chapter 101: Completed Goal

    Ring! Ring!


    Jonathan called Darren''s phone. "It''s done, Mr. Steele. He''s signed it."


    "Good," Darren nodded. "Well done, Mr. Vance. I knew I could trust your coercion."


    "So what do we do now? Do we really discard the evidence?"


    "Of course not," Darren said plainly. "Prep them for another media release. Then start creating the case for the first lawsuit. Gareth Smithers''s company is going to crumble. Ironic that it will crumble the same way it rose; using a dodgy contract."


    Vance smiled.


    ------


    Darren was the owner of this illustrious dome, so he had all the right to saunter around with the swag that only the one who owned the building could have.


    The old building loomed over his head, the glass and iron walls that had been dulled by time were being replaced. As the men walked, they kept glancing at the young man who owned the place.


    ''That kid is the one who bought this building?''


    ''Yeah. Read about him in the papers. Dude discovered some magic money in that stuff called the internet and decided to buy it. Made him a lotta cash.''


    ''Lucky fucker.''


    The vast interior of the dome was a mixture of dust-covered floors and scattered construction materials, remnants of past attempts at renovation.


    Darren now stood in the middle of it all, hands in his pockets, his sharp gaze surveying the structure.


    ''I told Rachel to stay back at Malegreen,'' Darren thought as he stood before the contractor. ''Gladys is making the mansion ready for my mother. I want her to come back to something... fitting. Gosh, it''s all I can actually even think about.''


    The contractor, a burly man named Collins, nodded, flipping through a folder of estimates. "I''m telling you, Mr. Steele, you''re giving yourself unnecessary expenses here. A full renovation will only run you about a hundred million. Give us three months, and we''ll have it pristine."


    Darren''s fingers tapped against his thigh, his face was solid, showing he had already made his mind long ago.


    Three months was too long. Way too long. His vision ¡ª the Bitcoin empire ¡ª was clawing at him, making him restless. He wanted to get started right away. To start applying his ideas into strategies that will turn Bitcoin to his personal money making machine.


    Every second wasted was an opportunity slipping through his fingers.


    "I need it faster," Darren said. "You have increased pace as I asked but what''s the cost if I want it done in the remaining weeks?"


    Collins frowned. "That''s barely three weeks. It''s a tall order. You''d be looking at five hundred million, minimum. And that''s not even considering if you qualify for a loan of that size."


    Darren watched him. "You don''t have to worry about that. I qualify."


    Collins exchanged a look with his colleague. "With all due respect, Mr. Steele, even some of the wealthiest clients don''t get half a billion approved in a snap. The credit requirements alone are mostly unattainable."


    Darren sighed. "Just apply for the loan, put in my name and see what it says."


    Collins looked at his colleague again and shrugged. "Whatever you say."


    They put in his name, and ran it through the loan approving system.


    At that moment, Darren immediately activated the reward.


    Ding!


    ©³Elite Credit Status Activated©¿


    Inside the financial institution''s secure servers, unseen forces moved. Darren''s profile was rewritten in an instant:


    His credit score skyrocketed, surpassing even the wealthiest investors.


    His financial records were updated, listing assets and repayment histories so pristine that banks would fight to offer him loans.


    The bank''s AI algorithms flagged him as an ultra-prestigious VIP, ensuring every door opened without question.


    A fabricated approval memo from the highest executives was planted into the system.


    In real-time, Collins''s computer dinged, showing that this was an elite client. He frowned and narrowed his eyes to read it again. His eyes widened. "You... you''re approved?"


    His assistant, who had been refreshing the system out of curiosity, gasped. "Sir, the bank just cleared the full five hundred million. No questions asked."


    Silence stretched. Then, Collins let out a stunned laugh. "Well, I don''t know who the hell you are, Mr. Steele, but consider it done."


    Darren signed the contract with a firm stroke. "Two weeks. Speed doesn''t mean sloppy work. The Steele Complex should be perfect."


    ---


    With business settled, Darren drove to Holloway Medicals. His Aston Martin One-77 glided into the parking lot, drawing a few admiring stares.


    Ignoring everyone, he took the large bouquet of roses with him inside with excitement, he had more than one mission here today.


    Inside, the atmosphere was alive with movement. Nurses bustled past, patients waited, but there was an unmistakable buzz in the air. Darren approached the reception. "I have a meeting with Dr. Holloway."


    Recognizing him, the receptionist nodded quickly. "Mr. Steele, yes. He''s expecting you."


    In Holloway''s office, the doctor greeted him with a handshake, and on his face was a smile he couldn''t chase away. "Your visits are the highlights of my day, Mr. Steele."


    Darren grinned. "That''s something coming from a doctor." He sat. "And you call me by my name now. The receptionist also recognized me."


    Holloway chuckled, settling behind his desk. "You''ve seen how many people are outside this hospital right now? Hundreds. I''ve got the president''s number now. Sponsorships. Deals. You''ve changed the game for me."


    Darren gave a small smile. "Then let''s make it official. This hospital has been good to me and my mother. We''ve worked as fine allies even with the makeshift contract we made. Let us sign a legit one now. Did you go through it?"


    He pulled out the new contract, far more refined than the rushed agreement they had before. Holloway reviewed it, nodding slowly. "Yes I did. This... this is more than fair. We''ll become the leading facility for treatment using your research. An increase in the cure prices, 40%. Considering everything, that is fair too. I would a hundred percent love to be business partners with Steele Investments."


    Darren signed, then slid the pen over. Holloway signed with a firm stroke. "Welcome to the team, partner."


    Ding!


    ©³Ally loyalty has increased to 9/10!©¿


    ---


    With the business handled, Darren turned his attention to the real reason he came: his mother.


    In the private ward, Pamela Steele sat by the window, her gaze soft. But she wasn''t the frail woman she had been weeks ago. She was whole. The aortic disease that once drained her life had vanished, thanks to the surgeries Darren had paid for.


    Darren carefully opened the room, a nervous smile on his face.


    Hearing the door''s hinges, Pamela turned around and once she saw him, she smiled. "Darren."


    He moved forward, wrapping her in a hug, holding her close. "Mom."


    Her fingers tightened on his back. "Oh. Look at you. I''m going to smear your suit with my tears."


    "It doesn''t matter, Mom," Darren said. "It''s just a suit. I''m happy you''re back. You''re healthy."


    He pulled away and looked at her tear-stricken face. "I did it. I saved you."


    The hospital staff gathered in quiet celebration. The nurses who had watched Pamela fight for her life now smiled warmly. Some even clapped softly. It was a rare, genuine moment of triumph.


    After goodbyes from the nurses who had taken care of them, they stepped outside, fresh air filling their lungs, Darren''s phone buzzed.


    "Ah!" Pamela spoke excitedly. "What was that I saw about you on the news yesterday?"


    Darren smiled. "Uh Mom. It''s a long story."


    She pursed her lips. "Well you can start by telling me how you got this car."


    He chuckled.


    Ding!


    ©³Pamela Steele has been saved©¿


    ©³1/3 Goals have been completed©¿


    ©³Your beginner''s journey is reaching its end©¿

 Chapter 102 102: Join the Team

    "This oddly feels familiar. Kind of like deja vu, except I was the one at the door." Rachel gave Amelia Forrest a long scrutinizing gaze. "You''re here to see Darren, aren''t you?"


    Amelia, usually collected, felt slightly nervous in front of the more composed and colder Rachel Teschmacher. She moved her legs to reposition her stance before saying, "Yes."


    Rachel lifted her brow. "Let me guess, Ryan Anders sent you. He''s either trying to settle, but I would say he''s most likely to offer a deal that could mend the rough start and create an allegiance of sorts between him and Mr. Steele. He''s sent threats, hasn''t he? Things he plans to do if Darren doesn''t settle and back off. And in these threats, he''s also offered Darren a partnership, one that he says could protect Darren as long as he''s his client."


    Amelia frowned, clearly taken aback. "How did you know?"


    Rachel gave an uninterested hiss. "These billionaire CEO''s all talk the same, especially when they become infatuated by their money and power. It''s all they rely on when they need something done. Leaves them blind sometimes to other channels of control."


    Amelia seemed curious. "Intelligence?"


    Rachel looked at her blankly but didn''t answer. She eyed the yellow file in her hand. "Let me see it. The offer."


    Amelia pulled away slightly. "Mr. Anders wanted it to be given strictly to Mr. Darren Steele."


    Rachel lifted an insulted brow. "And you''re speaking to his secretary. Now, let me have it."


    She snapped the file from Amelia''s hand and after giving her a cold glare, she began to go through it. "Tch. So I was right then. I was... very right. Hold on, is your boss really threatening supply chain manipulation and asset distribution blockage."


    Rachel laughed. Short and mocking. "He doesn''t even know what our assets are."


    She read more. "Economic blacklisting, regulatory changes. Funny how many of these aren''t even legal. I had no idea Ryan Anders was such a bully." She looked up and saw the uncertain, anxious look on Amelia''s face.


    "And you... you have got yourself in the middle of it, haven''t you?"


    Amelia''s eyes glistened and quivered. Her voice dropped to a frightened whisper when she spoke. "I just need to talk to Darren Steele. Please."


    Rachel saw the expression, the frantic look of desperation and search for freedom in Amelia''s face. She recognized it.


    "Didn''t he help you?" Amelia continued, anxious. "He took you away from Gareth Smithers, didn''t he?"


    Rachel''s expression remained bland. "Yes, he did." She sighed. "Well, Mr. Steele isn''t here. He''s finalizing a deal for our headquarters and finishing up with some personal stuff. I''m here on an errand to help with that."


    She noticed Amelia slump her shoulders as her face fell in disappointment.


    "But..." she spoke again. "I don''t think it''s a coincidence that I''m the one you met today. You graduated from Columbus, didn''t you?"


    Amelia replied curiously, "Yes."


    "Good. Then you''ll be useful. Come in."


    ----


    They entered the living room of Darren''s old house. Everywhere was quiet, but once they took their seat, the rhythmic tapping of Rachel''s manicured nails against the wooden tabletop became the noise of the occasion.


    Amelia sat on the couch across from her, hands folded in her lap, her expression composed but attentive.


    The dim lighting of the lounge area softened the sharp edges of Rachel''s gaze, but Amelia could still feel the weight of it pressing down on her like an interrogation light.


    Rachel took a sip of her espresso, setting the cup down with deliberate care before finally speaking. "You can''t be nervous, right? Working for Ryan Anders, you''ve certainly been in many high profile situations."


    Amelia shook her head. "Not really. They were always so secretive. I was more of an errand girl than an assistant or a secretary."


    "I see," Rachel smacked her lips. "And you''ve worked under Ryan Anders for how long now?"


    "Two years," Amelia replied, her voice even. "I started as a basic assistant and worked my way up to executive secretary."


    Rachel nodded, unimpressed. "And your qualifications?"


    "Bachelor''s in Business Administration, minor in Finance. When I graduated from Columbus University, I was at the very top of my class. I won the Young Financial Leader Award in 2007, the Wall Street Excellence Recognition the next year, and I was in this year''s Fortune 40 Under 40."


    A flicker of approval crossed Rachel''s features, but she didn''t let it linger. "That''s all well and good, but degrees and awards mean nothing if you can''t perform under pressure. Mr. Steele''s company is only starting, it has to be perfect and that entails there will be a great amount of pressure. So tell me, can you work under pressure?"


    Amelia tilted her head slightly. She had not even expected that she would be getting interviewed today for a job in the company of a man that she barely knew. But in the case of Ryan Anders, she knew she couldn''t stay there anymore. He was a ticking time bomb.


    "I''ve been working for one of the most volatile businessmen in the city for the past two years. I''d say that speaks for itself."


    Rachel half-smirked. "Good answer." She leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "You don''t seem very comfortable, Amelia. In fact you appear to be uncertain."


    Amelia gave a nervous nod. "You want to poach me. And I don''t... I don''t even know what I''m doing. I''m just running rampantly. I''m not even sure why I came here when my boss asked me to forget about it and return."


    Rachel lifted a brow at that statement. Then she sighed, adjusting herself. "Poach is such an aggressive word. I''d call it giving you an opportunity to escape a sinking ship. Listen, if you don''t want to be there, there''s a reason. Don''t let it happen first before you know it''s time to leave, trust me."


    Amelia gazed at her, breathing slowly. "Yes, you''re right."


    Rachel studied her intently. "Anders is a depraved man, I know. He hasn''t done anything to you, has he?"


    "No." Amelia shook her head, but her fingers curled slightly in her lap. "But I can tell he will. He''s testing me, seeing how much I''ll tolerate. I''ve seen him do it before. The moment he senses disloyalty, he becomes...vindictive."


    Hmm.


    They spoke more on Amelia''s abilities and skills, including what she could offer to Darren''s company and its growth.


    Soon, Rachel came to a conclusion. "So, when it comes to you resigning, will there be any issues?"


    Amelia shook her head thoughtfully. "Most likely. Mr. Anders is an egotistical man. If he even sees I''m leaving, he''ll try to make my life hell."


    Rachel didn''t seem fazed. "If Mr. Steele finds you useful for his company, he''ll send men to escort you to resign. That should handle any problems Anders might create."


    Amelia blinked at that, though still nervous. "Okay."


    This was a scary decision for her.


    Rachel finished her scrutiny of her and sighed. "I''d like to see you join the team. I''m very confident in what Mr. Steele is building and I will put everything I have to make sure it''s successful."


    Amelia listened attentively.


    "I think you''ll be a good addition," Rachel said, getting on her feet. "But Mr. Steele is my boss. He makes the final say."


    "Speaking of him, I wonder what he''s doing now..."


    There was another knock on the door. Rachel frowned and glanced at Amelia, who was also frowning.


    "Stay here," she said to her and walked to the door. She peeked through, her eye widened and she quickly opened the door.


    "Sandy?"


    Sandy Meyers looked startled at the sight of Gareth Smithers''s former secretary opening the door. "Rachel?"


    At first, she was smiling, but then Rachel realized. "You want to see Darren?" she asked.


    Sandy nodded.

 Chapter 103 103: Reunion Rescheduled

    The Steele Mansion was alive with warmth and laughter.


    Pamela Steele sat on the plush sofa in the grand living room, her eyes sweeping over the lavish decor of her son''s new home.


    After being released from the hospital Pamela had expected to be going back to Malegreen Street, but Darren had taken a route she''d never seen before and into the most beautiful street she had ever seen.


    Then he arrived at this... this mansion. At first, she had thought that Darren was joking. But he led her right into the building and introduced her to his housekeeper, Gladys.


    This house. This mansion. It was her son''s mansion.


    The sheer grandeur of it all was overwhelming, but she decided she wouldn''t bombard Darren with questions just yet. He had spent weeks worrying about her; it was only fair that she spent time with him without making him explain himself.


    "So, how does it feel?" Pamela asked, leaning back and stretching her legs on the ottoman. "Your own place, this massive house¡ª sorry, mansion."


    Darren smirked, handing her a plate with a sandwich and some freshly squeezed orange juice. "Feels good, honestly. But it feels better having you here."


    Pamela took a bite, humming in satisfaction. "Mm, this is good. You always knew how to pick the right things."


    Darren chuckled. "I just have good taste."


    Pamela glanced at him with a knowing look. "And apparently money."


    "That too."


    She looked at him for a long while and then let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I''m not going to ask you where you got all this. Not tonight. I just want to enjoy my time with you, my little Dare Bear."


    "Mom. I''m a grown man. Dare Bear was when I was twelve years old."


    Pamela pouted, pushing her graying blonde hair aside. "But that''s always what I''m going to see you as. No matter how old you get, how cool you become, or how much money you make. You''ll always be Dare Bear."


    Darren stood up and gave her a look. "No."


    She grinned. "Dare Bear?"


    "Mom. No."


    Her hands stretched out to tickle him. "Dare Bear!"


    Darren yelped in uncontrollable laughter. "Get your hands off me, woman! I''m no child! I''m the owner of a company for Christ''s sake!"


    For the next hour, all they did was play and spend time together. Darren gave her a mini-tour of the first floor, pointing out the grand dining hall, the state-of-the-art kitchen, and the entertainment room filled with everything from a pool table to a massive theater screen.


    They played a few rounds of pool, with Pamela unexpectedly winning the first game, much to Darren''s surprise.


    "Beginner''s luck," she teased, setting her cue aside.


    "Sure," Darren replied, narrowing his eyes playfully. "One more round?"


    "I don''t think that''s going to happen, Dare Bear. You''ve fed me with way too much, and now I''m full and getting sleepy. That soft bed upstairs has been calling my name."


    Darren laughed. "Go ahead, Mom. Rest up. You deserve it."


    Pamela kissed his forehead before making her way upstairs. Darren watched her go, a warm feeling in his chest. This was what he had worked for. To see his mother happy, free from pain, and enjoying the life a sickness had stolen from her before.


    With a satisfied sigh, he sank onto the couch, pulling out his phone. As he did so, the Investor System''s interface appeared in front of him, it was time to check on the company''s progress.


    Rachel and Kara had been working tirelessly on recruitment, and it showed. The Phase for Hiring (Phase 3) was now at 97%. Nearly complete. He scanned through the finalized positions:


    ©³Head of Research & Analytics: Simon Wilkes, an expert in blockchain technology with a history in investment analysis.


    Lead Portfolio Manager: Miranda Sloane, formerly with one of the top hedge funds, Dawn Group, specialized in high-yield crypto investments.


    Trading Strategists: Three individuals with deep knowledge of market trends, risk assessment, and high-frequency trading.


    Security & Compliance Officers: Cybersecurity experts ensuring foolproof protection of the firm''s assets and compliance with regulations.


    Client Relations Team: A dedicated group to handle investor concerns, led by a seasoned financial consultant, Edward Blane.


    IT Computer Technicians: A total of 30 computer wizards who are to be involved in a highly important operation to increase Bitcoin profit.©¿


    When it came to the legal aspects, Jonathan Vance and Daisy Chen had also wrapped that part up, ensuring the company was structured perfectly for long-term growth. Darren''s next focus was finding an event organizer to plan the company''s launch.


    As he pondered his next move, his phone buzzed.


    A notification from Facebook.


    Facebook? He thought. He''d barely even used that social media. At this time, Facebook was the top most popular social media app. MySpace was still hanging on, Twitter was explosive and Instagram had just started.


    Ever since regressing, the only app Darren had ever focused on was the CryptoTracker app that wasn''t even anywhere near mainstream.


    What notification could he be getting from Facebook?


    He selected the message and was taken to a screen where he saw this:


    You were added to the group ''BROOKFIELD GRADUATING CLASS 2007/2008'' by Alison Parker.


    Darren frowned. Wait... there was a class group? And I wasn''t in it?


    He clicked into the group chat.


    James Winston: "Hey, so Darren is here now."


    Alison Parker: "Hey, Darren!"


    Darren didn''t reply. Instead, he went straight to the group info. It had been active for about a year, but activity had picked up lately. They were planning the reunion.


    It was supposed to come at the end of this month, but it seemed they had rescheduled it to October 15.


    The reason? Tyler Mooney. He was still abroad, finishing some business deals for his father, and since he was supposed to be the ''MVP'' of the occasion, they pushed the date for him.


    Darren''s jaw tightened. Tyler Mooney. Images flashed in his head before he shut them off immediately, refusing not to think of him.


    Ding.


    ©³You have earned a Character Bonus©¿


    His fingers hovered over the buttons before he scrolled away, instead focusing on the member list.


    Some familiar names were there:


    Tamara Johnstone ? active yesterday


    Sophie McClain ? active 5 hrs ago


    Alison Parker ? active now


    Terry Wilson ? active 10 mins ago


    Nicole Adams ? active 23 hrs ago


    Olivia Sinclair ? active 4 mths ago


    Lily Smithers ? active 2 weeks ago


    Jaxon Daniels ? active 3 hrs ago


    Tyler Mooney ? active 1d ago...


    Darren Steele ? active now....


    Seeing his name at the newly added, it was obvious. The only reason he was here now was because they found out who he was. FuglyDuckling.


    He exhaled sharply, considering his options. Should he go to the reunion? Just to spite them?


    The doorbell rang.


    Darren let out a happy sigh. "Finally, someone actually uses the doorbell."


    He stood up and walked to the door. When he opened it, Rachel stood there, her usual Rachel expression on her face. "Hey," he said to her.


    "Hey," she offered him a quick smile, then returned to serious mode. "There''s someone here to see you."


    Rachel stepped inside, and Darren''s eyes locked onto the woman walking toward him.


    Sandy.


    She stopped in the doorway, gazing at him. There was a brief silence between them as their eyes were locked together.


    Darren then asked her, "Did you get the friend request?"


    Sandy couldn''t hold back the difficult sad smile.

 Chapter 104 104: Sandys Back

    "You''re such an idiot, you know that right?" Sandy said as she fought a smile.


    "I know, you''re right. I am such an idiot." Darren shrugged. "But I''m also sorry. Come to think of it, I never apologized at all, did I?"


    He scratched the back of his head. "I''m really sorry, Sandy. It was selfish of me. What I did."


    Sandy tilted her head. "It''s fine," she said.


    He frowned. Surprised. "It is?"


    "Yeah. Rachel explained it all to me on our way here," she gave him a friendly smile.


    "She did, huh?"


    "Yes." Sandy replied. On her face was a full smile that he could see she had difficulty putting away. They both looked at each other for a while before she burst out giggling.


    "You''re FuglyDuckling! You. You rattlesnake!"


    "Heh! I thought you''d be mad," Darren breathed.


    "Of course I''m mad. Don''t let this smile on my face deceive you! You lied to me." She hit him playfully on the shoulder.


    "Hey. I was going to tell you. I just... never got to it yet."


    Sandy folded her arms, thrusting her hip to the side. "Rachel is your secretary? How did you pull that off? Weren''t you all afraid of her back then?"


    Darren smirked. "She''s a lot softer than she acts, trust me."


    "Somehow I do." Sandy said, placing a thinking finger on her chin. "When we were in the car, she went on and on about you and what you were doing. She seems to respect you a lot, Darren."


    "Does she?"


    "Yes. I mean she was already suggesting that Amelia and I come aboard and join you in building this investment empire."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "Amelia?"


    "Oh."


    Darren looked over Sandy''s shoulder and gazed at Rachel''s car. Sandy turned around as well.


    Seeing she had been caught, Amelia opened the car door and presented herself. Standing by the fountain with her legs and arms pressed together nervously, and a red handed expression on her face.


    Darren, confused, looked down at Sandy.


    She shrugged.


    ----------


    In the living room, Darren sat the single person vouch. Across from him, on the longer, bigger couch, the three women sat shoulder to shoulder.


    Rachel, who had her hands resting on her knees, an expression of guilt on her face. Sandy, who was constantly gazing at the ceiling and her surroundings as this was her first time in Darren''s home. Then Amelia, who even though this was her first time as well, was already used to seeing mansions, yet she appeared intimidated.


    Darren pursed his lips and looked at them one after the other. When he was done, he exhaled, sitting upright.


    "Ladies?" he called with an opening of his palms. "Mind telling me what''s happening here?"


    Rachel took a deep breath, then shrugged with a single shoulder. "I did plan on making it more organized than this."


    Darren raised a brow at her. "You brought a rival company''s employee to my home. How could that ever be organized?"


    Rachel lowered her gaze. "Well..." She motioned for Amelia to speak.


    The former MWMO secretary glanced at Rachel before looking at Darren. She cleared her throat, shifting her bangs from her face before speaking.


    "I want to quit," she mumbled.


    Darren squinted his gaze at her. "What?"


    "I want to quit my job at Moon Wealth."


    Glancing at Rachel, who said nothing, Darren returned to Amelia. "You want to, or you already have?"


    Amelia frowned. "I want to. Really. I would if I could today. It''s just that... my boss. He could try something."


    Finding more courage, she lifted her face, straightened her shoulders and spoke; "You made me an offer back then. I want to accept it."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "Well that''s assuming that the offer is still up."


    She appeared worried. "It isn''t?"


    "I don''t know. I just find it a little suspicious." He sat back, taking a sip of whiskey, although his eyes never left her throughout.


    "I force Gareth Smithers into a settlement, and sign a deal with Sagomoto Offices rather than Moon Wealth. That would have enraged Ryan Anders wouldn''t it? I expect it would."


    He said nothing for a while, still keeping his gaze on Amelia, gauging her reaction. Rachel as well, glanced at Amelia, suspicion building from Darren''s words.


    "Next thing I know, his secretary is here offering herself to me." He sat forward now, his eyes darkening. "You''re not a mole, are you, Amelia? Sent here to spy on me? Ruin me from within?"


    Amelia''s eyes widened. "No! This is not anything like that. Not at all. Mr. Anders doesn''t even know I''m here. He called me back, yet I came."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being honest to you.©¿


    ''Hmm,'' Darren growled internally. ''So she''s actually telling the truth. But there was something that she said towards the end there.''


    "He called you back?" he asked Amelia.


    "Uh¡ª" Amelia''s voice broke. "Mr. Anders sent me to come see you so you can agree to a settlement. You weren''t here when I first arrived, so I went to your house in Malegreen. That''s where I saw Miss Rachel."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being honest to you.©¿


    Darren thought for a while. "This settlement. Did it involve threats of what I would do if I didn''t settle? I expect that it would."


    "It did," Rachel chimed in, pulling out the file from her handbag. "It''s right here sir."


    She handed him the file, and Darren went through them all with a keen eye. "Oh. He''s threatening all of these, isn''t he? I mean, this gives us an idea of the kinds of moves he would threaten in the future when he has his back against the wall."


    He looked at Amelia, and redid her Personal Insight Protocol to remind himself of her accolades.


    ©³Education: Columbus University, Finance & Business Economics


    Awards: Young Financial Leader Award (2007), Wall Street Excellence Recognition (2008), Fortune 40 Under 40 (2010)©¿


    He quickly noticed that there were four more sections after Awards and before her Address. They were for Skills, Work Rate, Predicted Loyalty Level, and System''s Recommendation.


    Darren wondered if it might have been an update or if it was because he was especially analyzing her for the prospect of hiring, not just to know about her.


    Just like how the system had given him special information on Ryan Anders, because he was strictly analyzing him to find information to use against him.


    ---------------------


    ©³Skills:


    ?Advanced Portfolio Management


    ?Risk Assessment & Mitigation


    ?Executive Assistance & Decision Support


    ?Negotiation & Deal Structuring


    ?Compliance & Regulatory Adherence


    ?Headhunting & Convincing Power


    ?Leadership & Team Coordination©¿


    ©³Work Rate: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Predicted Loyalty Level: 75% (She trusts you, but still believes you to be unstable and might leave if you prove her right.)©¿


    ©³System''s Recommendation: Secure her and increase her loyalty with a high-level position.©¿


    ----------------------


    Darren thought. ''Interesting.'' He glanced at Sandy. Perhaps, he could try this on her as well.


    ----------------------


    ©³Full Name: Sandy Meyers


    Age: 35


    Occupation: Former Financial Secretary at Smithers Group, Senior Financial Strategist


    Education: Harvard University, Finance & Corporate Strategy


    Awards: Financial Excellence Award (2010)©¿


    ©³Skills:


    ?Advanced Financial Strategy & Planning


    ?Corporate Budgeting & Investment Analysis


    ?Cash Management & Financing Control


    ?Risk Assessment & Crisis Management


    ?Experience & Team Coordination


    ?High-Level Corporate Networking©¿


    ©³Work Rate: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Predicted Loyalty Level: 90% (Fully determined to help you prosper. Cares deeply for you with honest affection. However, could abandon you if you hurt her again)©¿


    ©³System''s Recommendation: Possible personal attachment detected¡ªproceed accordingly. Appreciate her loyalty with a strong position in the company.©¿


    -------------------


    ''Is Miss Meyers that attached to me that even the system has to warn me?'' Darren looked at her and smiled in his thoughts. ''Well, I''ve always entertained the idea of a woman being overly obsessed with me.''


    He turned his attention to his secretary. "Rachel, we have a few major positions to fill, don''t we?"


    She nodded. "Yes sir."


    Darren looked at Amelia. "If you''re still interested, then the offer is yours. I''ll make you the Secretary of Investments of my company."


    Amelia''s eyes glistened. "I¡ª I am. I am still interested, yes. Thank you so much, Mr. Steele."


    Sandy looked at everyone, starting to feel like a fourth wheel in the conversation. But she froze when Darren turned to her.


    "What?" she asked with a nervous chuckle.


    "Rachel?" Darren called without looking away from Amelia. "I asked you to make sure you don''t fill the space of Head of Finance. No one was to apply for the job, no one was to be interviewed for it, right?"


    "Yes," Rachel replied. "You said the job already belonged to someone else."


    Darren smiled briefly, his eyes still on Sandy''s face.


    "What''s going on?" Sandy asked again, laughing nervously.


    "Should we try this again, Sandy?" Darren asked. "How would you like to come work for me?"

 Chapter 105 105: The Mechanics of the Company

    Coincidences played their parts. Events, fate and other unexpected occurrences also were involved. Nevertheless, from the very beginning, the moment Darren''s eyes saw that price of $0.08, the dream of Steele Investments was created.


    He saw the bigger picture instantly.


    Sitting at home, making millions by having to wait for months wasn''t enough, no. This operation had to be done in the highest of levels. The highest of scales.


    After understanding the Financial Paradox, he finally found a way to evade it. Darren unlocked the Feature, "Reward Creation" after his Character Bonuses reached a needed amount.


    Others would have attempted to create a 500 Billion Dollar reward or something of such. And although the system didn''t allow for those kinds as it had limits, Darren didn''t even attempt to create a Reward like that.


    Rather, he created one that gave him the perfect evasion tactic to fight the Financial Paradox.


    Darren needed to do crazy, insane investments. The Financial Paradox was a problem, so, the reward he created was Micro-Liquidity Injection Protocol. (MILIP).


    It was a reward that created advanced automation, fractionalization, timing, and decentralization to obscure his activity and mimic natural market behavior.


    That way, every large investment was structured to appear minor in the market trend, so they wouldn''t affect the future pricing of Bitcoin.


    This was Darren''s first move because he knew that if Financial Paradox remained a problem, then there could be no Steele Investments.


    Steele Investments was built with one clear mission: to dominate the multi-asset investment landscape while pioneering in the emerging cryptocurrency market.


    While the company had the structural foundation to manage traditional assets like real estate and equities, Darren Steele''s vision was laser-focused on cryptocurrency, specifically Bitcoin.


    Darren had everything.


    He had the right timing, knowledge, and strategy, and this meant Steele Investments could position itself as the preeminent digital asset investment firm before major financial institutions even considered it a viable market.


    But in order to do this, he needed a team. And so far, it was coming together.


    Darren Steele was the CEO and Head of Investments


    He was not just the face of Steele Investments; he was its driving force.


    His role encompassed overseeing capital allocation, risk management, and overall investment strategies.


    He was going to work with each department head to ensure the company''s operations aligned with his aggressive expansion goals. His expertise in the market, numbers, strategy and combined with the Investor System that no one knew about, made him the perfect leader to push Steele Investments ahead of the curve.


    Rachel Teschmacher was the Executive Secretary, Managing Assistant, and Consultant.


    She was Darren''s right hand. More than a secretary, she acted as his strategic consultant and business manager.


    She handled high-profile negotiations, internal coordination, and operational efficiency, ensuring Darren could focus on big-picture moves. Her connections and insights into the financial world made her an invaluable asset.


    But her drive to please him and ensure that every single one of his goals was met to perfection was what set her apart from everyone else.


    Kara DeAndre was the Head of the IT Department.


    Unconventional. Daring. Unfiltered. Proud.


    Kara was responsible for the technological backbone of Steele Investments.


    She''d never been given something as important as this to do. But, she wasn''t going to go down from the challenge. And she wasn''t going to disappoint Darren who had put so much faith in her.


    In a company focused on cryptocurrency, cybersecurity and digital asset protection were non-negotiable.


    Kara designed and implemented state-of-the-art security protocols, encrypted transaction platforms, and blockchain analytics tools to keep the firm ahead of cyber threats.


    She was also the chairwoman of the computer team, which played a large role in the Bitcoin expansion ¡ª a particularly tasty operation Darren had in mind.


    Sandy Meyers was the Head of Finance.


    This was a no brainer for Darren. He had kept the position for her, and thankfully, when he asked the second time, Sandy agreed.


    With her years of experience in corporate finance, her role was clear; Ensure the company maintained fiscal discipline while maximizing capital growth.


    She was going to handle budgeting, financial planning, liquidity management, and tax efficiency. She would also work closely with Darren to balance high-risk investments with long-term financial sustainability.


    Amelia Forrest was Secretary of Investments.


    All that was left was for her to formally quit her job in MWMO. But in the mean time, Amelia plays a crucial role in researching, analyzing, and structuring investment portfolios.


    She was to ensure that Darren had all necessary data on market trends, asset performance, and risk factors. She would also work directly with Simon Wilkes to generate high-level investment reports and forecasts.


    Simon Wilkes was the Head of Research & Analytics.


    Coming from the popular Dawn Group, Simon was a big name. Rachel had pulled a lot to get him to agree.


    He was in charge of market intelligence. His team uses data-driven methodologies to predict trends in digital assets like crypto, equities, and real estate.


    Darren had secured plans for him to build proprietary models to forecast Bitcoin adoption, price volatility, and institutional interest, giving Darren an early edge in making strategic moves.


    Even though for the most part, he wouldn''t really need it.


    Jonathan Vance was Darren''s Lawyer and Company''s Attorney, while Daisy Chen as his Legal Counselor.


    The legal team was responsible for ensuring compliance with all financial regulations, contracts, and investment agreements.


    Jonathan Vance, as the company''s attorney, handled corporate structuring, SEC compliance, and legal disputes, while Daisy Chen focused on contract negotiations, legal risk assessment, and regulatory filings.


    Miranda Sloane was the Portfolio Manager.


    Miranda was in charge of asset distribution and investment portfolio management.


    She ensured the company''s capital was properly allocated across different sectors to maintain liquidity and optimize returns. Her work directly influenced the company''s overall profitability.


    She had been suggested by Kara of all people, who claimed she had known Miranda from highschool.


    Edward Blane was Financial Consultant.


    Edward acted as a financial strategist, working together with Sandy to ensure perfection in the financial aspects of the company.


    He had once been an employee of the Sinclairs before they became a greedy, unethical company.


    Argent Security was the security service that offered Protection and Compliance Officers (Led by Marilyn Standard).


    Given the sensitive nature of financial transactions and investments, security was a top priority. Argent Security, under Marilyn Standard, ensured both physical and digital security for the firm. They monitored cyber threats, potential fraud, and internal security risks.


    Darren understood that Bitcoin was the future before anyone else did. That was his ultimate edge. The ultimate one.


    While the world saw it as a fad, he saw the unparalleled potential for wealth accumulation.


    The plan forward was simple but revolutionary:


    As soon as the company was launched, work would begin immediately and a mass Bitcoin accumulation would start.


    Darren would allocate a significant portion of Steele Investments'' capital into acquiring Bitcoin at the very low prices they were now.


    He would then send employees to convince every major Bitcoin owner to sell to him. Everyone. Adam Scotland was already a name he had in mind.


    In fact, Darren even planned to push out more anti-Bitcoin news into the world. Let there be no profiteers but him.


    Then, with Simon Wilkes and Kara DeAndre leading the charge, Steele Digital Investments would create computer-driven trading bots and market analysis tools to maximize profits during Bitcoin''s volatile cycles.


    But Security was important, so at the same time, both Kara and Argent Security will begin their jobs.


    Darren wanted to make sure that Steele Investments also controlled secure cold storage solutions and digital asset protection, making it the safest firm to store and manage large crypto holdings.


    Not like there were any others. But still. The marketplace grows fast.


    For the fun part, leveraging legal loopholes was essential. No one got rich by playing fair all the time.


    Jonathan Vance and Daisy Chen would begin work. Creating channels to navigate regulatory uncertainty and position the firm ahead of government policies, ensuring compliance while taking advantage of tax efficiencies.


    And do you know the best part of all this?


    There was no competition.


    No. Single. Rival. Company.


    None at all!


    At this stage, no major investment firm took cryptocurrency seriously. That meant Steele Investments had free reign to dominate the space before the rest of the financial world caught up.


    Darren''s mouth watered at the thought of it sometimes.


    Everything was in place. The leadership team was assembled. The strategy was locked in. The investments were strategically positioned for maximum growth. The Investor System gave the thumbs up.


    All that was left was the official launch.


    Steele Investments was about to redefine the financial landscape.

 Chapter 106 106: The Steele Complex (1)

    There was one week left until launch!


    The Steele Complex ¡ª formerly known as the Helios Dome ¡ª stood tall and proud, a masterpiece of glass and steel.


    Renovations were finally completed and the building, although structured with glass, wasn''t a typical skyscraper.


    Even on the inside, because of the curved form of the building, it made the beautiful interior appear like a corporate stadium.


    In fact, Darren had first wanted to name it the Corporate Colosseum, but his ego wanted his own name to be plastered into the memory of this building.


    Inside here, the transformation was completely underway. Now that the renovations were completed, all that was left was for the interior decoration to begin.


    Turning the building into a company''s headquarters.


    Workers bustled through the grand halls, installing furniture, setting up offices, and ensuring every detail was in place.


    There were ladders everywhere and members of Argent Security were placing security cameras at precise corners of the building.


    In the air was the buzz and the hum of drills, the shuffling of crates, and the murmur of conversations as the building was prepared for its new purpose.


    Darren Steele stood at the center of it all, hands in his pockets, observing the birth of his empire.


    The floor-to-ceiling windows cast long streaks of light across the marble floors, giving everything a pristine, almost surreal quality.


    The open lobby was vast, sleek, and modern, with polished black floors reflecting the chandelier above ¡ª a massive, spiraling structure of glass and gold.


    Darren couldn''t just believe what he was seeing. More than a month ago, he had nothing to his name, lived his entire life for one girl and died to a nameless truck.


    Now, he owned one of the most illustrious buildings in all of Los Alverez. Now, he was the CEO of a company.


    A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts.


    "This place is truly stunning." Rachel Teschmacher appeared beside him, arms crossed, a softer expression than her usual on her face.


    "It''s almost hard to believe that just weeks ago, it was sitting empty." She turned to him, eyes bright with admiration. "I''m proud to be a part of this."


    Darren exhaled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "It''s still just a building. We''re the ones that''s going to make it a company. We are yet to do that."


    "Give yourself the victory, sir." She nudged him slightly. "We did this, Mr. Steele. You, Kara, Sandy...everyone. And we''re just getting started."


    Darren turned to a corner where Kara was yelling at some men handling the computers up the stairs.


    "Do you know how much that''s worth!" She cried and facepalmed. "Handle it with care or the money is coming out of your pay!"


    Rachel huffed. "She''s passionate."


    "She''s barely cared about anything else other than herself for a long time," Darren said. "I think she really just loves being part of something big."


    She gave a firm nod before glancing over her shoulder. "Speaking of being part of something big, there are a few key people you haven''t met yet." She gestured towards a group of professionals engaged in discussions with the workers. "Shall I introduce you?"


    "Let''s do it."


    Rachel called over the first of the three individuals. A tall man in his mid-40s approached, dressed in a tailored gray suit. His sharp eyes radiated intelligence.


    It was Simon Wilkes, the head of Research and Analytics.


    As the man approached, Darren did a quick Personal Insight Protocol.


    ----------------------------------


    ©³....©¿


    ©³Skills:


    ?Data Interpretation


    ?Market Analysis


    ?Strategic Forecasting


    ?Profound Digital Knowledge


    ?Mathematics©¿


    ©³Work Rate: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    ©³Present Loyalty Level: 80% (Nothing beyond professional interest)©¿


    ©³System Advice: Keep engaged with direct vision discussions to increase dedication.©¿


    ---------------------------------


    Simon shook Darren''s hand firmly. "Mr. Steele, it''s a pleasure. I''ve read your investment strategies, and I have been very eager to speak to you. I just want to say... your approach to Bitcoin is... ambitious."


    Darren grinned. "We''ll have a lot to discuss then. Let''s set up a proper meeting soon."


    Simon nodded. "Looking forward to it."


    Next, a poised woman in her early-30s with short, dark auburn hair approached. Her attire was stylish yet professional; a fitted navy blazer over a white silk blouse.


    She was Miranda Sloane, the Portfolio Manager.


    Darren called up her Personal Insight Protocol.


    --------------------------------


    ©³....©¿


    ©³Skills:


    ?Asset Management


    ?Risk Assessment


    ?Portfolio Diversification©¿


    ©³Work Rate: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï©¿


    Present Loyalty Level: 90 (Friendship with Kara DeAndre makes her share the passion for the vision)


    ©³System Advice: Assign her critical asset allocations early to ensure long-term strategy success. Keep her in constant partnership with Kara DeAndre to maintain loyalty.©¿


    ------------------------------


    Miranda extended a confident hand. "Mr. Steele. Wow. I never expected..." She giggled nervously. "...that you would be so young."


    Darren chuckled. "I''m used to it."


    She cleared her throat. "Well, I''ve managed portfolios worth billions, but I must admit, handling the early stages of a digital investment empire excites me."


    "Then we''re on the same page," Darren replied.


    Lastly, a slightly older man with a composed demeanor and salt-and-pepper hair joined them. His brown eyes were sharp, assessing Darren with the quiet scrutiny of a veteran in the field.


    This was Edward Blane, the Financial Consultant


    -----------------------------


    ©³Skills:


    ?Wealth Structuring


    ?Tax Optimization


    ?Investment Strategy


    ?Finance Assistance©¿


    ©³Work Trait: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡î©¿


    ©³Present Loyalty Level: 52% (He just wants a job.)©¿


    ©³System Advice: Provide clear financial objectives early to solidify alignment.©¿


    ----------------------------


    Edward clasped Darren''s hand. "You really are as young as they say you are, Mr. Steele, but you''ve got vision. I like that. Just make sure this ship stays steady."


    Darren chuckled. "That''s what I have all of you for."


    Watching the man walk away, Darren smiled to himself. ''I suppose it''s normal for everyone not to be ecstatic about the idea. Some people just want work so they can put food on the table. It''s completely normal.''


    "What do you think?" Rachel asked him after.


    Darren turned to her and flashed her a smile that made her frozen heart jump. "I think you did a great job," he told her.


    Rachel''s eyes shimmered as she gazed at him. Then she licked her lips. "You''re pleased?" she asked softly.


    "Yes I am," Darren replied. "I''m very pleased."


    They stayed this way for a while, close to their faces as the work continued, but another presence loomed nearby.


    Rachel noticed it and cleared her throat, making Darren turn around.

 Chapter 107: The Steele Complex (2)

    There, a stout woman in a military-style cap with her ponytail falling behind it, was standing, her gaze sharp and no-nonsense.


    Marilyn Standard, the head of Argent Security, greeted him with a firm nod. "Hello, Mr. Steele."


    Rachel spoke. "Darren, this is Marilyn Standard, the captain of the Argent Security team that will be protecting our company."


    "Ahh," Darren nodded once. "It''s a pleasure to meet you."


    Marilyn went straight to the point. "I''ve reviewed the contractor''s layout and matched it with the office allocations Miss Rachel provided. If you''d like, I can take you on a tour to verify everything."


    Darren glanced at Rachel, who nodded. "That''s a good idea. I want to ensure every department is set up for efficiency."


    Marilyn led the way, detailing each floor as they moved.


    "This is the main operations hub," she said, gesturing to an expansive floor filled with workstations. "Your Research & Analytics team will be stationed here, led by Wilkes. They''ll have direct access to financial markets, cryptocurrency analysis, and emerging trend reports."


    Further down, she stopped by a glass-walled conference room. "This will serve as the Strategic Planning Room, where portfolio strategies are devised."


    They entered an area with several private offices. "These belong to Miranda Sloane and Edward Blane. Portfolio management and financial consulting will run here, overseeing all high-value investment decisions."


    As they moved higher, they stepped into a well-secured floor. "Legal and compliance offices."


    "I assume Vance and Daisy Chen will be working here with their team," Darren said. "Though they do have their own building, so this would be mainly for the Vance Team and Daisy Chen herself. Vance would be only here on occasion. His main office should be locked and a key should be sent to him as soon as possible. See to that, Marilyn."


    The captain nodded. "As you wish."


    The tour continued through security checkpoints, data centers, and even break areas. Technology was modern for the time, with state-of-the-art surveillance, secure document storage, and high-speed network setups.


    She showed Darren the IT Department and the Digital Room.


    The IT Department took care of everything computer based for the company. But the Digital Room was where the party would go down.


    Here was the secret lair that many investments and operations were going to be made.


    And taking one look at it, Darren knew it was designed perfectly to his vision.


    Finally, they reached the top floor, and there was Darren''s office.


    Darren''s office crowned the Steele Complex.


    It was almost intentional. On the top floor, it was like every other room there was bowing to his.


    When Marilyn said, "And this, Mr. Steele, is your office," the door opened to a room that was ultimately expansive but still very refined.


    The lines were clean and modern, the design exuded a quiet, commanding power, making it appear like one should be quiet in such a room at all times because angels roamed in its walls.


    Floor-to-ceiling glass walls framed a breathtaking view of the city sprawling below. One could see the Zurich Tower not far away and the Moon Enterprises''s Sub-headquarters.


    The polished dark mahogany floor gleamed under recessed lighting, while a custom desk¡ª dark wood with silver accents ¡ª anchored the space. Sparse but deliberate, it held only a leather-bound notebook, a flat pad for a laptop, and a black fountain pen.


    Behind the desk sat a high-backed leather chair, its rich black upholstery and subtle stitching radiating authority.


    To one side, a minimalist lounge area featured a deep gray sectional sofa and glass coffee tables, flanked by bookshelves lined with volumes on finance and leadership ¡ª carefully curated, not just for show.


    On the opposite wall, a small bar with a wine fridge hinted at subtle elegance, while contemporary art pieces and textured rugs softened the room''s stark edges. The office wasn''t just a workspace; it was a stage, every detail crafted to reflect Darren''s vision and the empire he was forging.


    The room''s centerpiece, though, was a massive digital screen dominating one wall, alive with real-time market data, cryptocurrency trends, and global news.


    Just as Darren had asked.


    It pulsed with the rhythm of the financial world, a dynamic extension of Darren''s mind.


    Rachel stepped inside like she was in a trance, unable to control her own feet, awed by what she was seeing.


    "This... This is beautiful," she muttered.


    Darren turned to Marilyn. "Thank you," he said to her. "You can go now."


    Marilyn saluted him and headed towards the elevator.


    Darren then turned back to Rachel, staring at her ¡ª her hair, her arm, her hips ¡ª as she just gazed around his new office in astonishment.


    "Do you like it?" he asked her.


    "Do I like it?" she chuckled voicelessly. "I''m... intimidated by it."


    She walked around. "This office looks like a room that should never be smeared or disarranged."


    Darren''s face turned serious in that second. "Is that what you think?"


    Rachel pivoted, her hair swaying as she locked eyes with him. His form, his face, standing by the door, gazing at her like she was his prey.


    A willing prey.


    Darren walked close to her. "Why don''t we smear it now? Sin... against this modest room, taint the beauty of that table by fucking on top of it?"


    Rachel took deep breaths as he got close to her. She stepped backwards, again, and again. But Darren only came closer and closer.


    Then, when the back of her thighs pressed against the edge of the table Darren had mentioned, Rachel knew there was nowhere left to retreat. His desire surrounded her, a force as undeniable as gravity, and her surrender only pulled him closer.


    They stood on the edge of inevitable passion, their bodies mere inches apart¡ª so close their noses brushed, so near they could feel each other''s breath, warm and unsteady.


    Every exhale. Every heartbeat. A silent conversation in the space between them.


    "Why don''t we...?" Darren asked the question again in a whispering growl.


    Rachel inhaled sharply, her pulse pounding. Then, without hesitation, she closed the distance, pushing her face into his own, and her lips into his lips.

 Chapter 108: Office Desecration

    With no hesitation at all, Darren surged forward, deeper into her lips, his broad frame towering over her as he seized her face between his hands and crushed his lips against hers.


    The kiss was ferocious, all teeth and tongue, a collision of pent-up hunger and desire that left no room for gentleness.


    His hands dropped from her face, roaming with possessive intent, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips before sliding down to grip her ass through the tight fabric of her pencil skirt.


    Rachel moaned inside his mouth as he squeezed hard, pulling her flush against him, his arousal evident as it pressed against her thigh.


    Feeling his hunger, Rachel''s breath hitched, and her pussy got wetter by the second. When he squeezed her ass once again, a low moan escaped her throat and she melted into him uncontrollably, her manicured nails clawing at his suit jacket.


    Their tongues locked, exchanging saliva over and over while their wet lips rubbed over each other, the tip of their nose squeezing each time they brushed past.


    Darren''s heart beat faster, smelling the scent of her perfume. It was like it was messing with him, with his thoughts, spinning everything inside of him and leaving only primal desire for his secretary.


    With a swift, forceful motion, he spun her around and shoved her down on the massive mahogany desk dominating the room.


    Rachel yelped softly, but she caught herself on time, her palms slapping against the cool surface as the laptop pad and pen clattered to the floor in a chaotic cascade.


    Darren was serious when he demanded that they desecrated this place.


    He was on her in an instant, his chest pressed against her back, his breath hot and ragged against her neck as he yanked her blouse open.


    Buttons tore free, pinging against the desk and floor, revealing the swell of her breasts spilling over a lacy black bra.


    "Darren," Rachel whispered. "Darren, you''re being so rough."


    He didn''t say anything at first. He only continued to breathe hungrily, loud and wild, while his eyes were plastered on her beautiful, seductive cleavage.


    Then he asked, "You don''t like it?"


    Rachel licked her lips as she too panted under his touch. "I do. I want you to do as you want to me. That''s what I want."


    Darren finally looked away from her breasts and gazed at her face, her beautiful silver-blue eyes. Then, he touched her chin softly and made her look at him.


    Then they kissed.


    Again. This one with a deep heavy breath like they were taking a break from the frantic passion earlier.


    But soon enough, it was back.


    Darren and his hands... They were relentless, groping her breasts roughly, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her bra.


    Then, he sunk his fingers into the edges and tugged the cups down, exposing her beautiful shaped breasts that burst out with excitement.


    When Darren grasped them forcefully, Rachel arched into his touch, her skin flushing under his bruising grip, a sharp cry breaking from her lips as he pinched and twisted, sending jolts of pleasure-pain racing through her.


    Even while he played with her breasts, his other hand was already on a mission.


    It went down her waist, rubbed her ass and the fingers fumbled with her skirt. He shoved it up over her hips in a frantic rush, causing the fabric to bunch tightly around her waist.


    Rachel''s thighs trembled as he hooked his thumbs into her panties and ripped them down, the delicate lace tearing under his impatience.


    He kicked her legs apart, wider, forcing her to brace herself against the desk as he pressed himself against her, the heat of his body searing into her bare skin.


    His belt clinked as he undid it, the sound sharp and metallic in the charged silence, followed by the hiss of his zipper.


    Rachel''s pulse thundered in her ears, her body quivering with anticipation as she felt him, hard and insistent, nudging against her.


    "Everyone is downstairs," she said, covering her mouth with her palm.


    "Are you worried that they''ll hear, or do you want them to?" Darren whispered in her ear.


    Letting out a guttural growl, he thrust into her, deep and unyielding, filling her completely in one brutal stroke.


    Rachel felt her pussy fill up at that moment. His cock was now a part of her, a body part not among her usual, yet not unfamiliar.


    The desk ¡ª as powerful as it was ¡ª groaned under the force of the thrust, its legs scraping against the floor as he set a punishing pace.


    "Huh, Rachel?" Darren asked again. "Tell me which one it is. Are you worried that they''ll hear? Or do you want them to?"


    He thrusted again. Each one was harder than the last, his hips slamming into her with a wet, rhythmic slap that echoed through the room.


    "Do you want everyone to know that you love giving yourself to your boss? That even though you''re cold to them, you''re very submissive to me."


    "Mmm¡ª ngh!!" Rachel moaned. "Yes I am. I''m submissive to you, sir! Ugh! Yes, please yes! I only want to please you!"


    Her hands scrabbled for purchase, nails digging into the wood as she pushed back against him, meeting his ferocity with her own.


    Her moans grew louder, raw and unrestrained, mingling with his grunts as sweat slicked their skin, dripping onto the desk in dark, glistening beads.


    "I thought you wanted to be quiet?" Darren smirked.


    He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to expose the pale column of her throat, her breasts bounced hard because of this, and his teeth grazed her pulse point before biting down, marking her.


    "Now it seems you''re actually trying to get caught! Moaning so loud."


    Rachel shuddered, her body tightening around him, the sensation driving her wild. "I''m trying, sir! I''m trying! Ughhhh!! Ngh!"


    Darren''s free hand slid around to her front, fingers finding her clit and rubbing in harsh, desperate circles, pushing her closer to the edge.


    "Oh my¡ª oh my!" She quickly covered her mouth with her palm and let out a wild moan.


    Darren pitied her, though he was pleased by it all, seeing her completely helpless against the pleasure. "Maybe we should get a gag next time, mhm?!"


    "Wha¡ª ngh! Whatever you want, sir! Aghhh!"


    The desk rocked violently now, its surface littered with the wreckage of their lust, but none of it mattered as they chased their release.


    Darren continued to thrust, and thrust, and thrust. He fucked her harder and harder, chasing his orgasm as he pushed her to hers.


    Rachel''s phone began to ring, but she ignored it.


    "That could be important," Darren breathed, still fucking her hard. "But you''re not even trying to pick it up. You know pleasing me is much more important."


    "Yes it is. Yes it is!" Rachel moaned. "You''re gonna make me cum! Oh fu¡ª! Ngh!"


    Her climax hit first, a scream tearing from her throat as her body convulsed, even though she tried to suppress it, it was still fairly loud.


    Because of the rush of pleasure, she clenched around Darren in waves that nearly undid him.


    Darren''s grip on her hips tightened, bruising, as he pounded into her with renewed fury, the tension coiling in his gut snapping seconds later.


    "Get on your knees! Get on your knees!" Darren commanded.


    Rachel instantly fell to her knees, just in time to take all of Darren''s load on her face as he came with a roar, spilling onto her.


    Pant. Pant. Pant.


    Both their breathing was heavy and hard..


    Darren collapsed on the ruined desk, trying to catch his breath as his chest heaved, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and the newly purchased wood.


    "That call..." Darren spoke first. "What was it about?"


    Rachel pulled out her phone and saw a text from Kara:


    ''That Ryan Anders guy is here.''

 Chapter 109 109: Opposite of Friends

    Darren Steele and Rachel Teschmacher burst out of the office on the upper floor, their polished exteriors betraying none of the madness they had just raged within.


    Darren''s tailored charcoal suit hugged his broad shoulders, his tie still knotted with military precision, while Rachel''s sharp blazer and pencil skirt ensemble screamed authority, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a metronome set to a furious tempo.


    They had serious expressions on their faces and they moved with purpose, making a beeline for the elevator.


    The doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing a mirrored interior that reflected their tense expressions back at them.


    As they stepped inside and the doors sealed them in, Rachel turned to Darren, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly, a faint crease forming between her brows. "Do you have any idea why Anders is here?" she asked, her voice low but edged with suspicion, as if she were testing the waters before diving into a shark-infested sea.


    Darren leaned against the polished steel wall, his jaw tight, his dark hair slightly mussed from their steamy sex back in his office. "Not a damn clue," he admitted, his tone clipped, betraying a flicker of irritation.


    He fished his phone from his pocket and fired off a quick text to his men: ''Is Amelia Forrest okay?'' His thumb hovered over the buttons for a moment, as if willing a response to materialize instantly, before he shoved the phone back into his jacket when nothing came.


    The elevator hummed downward, the numbers ticking off like a countdown to confrontation.


    When the doors parted at the ground floor, they stepped into the sprawling lobby of the Steele Complex. And there, amidst the orchestrated chaos of workers hauling desks and unrolling blueprints, stood Ryan Anders.


    If this man hadn''t found himself in the world of business, he truly would have made a lot of money in modelling.


    He was a vision of smug perfection¡ª tall and lean, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and eyes like polished obsidian, glinting with a mix of amusement and malice.


    He was wearing a bespoke navy suit that clung to him like a second skin, the crisp white shirt beneath unbuttoned just enough to hint at his calculated nonchalance.


    He stood with his hands sunk into his pockets, surveying the bustling workers with the air of a king inspecting a domain he planned to conquer.


    Every so often, he''d nod approvingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.


    Seeing his face made Darren grimace hatefully. He strode forward, his broad frame completely taking the attention from everyone.


    Kara stopped what she was doing and watched, while the men she''d been ordering about used that time to rest a little.


    Darren''s glare remained fixed on Anders like a missile locking onto its target. Rachel flanked him, her posture rigid, her own stare a dagger aimed at the intruder.


    Anders lowered his gaze to face them, his smirk widening into something teasing, almost playful. "Well, well, if it isn''t Mister Duckling himself, Darren Steele," he drawled, his voice smooth as velvet but laced with a taunting edge. "You''ve got quite the operation going here. I''d say I''m impressed, but that might inflate your ego more than it can handle."


    Darren stopped a few feet away, his fists clenching at his sides. "You know you are trespassing, right? What the hell are you doing here, Anders?" he demanded.


    Beside him, Rachel''s glare intensified, her lips pressing into a thin line, her arms crossed as if to shield herself from Anders''s oily charm.


    Ryan Anders raised his hands in mock surrender, though the glint in his eyes suggested anything but retreat. "Easy now, Steele. I''m not here to stir up trouble. I just want to talk."


    His tone was light, but Darren would be a fool to trust a man with the face and voice of a serpent.


    His eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "Amelia," he said sharply, cutting through the pleasantries. "Did you hurt her?"


    Ryan''s expression shifted, his smirk morphing into something darker, more sinister, though he kept his voice steady. "Hurt Amelia? Never. I''d sooner cut off my own hand than lay a finger on her."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being honest©¿


    Then, slowly, that evil smile crept back. "But you... oh, you are the only one who has hurt someone here, Darren."


    Darren raised a brow.


    "You''ve hurt me. You actually did it." Ryan nodded in tentative agreement. "You found the guts. You poached my secretary... and brought her to this..." He gestured around the lobby with a dismissive flick of his wrist, "...place."


    "I''ll admit, I didn''t see that coming. Not at all. I was too blinded by my anger." He smacked his lips. "That lesson has been learnt. I will evolve. Humans always do."


    He paused, letting the words hang in the air, then leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I''ll hand it to you, though. For Amelia to agree to join you, there must be something intriguing about what you''re doing here. The Helios Dome ¡ª $100 million, wasn''t it? And this renovation, whipped up in record time... $500 million, easy. Yet you''ve pulled it off like it was nothing."


    Ryan got closer. "How, Darren? You''re something, aren''t you? You''ve got a secret. Surely you do. Something spicy. Something big. Something even the women you keep so close to you don''t know." His gaze flicked briefly to Rachel, who bristled visibly, before returning to Darren. "But I''m determined to find it out, Mr. Steele."


    Darren''s lips twitched into a smirk of his own, though his eyes burned with defiance. "You want to dig into my secrets, Anders? Good luck. You''ll need a bigger shovel than that silver spoon you were born with."


    Anders chuckled, a low, throaty sound that echoed with both amusement and menace. "You''re funny, Steele. I like you. I like you quite a lot ¡ª too much, really. It''s why I end up despising you, hating you with every fiber of my being. Why did you choose so wrongly? Mhm? Moon Wealth could''ve taken you places. You could''ve built an empire, shaken hands with Archibald Mooney himself."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "Fuck Archibald Mooney," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.


    Anders'' smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something almost feral. "Your spirit ¡ª it''s so full, so alive. It''s exciting. You and I could have been very good friends, Darren, you have no idea."


    But before he could say more, his phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the tension.


    Ryan cussed and pulled it out, his expression shifting as he listened to the voice on the other end, his brow furrowing slightly. "Yes... I am aware. I told him I would handle it now let me handle it. We will find where the money is. It certainly didn''t just disappear."


    Darren narrowed his eyes hearing that.


    Ryan cussed once again before ending the call and pocketing the device again.


    Darren caught the flicker of concern on his face. "What''s the problem?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.


    Ryan Anders gave him a side glance. "Business. Nothing that concerns you."


    "Maybe I can help," Darren offered, appearing as honest as he could be, while still challenging Anders.


    Anders studied him for a moment, his head tilting as if weighing the pros and cons of accepting aid from his rival. Then, with a faint nod, he relented.


    "Okay, Mr. Duckling. One million dollars has gone missing from a research fund for one of the companies whose wealth I manage."


    ''Research fund,'' Darren thought. ''I knew it. This is about the money Terry stole from Moon Enterprises. So it was one million not just the 200 hundred thousand he had given Alison.''


    Ryan continued. "I''m still trying to trace the money to see if it was misplaced, transferred into the wrong funds or stolen. So... what do you think?"


    Darren pretended to be considering. Then he spoke, "Does this company have a contractor? A smaller company that helps with supply chain and general contracting?"


    Ryan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "They do. Why?"


    "Then the money was most likely stolen. These contractors do this at times, planning to replace it before it is noticed. They must have hijacked a portion of your research budget directly, rerouted it under the guise of a sanctioned use, and moved it into their own ecosystem before anyone noticed. Now that you have, they must be frantic. That''s unless... they don''t know yet."


    Rachel stared at Darren. Anders as well, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful, more calculating.


    "Will you look at that? You might be onto something there, Mr. Duckling," Anders admitted, his tone grudgingly impressed. "I always knew there was something special about you."


    They stared for a longer while before Anders sighed.


    "Alright, Steele. In exchange for this little nugget, I''ll back off ¡ª for now. But don''t think I''m not watching." He turned to leave, his polished shoes clicking against the floor.


    "Anders," Darren called him, his tone firm, unyielding. "This doesn''t make us friends."


    Ryan Anders paused, then turned back, a sinister smile on his face. "You took my Amelia from me, Darren Steele. Whatever the true antonym of ''friends'' is, that''s what we are."


    He held Darren''s gaze for a beat longer, his smile a twisted promise of future battles, before spinning on his heel and striding toward the glass doors.


    "Goodbye," he tossed over his shoulder. "And good luck with the launch party!"


    The lobby exhaled once he left.

 Chapter 110 110: Licking His Wounds

    Darren stood in the gleaming lobby of the Steele Complex, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching Ryan Anders''s retreating figure melt into the sunlight beyond the glass doors.


    Darren wasn''t intimidated, wasn''t scared, not in the slightest. Perhaps he was getting a bit pompous, a bit too certain, too sure in himself and the Investor System that he didn''t believe any harm could come to him.


    He''d already died before. Death wasn''t particularly a stranger to him.


    Maybe he needed a reality check, a reminder that even with the Investor System and everything he knew, men like Ryan Anders were powerful men for a reason.


    Or maybe he was right, and the man''s sinister chuckle still echoing in his ears were nothing but the final ones of a dead man.


    ''That guy...'' Darren mused, his jaw tightening as he replayed their exchange. Anders had slithered in like a fox in a henhouse, all smug grins and veiled threats, like he usually did.


    He reminded Darren of the cunning men in historical fantasies, who relied not on strength but on their knowledge.


    Knowledge was power, was it not? Well... sometimes it was.


    A sigh escaped him, heavy with the weight of vigilance. Ryan might''ve accepted this round''s defeat, but Darren knew better than to trust the stillness after a storm.


    Rachel looked at him, her eyes scanning his face with a mix of concern and curiosity. "You okay?" she asked, her voice softer now, stripped of the edge it had carried during Anders'' intrusion.


    "Yeah, I''m fine," Darren replied, forcing a half-smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. "So far, it looks like Anders is licking his wounds. Let''s hope he stays that way for a while."


    He got a text and after reading it, turned to Rachel. "Amelia has resigned and she''s coming here. Show her her office when she gets here, okay?"


    Rachel nodded. "Yes sir."


    Kara swept into the scene, her red hair catching the light as she planted herself in the center of the lobby, hands on her hips. She stared at the door Anders had exited through, her brow furrowing. "What did that creepy guy want?" she asked.


    Darren turned to her, staying composed. "I handled it," he said firmly. "You and Rachel keep doing what you''re doing¡ª supervise the interior setup. I''ve been really impressed with the both of you today. Thank you... so much."


    Kara grinned, a spark of pride lighting her face, and after she and Rachel shared a glance, Rachel gave a curt nod and shifted back into work mode.


    Darren''s stomach growled, a low rumble that cut through his thoughts. "I''m starving," he remarked.


    "Oh, I can get you something to eat," Rachel offered.


    "No it''s fine," Darren stopped her. "I need the air anyway." After saying that, he glanced toward the exit. "I''ll grab lunch at Castle Cottage. Be back soon."


    Then he left as the two women watched.


    The city swallowed him the moment he stepped outside the company''s main premises, the hum of traffic and distant horns wrapping around him like a familiar cloak.


    Hands still in his pockets, Darren walked with a steady stride, the Steele Complex''s glass facade shrinking behind him.


    As he walked, he couldn''t stop thinking about Ryan Anders. His mind churned over his words: Amelia, the Helios Dome, that jab about secrets.


    But Darren''s mind also wandered to Alison.


    It kinda tugged at him that she spoke to him in confidence, and he''d taken the information and used it to get on over Terry Wilson.


    However, it was completely her fault that she was tangled up in the mess in the first place.


    She met Terry Wilson of all people for help and the weasel ended up siphoning a million dollars from a Moon Enterprises''s research fund.


    He''d given her 250 thousand, but only God knew what he did with the remaining 750 thousand.


    Darren''s lips twitched into a grim smirk.


    Fuck.


    Pointing Ryan toward that missing money wasn''t charity work. No, he knew exactly why he did. It was a calculated shove, a wedge to splinter the alliance between Terry and Tyler Mooney.


    If it worked, Terry would be out of a job, facing bars instead of boardrooms. ''Even small victories taste sweet,'' Darren thought, savoring the idea of watching that smug little empire crack.


    He rounded a corner onto a quieter street, the roar of cars fading to a murmur, and spotted the wrought-iron gate of Castle Cottage ahead.


    Darren quickened his pace, looking left and right to cross the street, already imagining the rustic charm of the outdoor patio, the scent of grilled meat wafting through the air ¡ª until he stopped short.


    The gate was shut tight, a padlock glinting in the midday sun.


    His eyes caught a fairly new sign hung crookedly from the bars: "Business Closed. Land for Sale."


    Darren blinked, surprise flickering across his face. "That fast, huh?" he muttered, running a hand through his brown hair.


    Just weeks ago, he''d sat there with Sandy, chatting with the waiter ¡ª Penelope, the owner''s daughter. She''d mentioned competition driving them under, but Darren never expected it to happen this fast.


    Fuck. Again.


    A passerby, an older man with a graying beard and a faded ball cap, noticed his confusion. "Closed up last week," the man offered, nodding toward the gate. "Tough break. If you''re hungry, though, Shooters just opened a branch down the street."


    Darren frowned, the name tugging at a vague memory. "Shooters?" he echoed, giving the man a brow raise of skepticism.


    The man shrugged and pointed, so Darren followed the direction, curiosity nudging him forward.


    The building was like any high-end restaurant/bar, with the glass windows and red platings. A large logo was on top of the building, sampling the name; Shooters, which had two gun muzzles replacing the double O''s.


    As soon as he stepped into the restaurant, the atmosphere hit him like a wave. There was raucous laughter, clinking glasses, and a pulsing energy that teetered on the edge of chaos.


    Shooters was a hive of mostly men, their voices booming over the din, while waitresses wove through the crowd in outfits that left little to the imagination: tight white shirts emblazoned with the logo of "Shooters" stretched across their chests, paired with red shorts that hugged every curve.


    The place was a hair''s breadth from a strip club, all neon lights and polished wood, the air thick with the scent of beer and fried food.


    Darren''s brows lifted as he took it in, he was both amused and in disbelief. Seeing this, he remembered that he had heard of Shooters before, yes, but had never set foot inside.


    ''This is... something,'' he thought, scanning the room.


    He was very ready to enjoy himself and the view of the beautiful young women, just like every other guy there.


    That was until¡ª


    "Mister!" A waitress bounded toward him, her blonde ponytail swinging, her shirt straining on her hefty breasts as she waved enthusiastically.


    Darren''s eyes locked onto her, and he recognized her instantly.


    That big innocent smile on her face. Yup, it was Penelope Castle.


    She had the same bright smile, same infectious energy, though the setting couldn''t be more different from the quaint charm of Castle Cottage.


    She skidded to a stop in front of him, grinning wide. "Fancy seeing you here!"


    Darren only stood frozen.


    What the fuck?

 Chapter 111 111: Shooting in Shooters

    It''s not like it was completely unnatural or unbelievable to see Penelope in such a place, but she was just... She wasn''t the kind of girl Darren felt comfortable with in a place like this.


    First of all, she was only nineteen, and she was too innocent! She had all her life ahead of her, and, even worse, this was one of the restaurants that drove her father''s out of business.


    What was she doing here?


    She was still standing before him, her smile big and beautiful, her ponytail bouncing slightly as she shifted her weight, the tight "Shooters" shirt and red shorts clinging to her nineteen-year-old frame in a way that made Darren''s jaw tighten.


    She was all youthful energy, her blue eyes bright despite the dim lighting, and Darren just couldn''t stand the idea of all of it being tarnished in this depraved place.


    "You work here now?" he asked her.


    Penelope shrugged, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, her demeanor softening as she spoke. "Yes... mostly. College tuition is a beast so I''m trying to get money anyway I can. Dad''s place... well, we had to close. So I''m here weekends and free days, making cash for school."


    Her tone was light, but there was a strain there, a crack in the facade. She could sense that Darren felt disappointed, even though they barely knew each other..


    "It''s not so bad," she explained herself desperately. "Pays the bills. And the tip is great."


    Darren''s gaze lingered on her outfit, the skimpy getup a stark contrast to the conservative apron she''d worn at her father''s place.


    It gnawed at him. Sure, it was her choice, but this place reeked of exploitation, and the thought of her body being ogled for tips twisted something protective in his gut.


    "They make you wear that all the time?" he asked, his tone low, probing but gentle.


    Penelope''s cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at herself, suddenly shy. "Yeah, I know how it looks," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "But it''s fine. I''m safe here. The guys are... respectable."


    As if on cue, a loud smack split the air. A burly man in a plaid shirt slapped the ass of another waitress weaving through the crowd, her tray wobbling as she yelped.


    Darren''s eyes narrowed, disgust curling his lip.


    Penelope caught his look and forced a smile. "Most of the time," she added weakly. She straightened up, brushing it off. "Anyway, what can I get you?"


    Darren took a seat by a free table, shaking off the unease. "A great burger," he said, settling deeper into the booth.


    ''Been a while since I had a good one. System''s had me on a brutal workout grind¡ªtoday''s cheat day, and I''m cashing in.''


    Penelope grinned. "Alright, coming right up."


    She jotted his order down and darted off toward the kitchen.


    As she left, Darren''s gaze followed her, only to catch the manager ¡ª a wiry guy with a slicked-back ponytail and a perpetual sneer ¡ª barking at her over some minor slip-up.


    His tone was sharp, cutting, and Penelope shrank slightly under it. Darren grimaced, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table.


    ''Shooters,'' he thought bitterly. One of the places that''d bled Castle Cottage dry.


    He leaned back, piecing it together.


    Shooters was one of those wealthy chains Penelope had mentioned, the kind that crushed smaller joints with ruthless precision.


    Darren knew exactly how business like this did it.


    They''d slashed prices to unsustainable lows, soaking up losses just to starve out the competition.


    They would also lock in exclusive supplier deals, jacking up costs for places like Castle Cottage until they couldn''t breathe.


    And if that wasn''t enough, the indirect hits piled on¡ª rising rents, shifting tastes, a flood of ads drowning out the little guy.


    They''d driven her family''s medieval charm of a restaurant ¡ª a restaurant that actually had culture and style ¡ª into the dirt, and to make it worse, they poached the owner''s daughter because she had nowhere else to turn.


    It was a slick, brutal game, and Darren hated how it played out.


    His thoughts shifted as he summoned the system''s interface.


    The lavender interface appeared before him.


    -----------------


    ©³Monthly Quests: Seeing is Believing¡ª2/3 complete.©¿


    ©³1? Apple Stocks: $500 million projected profit©¿


    ©³2? Housing: $1.2 billion project profit©¿


    ©³3? None (Suggestion: Castle Cottage Rebuild)©¿


    -----------------


    Funny, because that was exactly the investment he was considering.


    There was one solid investment left, and the month was ticking down.


    Darren thought about it, seeing the image of that ''business closed'' sign on Castle Cottage''s shuttered gate in his mind.


    ''I might actually be investing in the restaurant after all,'' he mused, already forming an investment plan.


    Just then, Penelope returned, sliding a steaming burger onto the table ¡ª juicy, stacked with crispy bacon, the bun golden and glistening.


    "Enjoy," she said with a wink before slipping away. Darren dug in, the first bite a glorious rebellion against his regimen, rich and messy in all the right ways.


    He could tell Penelope took her time to make it specially for him.


    As he ate greedily, his eyes caught something. It was Penelope, and she was cornered near the bar by a hulking customer with a buzzcut and a leer.


    Darren stopped chewing.


    The man had grabbed her arm, yanking her toward him as she squirmed. Even though the manager was clearly seeing this happen, he did nothing, pretending to be oblivious.


    Darren''s burger hit the plate with a soft thud. He was on his feet in seconds, striding over with a predator''s calm, his broad frame cutting through the crowd.


    "Come on, just one date, eh?!" the burly man said to Penelope. "A beautiful girl like you needs a strong man like me to take care of her don''t you¡ª eh... Ahhh!"


    Darren clamped a hand around the guy''s wrist, squeezing hard enough to make the man yelp and release Penelope.


    "You''re not very strong at all," Darren whispered, voice like steel.


    The guy spun, fists up, but Darren ducked the sloppy swing and drove a fist into his gut¡ª a clean, powerful strike that doubled him over with a wheeze.


    The manager finally stirred, stomping over, his ponytail swinging. "What''s going on here! Get out, now!" he snapped, jabbing a finger at Darren.


    Darren straightened, towering over him, his dark eyes glinting with cold fury. "You run a shithole," he said, voice low and lethal. "Next time I see you let some prick manhandle your staff, I''ll burn this place to the ground myself." He turned to Penelope, softening as he took her hand. "I''m leaving¡ª and she''s coming with me."


    Penelope almost gasped in surprise as she looked up at Darren, her body shrinking behind his.


    The manager''s face twisted, venom in his glare. "Penelope, you walk out that door, don''t ever come back, you hear me! Think wise, girl."


    Penelope hesitated, her breath shaky, but Darren looked down at her, and his gaze was so sure and protecting, so confident.


    Penelope swallowed. Her resolve hardened, and she nodded. "I''m leaving," she declared, her voice trembling even though it was resolute.


    The customer cursed, clenching his fist as Darren stomped out of the restaurant with Penelope, dropping a note on the table, but not forgetting to take his burger with him.

 Chapter 112 112: Shopping

    Once they got outside, the street greeted them with the hum of passing cars, and the loud noise of people going about their day.


    Darren stood straight and rigid for a moment, clearly annoyed, his fingers clasped tight around the burger he''d refused to leave behind.


    His blue eyes burned with a quiet intensity, jaw clenched tight as he replayed the chaos he''d just dismantled. Ugh, something about the entire thing just bit at him.


    Perhaps his ego had grown too big in a short time, and it was easier to feel disrespected or disgusted.


    Beside him, Penelope hovered, her petite form still trembling from the shock of it all, her blonde ponytail straight now as she stared at him anxiously.


    The "Shooters" uniform clung to her like a second skin, absurdly out of place now, and her wide blue eyes darted between Darren and the road, disbelief clouding her features.


    She had no idea why she had just done that. How could she? She''d just walked out on her only lifeline¡ª with a stranger, no less.


    What other way could she pay her tuition now?


    "Why''d you do that, Mister?" she blurted out, her voice having both confusion and a tiny bit of accusation.


    Darren didn''t answer, not that he was ignoring her, but her question seemed to have just blown past him without actually entering his ears.


    He just raised the quarter-eaten burger in his grasp and took a deliberate bite, chewing as if it were a lifeline to his composure.


    The juicy patty dripped slightly, while he munched on like a hyena.


    Penelope''s brows furrowed, her shock giving way to impatience. "Mister! Why''d you do that back there? How am I supposed to pay for tuition now?" she demanded, crossing her arms, though the gesture looked more vulnerable than defiant in her skimpy outfit.


    Darren swallowed the bite, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before meeting her gaze. "You chose to leave with me, didn''t you?" he said, his voice low and steady, cutting through her rising panic like a blade through fog.


    She blinked, thrown off. "Yeah, but... you''re just a customer. I don''t really know you at all." Her voice sounded like she was speaking more to herself, questioning why she did it.


    She was caught between frustration and a dawning realization. Darren tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Yet you came with me anyway."


    Penelope huffed, pouting her pink lips. "I don''t even know why I did that," she muttered, still to herself.


    "Mhm." Darren nodded, studying her as he finished off the burger in one last bite. "Sometimes you just follow the gut," he said, brushing crumbs from his hands. "It''s rarely wrong."


    Penelope watched him chew, and she smiled ¡ª out of nowhere ¡ª like she was amused by the way his mouth moved. "Seems you were really hungry," she said, then perked up, her eyes lighting with an idea. "If you want, you could come by my place. My dad''s home¡ª I could cook you something."


    Darren didn''t really know how to refuse food. He looked down at her, one brow arching as he studied her. "You can cook?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.


    She grinned, her whole face brightening, a spark of her natural cheer bubbling through. "Of course I can, Mister! I cooked most of the dishes at Dad''s restaurant. I''ve actually got this dream; I want to own a big restaurant someday, a whole cuisine empire, to be honest." Her hands waved animatedly, her enthusiasm infectious.


    "Hmm. You''re quite inspired," Darren said, still studying her. ''I do wish she would stop calling me Mister though.''


    His eyes moved and he caught a man sauntering by, his lecherous gaze raking over Penelope''s exposed figure.


    Darren''s frown deepened, and his protective edge took over once more. "You can''t wear that out here," he said gruffly, already shrugging off his charcoal blazer.


    Before she could protest, he draped it over her shoulders, the fabric swallowing her small frame, the sleeves dangling past her hands.


    "Oh," she breathed, blushing as she tugged it closer, her cheeks glowing pink as she hid her tiny face under the colors of the dark material.


    Darren straightened his tie ¡ª red against his crisp white shirt ¡ª and added, "I''d like to see your father, actually."


    "Mhm?" Penelope twisted her lips. "You would?"


    "It''s about the restaurant. I''m thinking we could be business partners."


    Her eyes widened, sparkling with sudden hope. "Oh! Then let''s go¡ª I''ll take you to him. Our home is not very far from here." She shrugged slightly, then blushed again as he nodded.


    "And maybe we can talk more about what you''ll cook for me," he teased, his gaze strict but teasing.


    Penelope smiled, ducking her head as they started down the road.


    ------


    Darren, now in just his white long-sleeve shirt, the tie hanging loose and stylish, walked with a confident stride, while Penelope shuffled beside him, nearly lost in his oversized blazer, her hands hidden in the sleeves like a kid playing dress-up.


    As they passed crowds, people glanced at them, others even turned their heads and followed their movement. Probably because they thought they were a beautiful young couple.


    It was normal for humans to want two good looking people to be together. Like it was a rule written somewhere.


    The contrast was striking¡ª Darren''s polished authority against Penelope''s youthful, disheveled charm.


    "So, college," Darren prompted as they walked, the city noise fading into a background hum. "How''s it been?"


    Penelope sighed, kicking a pebble. "Tough but fun. You know what I''m studying? Hospitality¡ª so lame."


    "You don''t like it?"


    "It works I guess. I could be a nurse, right? Maybe if I do well I could work for one of those big hospitals like Morrison''s."


    Darren frowned. "Holloway Medicals isn''t a bad option."


    Penelope nodded, oblivious. "Yeah. Them too. Tuition''s the killer, though. I was juggling Shooters and classes, barely sleeping. Dad tried to help, but..." She trailed off, then perked up.


    "What about you, Mister? You''re all fancy¡ª what do you do?"


    Darren chuckled, then straightened up to answer. "I''m an investor."


    Penelope raised her brows. "An investor? Ooh. Fun."


    "Fun?"


    "Well, you do things like scout possible business and assets that could make you money, right?" She placed a finger on her jaw. "Isn''t that fun?"


    "It keeps me busy." Darren replied. "But yes, it can''t be very fun sometimes. Especially when no one believes in an asset and you end up proving them wrong."


    "Mhm," Penelope downturned her lips. "You seem really young to be an investor. You must be very smart then."


    Darren looked forward, a comical expression on his face. ''I sure hope so.''


    As they passed a boutique, its glass window glowing with soft light, Penelope''s steps slowed.


    Her eyes locked onto a dress; a flowing, emerald-green number with delicate lace trim, elegant yet simple.


    Darren caught her stare and paused. "You like it?" he asked, his tone casual but observant.


    She flinched, flustered. "No, no. I mean... it''s pretty, but I can''t afford it," she stammered, waving her hands.


    Darren studied her, then glanced at the dress. ''Come to think of it. I haven''t flexed my wealth at all, have I? Perhaps this is the best time to do it. A humble girl like Penelope probably hasn''t been spoiled a day in her life.''


    He arrived at a decision. "Let''s get it, then."


    "What?" Penelope squeaked, eyes wide.


    "You like it," he said simply. "So let me get it for you."


    She shook her head, incredulous. "Trust me, Mister. The prices here are crazy."


    Darren raised a brow, unfazed. "Do you not want it?"


    She stared at him, caught, then mumbled, "I do."


    "Then let''s get it," he said, nodding toward the door. "And don''t stop there. You can pick anything you like."


    Her eyes glistened, a mix of disbelief and delight, and she hesitated only a second before darting inside.


    Inside the boutique, Penelope flitted between racks, her bubbly energy unleashed.


    At first, she gravitated toward cheaper items¡ª a plain scarf, a modest blouse¡ª glancing at Darren with shy guilt. She''d never had someone spend on her and she didn''t want to seem like she was taking advantage of him.


    Darren leaned against a display, arms crossed, and shook his head. "You don''t have to do that. Come on now. Take anything you like," he said firmly. "No holding back."


    She bit her lip, then said okay.


    After a while, she slowly eased into it. She grabbed dresses, bags, even a pair of sleek boots.


    She''d duck into the dressing room, emerging each time with a new look, twirling for Darren''s approval.


    First, a navy sundress that hugged her curves, her blonde hair glowing against it. Darren nodded, imagining her helping him with his tie before work while she wore that sundress.


    "Suits you," he simply said.


    Next, a crimson shift dress, bold and striking. Then a cream sweater dress. Then a tight pencil gown that pressed her curves so much and exposed a good amount of cleavage on its v-neck.


    Darren cleared his throat and gave a simple thumbs up.


    Penelope smiled. Her beauty shone through each cloth she picked, radiant and unpolished, her laughter filling the space.


    By the end, the counter was piled high ¡ª dresses, a leather tote, those boots, and more. The cashier rang it up: $5,875.


    Penelope''s jaw dropped, her hands clutching the blazer''s sleeves as Darren made the payment without blinking.


    "You''re insane, Mister," she whispered, awed, as they left with bags dangling from his arms, her carrying just one.


    They reached her apartment building¡ªa modest, weathered brick structure with chipped paint and a flickering entry light.


    They had been talking and laughing throughout the walk. Penelope then turned to him, eyes shining. "Thank you. Really. Dad''s gonna be grateful too."


    Darren shifted the bags, smirking. "Hopefully grateful enough to hear my business plan."


    Hearing that, her smile reduced a little, becoming slightly wry.


    She knocked on the door. "Dad, I''m home!"


    The door creaked open, revealing Mr. Castle¡ªa stocky man with graying hair and a tired but kind face.


    "Penny! You''re home early¡ª" He froze, spotting Darren. "Who''s this?"


    Giving the elderly man a look of respect, Darren squared his shoulders.


    "Hello, Mr. Castle."

 Chapter 113: Im an Investor

    Mr. Arnold Castle was a stocky man in his late fifties with a salt-and-pepper beard. He had a weathered face, though there were traces that suggested that he had been a very handsome man when he was younger.


    He had weak, friendly, hazel eyes that crinkled with surprise. He wore a flannel shirt hung loose over faded jeans, he was very thin, but not unhealthy, and his expression shifted from relief at seeing his daughter to curiosity as he clocked the tall, sharply dressed stranger beside her.


    After greeting Mr. Castle, Darren kept his gaze steady, doing his very best not to appear disrespectful or too imposing.


    Still, at the same time, his dark blue eyes were steady and assessing, taking in the man''s tired but kind demeanor as Arnold Castle took an assessment of him as well.


    Darren could see. Arnold was a man doing his very best. He was a father worn by life but still standing.


    "Dad, this is... um, a customer from the restaurant," Penelope said, her voice bright but tinged with nerves as she gestured to Darren. "He was curious why Castle Cottage closed."


    Mr. Castle''s bushy brows lifted, his lips pursing as he studied Darren''s polished white shirt and red tie, noting the stark contrast to his own rumpled look. "Oh, it''s an unfortunate thing, really, sir," he said, his voice gravelly with a hint of defeat. "We had no choice but to shut it down."


    "That''s why I''m here, Mr. Castle," Darren replied smoothly, his face brimming with a confidence that filled the small entryway. "To give you one."


    Mr. Castle''s eyes narrowed slightly, even though he was slightly intrigued, the man was old enough to not trust people who appeared in his house giving promises.


    Although this man was very young and had the face of an angel, no one was going to come making offers dressed as the devil.


    A look of security painted across his face, while Darren held his ground, exuding a quiet authority that demanded attention.


    Because of this, he didn''t seem pretentious. He maintained his demeanor of superiority, as long as he did not disrespect anyone.


    Mr. Castle saw this as being genuine.


    Others would have pretended to be kinder, keeping a fake smile on their faces. Smiles that didn''t squint their eyes or reach their ears.


    Penelope piped up, her bubbly energy intentionally cutting through the tension. "He also got me gifts!" she exclaimed, holding up a bag with a grin.


    Mr. Castle''s gaze darted to the pile of bags Darren carried, his expression softening into a bemused smile.


    "Is all that for her? That''s quite a lot of gifts," he remarked, scratching his beard. "You''re quite the generous man."


    Darren smirked faintly, recognizing the slight sarcasm. Saying nothing to it, he did something that neither Penelope or Arnold Castle had expected.


    He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a sleek, wooden box. "I got this for you," he said, handing it over.


    Eyebrows raised with intrigue. Penelope stared at the box, wondering when he had bought it.


    Taking the box, Mr. Castle inspected its design, seeing the fancy rune-like displays on its body, and then a logo in its center¡ª the spires of a castle.


    Now he was truly intrigued. More than earlier.


    With a click, he opened the box to reveal a vintage pocket watch ¡ª silver, engraved with a subtle medieval pattern ¡ª and a pair of leather driving gloves with the same logo of castle spires, soft and rich brown, perfect for a man of his age.


    Mr. Castle''s face lit up, a genuine grin breaking through the weariness and the walls of security he''d put up earlier. "Well, isn''t this just a splendid gift. Look at the castle logo," he chuckled in an excited dad-like manner.


    His gaze lifted up to his daughter who smiled and shrugged, then he turned to Darren. "Well, don''t just stay out there. Come on in, come on in," he said, stepping aside with a welcoming nod. "Let''s not stand here gawking."


    "Thank you, Mr. Castle."


    Penelope happily took the bags from Darren and hurried to her room.


    The door clicked close while Mr. Castle chuckled. "Oh. Seems you''ve made her really happy with those gifts. I understand. It has been a while since I got her anything. So thank you for putting a smile on my Penny''s face."


    "It''s no problem, Mr. Castle. Penelope is a virtuous girl. She deserves gifts like those." Darren said.


    "Thank you for my gift as well. I think it''s been much longer since I myself received one."


    Darren chuckled, looking around. "You have a nice home."


    The living room was cozy, cluttered with the charm of a well-lived-in space ¡ª faded plaid couch, a coffee table stacked with old magazines, and a shelf of mismatched books.


    "Oh, don''t be kind. It''s a simple place. Our last name might be Castle, but unfortunately he¡ªhe... our house is nothing like one."


    Darren smiled. "So a cottage then."


    "Eh?" the man immediately frowned.


    Darren frowned too, worried that he might have offended him. "I was referring to the... restaurant''s name..." he muttered, doing damage control. "You know? Castle Cottage...? I was like..."


    Mr. Castle''s face remained stern.


    Darren gave up and sighed. "Never mind. I apolog¡ª"


    "Ha! Ha!" the man erupted into laughter, placing a hand on Darren''s shoulder. "I was only messing with you! Hah! You should have seen the look on that handsome face of yours!"


    Darren smiled uneasily, thanking the heavens. "You got me there, sir."


    Gestured by Mr. Castle, he settled onto the couch, while Mr. Castle sank into an armchair, still admiring the watch.


    "You look very young. You don''t act like it. But a man of my age can tell the youthfulness of anyone. I can see that you''re not many years older than my daughter. Are you really here to talk about business, or is my Penny the reason why a guy like you is playing Santa?" Mr. Castle asked, chuckling.


    Darren shook his head quicker than a hamster''s wheel. "Although your daughter is extremely beautiful, sir. I assure you, my visit here is strictly for business."


    "Ah! So you''re really this generous," Mr. Castle said, smiling. "Do you have kids, or is this just how you roll?"


    Darren laughed, a low, easy sound. "No kids. Just saw a chance to do something decent. And your daughter''s got a hell of a spirit."


    Castle grinned wider. "That she does. Takes after me¡ª well, the good parts, anyway. The rest? That''s her mother''s doing, for better or worse."


    Penelope came out of her room, pretending she hadn''t heard anything and slipped into the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans began.


    She was cooking.


    Mr. Castle sighed. "I feel dreadfully ashamed that she has to work in that place just to earn money. A weak old man like me can barely do any labor to earn us some cash. The restaurant was basically everything we had."


    "Seems like a rough predicament," Darren said.


    "It is." Mr. Castle leaned forward, his tone shifting to something more personal. "Things have been really difficult for us since the divorce. Her mother ¡ª my ex-wife ¡ª she left us high and dry. Took half of everything, if not more. The restaurant was all I had left to keep Penny going. I put all of my work into it, my passion and heritage, to make it something, but..."


    He sighed, rubbing his neck. "Big places like Shooters came in. We noticed the change slowly. But soon, we knew it was inevitable, especially when they started to drop prices we couldn''t match and lock up suppliers. Rent shot up, ads buried us. Drove us right into the ground."


    Darren nodded, his suspicions confirmed ¡ª textbook corporate predation, just as he''d figured.


    He leaned in, his voice steady but edged with promise. "What if I told you that Penelope would never have to work in that place ever again. And that you could still have your dream restaurant. I could give you a shot to rebuild it ¡ª bigger, better than ever?"


    Mr. Castle''s eyes sharpened, intrigue replacing the fatigue. He laughed at first, playing it safe. "You come in here with the face of an angel, the voice and the character of an angel, and then you make promises only angels would. Who are you really, boy?"


    "My name is Darren Steele," Darren replied.


    Mr. Castle pursed his lips. "And what do you do, Mr. Darren Steele."


    His eyes turned stern when he replied.


    "I''m an investor."

 Chapter 114: Third Solid Investment

    Mr. Castle narrowed his eyes at him. And after studying him for a while, he folded his arms and said, "I''m listening."


    Darren launched into his pitch, keeping it sharp and engaging. "To be honest, many investors will see your restaurant as a sinking ship, but I like you Mr. Castle, and frankly z you are right, I like your daughter too."


    The man grunted silently, respecting the confidence to be honest, but not a complete fan of the honesty itself.


    "So I''ll make you the best deal I can. One that shares your vision intertwined with mine so that we can both make a lot of money."


    Mr. Castle nodded once. "Go on."


    "I put in $250,000 upfront. We renovate, starting by modernizing the kitchen, keep that medieval charm but make it sleek, draw a crowd. New seating, top-notch gear. I have allies in media groups, a popular magazine and an even more popular reporter. We will hit marketing hard¡ª use the magazine for ads, social media, themed nights like jousting feasts, four a month, thirty guests each at fifty bucks a pop. That''s $6,000 monthly right there."


    "But to give your restaurant an even bigger personality, we''re going to create merchandise. Mugs, shirts, little keepsakes ¡ª another $1,500 steady. Daily dining? Picture 150 customers a day, $14 average spend. That''s $63,000 a month. Total revenue will be $70,500. In a year, you''re looking at $900,000"


    Castle whistled low, leaning back. "That''s almost a million dollars."


    Darren tilted his head as though to shrug. "You''ve not taken off the costs."


    "Oh." Castle realized. "That''s true."


    Darren continued. "Staff, ingredients, rent, that''ll run $24,500 monthly. Leaves us $46,000 profit each month. Break-even''s five and a half months ¡ª $250,000 divided by $46,000. After that, year one nets $322,000. Clean, simple, and yours to run."


    "You''re giving me all of the profit of year one?" Mr. Castle was surprised.


    Darren pursed his lips in agreement. "Think of it as an ally beginner bonus. After year one, the budget increases and so do sales, both food and merchandise. A mathematical graph indicates a 99% increase. And a 20% increase for the year after."


    Castle''s jaw slackened slightly, then he laughed, a hearty sound. "Hell, you''ve got a mind for this, son. That''s sharp as a tack. What are you trying to do? Make me a millionaire?" he chuckled. "Hell, if my ex-wife sees me back on top, she''d come back, wanting a cut."


    Darren chuckled too, leaning back with a glint in his eye. "They always do. But don''t you worry. Since you''re my ally, my legal team will have your back. She won''t touch a dime."


    He paused, then added, "Now, from the second year, I''d want shares, of course ¡ª say, 30% of yearly profit. Fair split for the risk."


    Castle rubbed his chin, then thrust out a hand without hesitation. "You are an incredible man, Mr. Steele! You''ve got a deal! Let''s get our lawyers on it ¡ªhow''s next Tuesday?"


    Darren shook it, firm and final. "I would like to get this completed before the month ends so next Tuesday works just fine."


    Castle stood, clutching the watch and gloves. "Thank you so very much. Now, I''m telling you I''m going to go stash these and grab a shower. But what I''m actually going to do is go cry and thank the Lord for sending an angel."


    Darren smiled, flustered.


    "Penny''ll keep you company¡ª she''s cooking something nice, looks like."


    Darren smiled. "You raised a good daughter."


    Castle chuckled, a proud gleam in his eye. "Yeah, I''m proud of her."


    He shuffled off, leaving the room quiet save for the kitchen''s soft clatter.


    Moments later, Penelope emerged, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. Darren was certain she''d been eavesdropping, no doubt.


    In her hands was a tray: a steaming plate of herb-crusted chicken, golden roasted potatoes, and a side of buttery garlic bread, the aroma rich and mouthwatering.


    Darren''s stomach growled, his eyes watering at the sight. "Thank you," he said, taking the tray as she plopped beside him on the couch, now wearing home clothes.


    He took a bite of the chicken ¡ª tender, bursting with flavor ¡ª and his brain melted into a puddle of bliss.


    "How is it?" she asked, her voice bubbly but tentative.


    Darren swallowed, not believing what he''d just tasted. "This is the most delicious thing I''ve ever tasted. You''re really good ¡ª like, really really good."


    Penelope beamed, her beauty radiant in the soft light, all golden hair and sparkling eyes. "Thank you! I''m glad you like it."


    Darren went on to eating, savoring every bite.


    She tilted her head as she watched him, then spoke with a softer tone. "I heard you and Dad. Are you really gonna do all that to help us?"


    Darren nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. What happened to you guys sucks; soulless companies stomping out the little guy. I want to fix that."


    She chuckled nervously when she asked her next question. "Did you... heh... uhm... Is that why you bought me all that stuff? So that my dad would agree to your investment deal?"


    Darren looked at her, brows creased. "No," he said honestly. "No. Not at all. I bought you that because I wanted to. Okay? I''m never going to treat you like a means to an end."


    Penelope''s gaze softened, her eyes melted into his as her gaze locked on his face. She had gratitude shimmering within her, but it was edged with something deeper.


    "Thank you, Mister," she said, almost a whisper. "You''re helping us so much, and I don''t even know your name."


    Darren coughed, caught off guard, then laughed. "Oh. I... didn''t realize. It''s Darren. Darren Steele."


    She repeated it softly, "Darren Steele," her voice testing it like a melody. "Thank you, Darren Steele."


    Their eyes held, the air thickening as she leaned in, lips parting slightly.


    Ding!


    ©³This person has grown deep affection for you©¿


    Darren''s heart began to pound softly, and he mirrored her, drawing in closer. Their lips were inches away from clashing when the floor suddenly creaked.


    Penelope sprang up, nearly toppling the tray, standing beside Darren with a guilty flush.


    Mr. Castle turned to them and smiled, noticing the meal, "Oh, Mr. Steele! How''s the food?"


    Darren cleared his throat, smiling back. "Wonderful, Mr. Castle. Your daughter''s a great cook."


    Castle smirked, oblivious. "Ehhh, she learned from the best." He ambled away into the next room.


    Once he disappeared, Penelope and Darren exchanged a glance, then burst into laughter.

 Chapter 115: Mothers Passion

    Darren eased his Aston Martin One-77 through the winding private streets of Greenbaby, the engine''s low growl cutting through the stillness of the late night.


    The street was cloaked in darkness, save for the bright silver of beautiful street lamps high above his car, casting long shadows across the pavement.


    Listening to an Eminem track, he bobbed his head softly according to the tune as the cool and crisp, brushed against his face from his rolled down windows, carrying the faint scent of pine from the surrounding woods.


    Darren had left Penelope''s house two hours ago. The visit had ended with him finishing the food she made him to the plate and then gulping down a box of orange juice that he had elevated to see her bring.


    Then, after offering a handshake to Mr. Castle, the man had pulled him towards himself and gave him a deep hug rather, saying that Darren was now part of the family.


    If that meant that he was giving him his daughter''s hand on marriage, Darren wasn''t sure. He certainly wouldn''t oppose it.


    But he wasn''t sure.


    Penelope had them escorted him out of the building, and even though the tension of their failed kiss from earlier lingered, they didn''t attempt another.


    They only shared phone numbers and Darren decided that would be enough for now.


    However, even now, ¡ª especially now ¡ª his mind was a storm of Penelope.


    That altercation ¡ª sharp words, sharper looks ¡ª kept replaying like a looped track. She had eyes that made him feel like the best person in the world. Like he could commit acts that everyone would deem atrocious and condemn him, yet she would still give him that gaze of admiration and innocence.


    It felt selfish, he couldn''t lie, but he wanted to be selfish with her.


    Penelope made him feel raw, exposed, like some fumbling high school kid again, tripping over his own feet to impress her. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, the leather creaking under his palms.


    He couldn''t shake her off. But he also didn''t want to.


    The mansion loomed ahead, its silhouette a jagged outline against the night sky.


    Lights glowed softly from the lower windows, while the quiet softness of the night made its beautiful noises.


    Darren pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching over gravel, and killed the engine, shutting Eminem up.


    For a moment, he just sat there, the silence settling around him like a heavy coat. Then he stepped out, and the cool night air brushed against him even more as he made his way to the front door.


    He looked down and realized he wasn''t wearing his blazer. His red tie was dangling with the cool breeze, and his white shirt stuck to his skin.


    Darren smiled. Had Penelope intentionally kept his blazer?


    Pushing the thought away with a shake of his head, he reached for the handle of the door, but it swung open by itself and there stood his mother, Pamela, her silhouette framed by the golden light spilling from the foyer.


    She was in a simple robe, her brown hair pulled back loosely, and her seemingly dull eyes lit up at the sight of him.


    "Darren," she said, her voice soft but carrying that familiar maternal weight. "You''re back late. Everything alright?"


    He gave a big smile, accepting her hug as he stepped inside. Then he closed the door behind him. "Everything is alright, Mom. Just... a long day that''s all."


    She tilted her head, studying him in that way she always did¡ª like she could see straight through to the marrow of him. "A long day for my 21 year old boy."


    "Mhm?" Darren looked at her with a side eye. "21 year old man seems more appropriate, don''t you think?"


    Pamela beamed playfully at him. "No. Now come on, sit with me a minute. I''ve missed hearing your voice around here."


    "I was barely gone a day, mom."


    "A day?! My, I thought it was weeks!"


    They settled in the living room, the faint hum of the heater filling the quiet. Pamela folded her hands in her lap, her gaze steady. "White shirt, red tie, polished shoes. Your father was only a mechanic. He would have been so amazed by what you''ve become."


    Darren lowered his eyes.


    Pamela noticed. "And proud," she quickly added.


    Darren said "Yeah."


    Pamela''s voice softened when she spoke next. "Don''t you think it''s time?"


    Darren lifted his head, understanding what she was asking but pretending otherwise.


    "I''ve been as patient as possible, Dare Bear. A mother falls ill in a bungalow and wakes up in a mansion, she would have a lot of questions." She played with his hair and rested her head on his shoulder.


    "Tell me how you did it. If it''s anything dangerous, I''m too comfortable to be angry with you."


    Darren sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his hair that his mom had just destroyed.


    This was the part he''d rehearsed ¡ª not the full truth, of course, but enough to satisfy her.


    "It was Bitcoin," he started with a measured tone.


    Pamela''s eyebrows lifted, impressed but not entirely surprised. "Bitcoin? You mean the computer thing you were always talking about?"


    "Yes."


    "Oh I see. So it''s this Bitcoin that''s made you rich?"


    Darren hesitated. "Not completely."


    He explained as much as he could without telling her everything. He even confessed about loaning from the Red Fang, and even though Pamela''s knee jerk reaction was to worry, he explained to her how he''d handled it.


    She didn''t understand many of the Bitcoin terminologies, so Darren used that to his advantage. Not needing to mention the system that helped him, or the fact that the person she was talking to was actually her son from 10 years in the future who had already seen her die.


    After he was done, Darren wasn''t quite sure what to expect, but Pamela reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace.


    "It''s okay, Darren," she murmured against his shoulder. "I always knew you''d do special things."


    Darren mumbled against her own shoulder. "You''re not mad?"


    "Mad? How can I be mad at you for taking the risks to save my life? For following your dreams? Your intuition? What kind of mother would do that?"


    Darren exhaled, then added the next part. "Uncle Jared wasn''t the one who paid the hospital bill. I was. He actually left us but I didn''t know how to tell you."


    "I know," she said.


    He pulled back, searching her face. "You knew?"


    Pamela shrugged softly. "I mean... I suspected it was you who paid the bill. I know Jared left us, I thought I was protecting you by not telling you, but it seemed you already knew and you were protecting me."


    She laughed, a light, airy sound. "I''m proud. So proud. But..." Her smile faltered, and she looked down at her hands. "It does make me feel a little worthless, I suppose."


    "Worthless?" Darren frowned, leaning forward. "Mom, you''re anything but that. Why would you even say that?"


    She sighed, her fingers twisting the edge of her robe. "You''re so young, Dare Bear, and already you''ve got everything ¡ª money, this house, a future most people only dream of. I feel like my job as your mother is done. You really don''t need me anymore. And here I am, rattling around in this big place with nothing to do but chat with Gladys."


    Darren chuckled despite himself. "Gladys is great company, though."


    Pamela''s lips quirked up. "Oh, she is. Keeps me on my toes with her stories."


    Then she got silent for a while as Darren stared at her. She heaved a sigh. "Oh, don''t mind me, son. Maybe I''m just tired. It''s been a long day, and my head''s full of nonsense. I made spaghetti if you''re hungry¡ª it''s in the kitchen. Now, I think I need a good night''s rest to shake all this off."


    She stood, brushing a hand over his shoulder as she passed. "Goodnight, Darren."


    "Night, Mom," he called after her, watching her disappear down the hall.


    Alone now, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Her words gnawed at him.


    Darren''s mom was only 42 ¡ª hardly old, still full of life. Had he been so caught up in his own world, in bringing her back, that he''d overlooked her in the process?


    Of course she was going to be lonely in such a big house.


    Even with the TV.


    Darren wondered. What could he do?


    She''d always had passions ¡ª gardening, painting, even that brief stint trying to master the guitar. Maybe there was something he could come with me, a small business, a guitar class?


    Some way to reignite that spark for her.


    Frustrated, Darren exhaled. He''d figure it out. He had to.


    His phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him from his thoughts. He fished it out, glancing at the screen.


    ''Reminder: CheyenneLamb sent you a friend request.''


    He stared at it, raising an eyebrow. ''I almost forgot,'' he said inwardly. ''I finally linked my wallet to my Gmail. So the FuglyDuckling account is officially mine.''


    He tapped the notification, and the app opened with a prompt:


    ''Please complete your profile: put profile picture.''


    Darren sighed, slumping back into the couch. "I''ve got time on my hands," he said under his breath. "Might as well waste it on something vain."

 Chapter 116 116: Setting Up Profile

    Darren sprawled across the plush leather couch lazily, the faint glow of his Blackberry Asha poured a soft light on his face as he stared at its screen.


    It wasn''t Facebook, 2go, Twitter or even the newly rising Instagram, but CryptoTracker could be of really great use to Darren when it came to growing his business.


    Especially since he was already famous.


    The CryptoTracker app stared back at him, a screen loaded and showed him his half-baked profile with the vacant profile picture and the temporary pseudonym, FuglyDuckling.


    His follower count sat at 4.1 million ¡ª a number that made his chest tighten with a strange mix of pride and disbelief.


    It had to be generated or something. 4.1 million people? This was a business app for investment especially in Cryptocurrency. Or perhaps, were the followers from the main app as well? BusinessTracker?


    Darren scrolled through other big names.


    ScottishPanda (Adam Scotland) had 2 million followers.


    CheyenneLamb (Cheyenne L. Bordeaux) had 1.9 million.


    ArchibaldMoon (Archibald Mooney) had 1.7 million


    Surprisingly, his daughter AlettaMoon (Aletta Mooney) had 1.7 million as well.


    There were some other popular names under, including Tyler Wilson who was at 1.1 million.


    How had Darren found himself as the most followed account on the app? He hadn''t even bothered to drop a like or leave a comment. All he did was make Bitcoin purchases that seemed rather normal in his former time, but ridiculous to everyone in 2010.


    The absurdity of it almost made him laugh.


    He went through the setup prompts, finally getting around to fleshing out his profile.


    For the picture, he scrolled through his gallery and landed on one Rachel had insisted he take for the company''s website.


    Tentatively, Darren had agreed.


    A hired photographer had captured him in a sharp suit against a minimalist backdrop ¡ª cool, composed, with no smile of course on his face.


    It looked formal enough. Perfect. He uploaded it.


    Next came the pseudonym. Darren chewed on the thought for a moment, fingers hovering over the buttons.


    ''Ugh... FuglyDuckling... I don''t know...''


    It had been a quirky placeholder, but it felt a bit ridiculous at this point. However, something about it was already drained into his persona.


    So, Darren decided to trim it down, settling on Mr. Duckling.


    Since his Google account was now connected to the app, his full name showed under the pseudonym, Darren Steele. Below it was his personal information.


    It was straightforward: 21 years old, White, Male, Graduate of Brookfield University of Business and Literature, then the list of his degrees and awards.


    Then came the business details. He leaned into it, crafting a profile that mirrored the titans he admired while keeping it true to his own empire-in-the-making:


    - Steele Investments (Cryptocurrency, Finance, Infrastructure, Real Estate, Technology)


    Primary focus: Bitcoin, with a portfolio spanning high-risk, high-reward ventures.


    - High-Stakes Investment Opportunities (Min Buy-in: $10M)


    Exclusive access for elite players ready to bet big.


    He hit save, and once the profile was completed, he noticed a blue tick beside his name¡ªa badge for verified, highly followed accounts.


    Darren stared at it, brow furrowing. Blue was fine, sure, but he''d seen the golden ticks on other profiles.


    He remembered it was for ultra verified Billionaire users, reserved for moguls and CEOs dripping in wealth and influence.


    At 4.1 million followers, the most on the app, didn''t he deserve gold? He tapped the tick, and the description confirmed it.


    Gold was meant for the top of the top, the Cheyenne Lambs and the Archibald Mooneys, irrespective of how many followers one had.


    A wry smile tugged at his lips. "Vain little thing," he muttered, shaking his head. "Means nothing, really, and yet we chase it like it''s a medal. I guess a multi billionaire is what I have to be if I want a golden tick."


    He noticed his inbox was red, brimming with unread messages. He opened it, scrolling through the flood that had poured in since his first investment.


    There were messages from a month ago, then another after his first profit, and another after his second investment. Then, it seemed that after he went public, that was when hundreds more notifications came in.


    The messages were a chaotic mix of admiration, venom, and desperation. He skimmed them, his reactions flickering between amusement, annoyance, and indifference.


    Some were simply just hating, calling him a grifter and a money waster. Like CryptoKing99 who had this to say;


    -"You''re a fraud, Steele. No way a kid like you pulls this off legit. Enjoy it while it lasts! Crash is coming."


    Darren rolled his eyes. Just a bitter nobody who couldn''t stomach someone younger outpacing them.


    It was somewhat fun receiving hate mail. Darren had heard so many influencers from the former timeline talk about it. Now that he was the one getting it, he didn''t understand what the fuss was about.


    This was prime entertainment. Comedy.


    After ignoring HandsomeDuckling, who claimed once again that he was the better Duckling and also the better looking Duckling, he moved on to the next.


    - From BTCBeliever: "You''re a legend! That last move was genius¡ªteach me your ways, man!"


    A faint smirk crossed his face. Flattery was nice, but he wasn''t here to play mentor. He scrolled and scrolled, finding Pennywise23.


    - "Please, Duckling! I''ve got $500 to my name. Tell me what to invest in ¡ª I''m begging you!"


    Darren sighed, ''How am I ever going to get to all these messages?''


    - From LilyRoseX: "Mr. Darren Steele, saw your pic in the magazine! Cute and rich? Dangerous combo. ;) Say hi back?"


    Darren snorted, shaking his head. She''s pretty. Unfortunate name though.


    He found some other messages that were more kind mannered and thoughtful, praising him, but then, a particular message caught his eye, stopping his scroll dead:


    From CheyenneLamb¡ª Mr. Steele, do you not plan on responding to my friend request?


    He froze, staring at the screen.


    Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux ¡ª CEO of The Bordeaux Corporation, a sprawling empire of finance, real estate, and luxury assets. A woman who didn''t just play the game but owned the board, and the only female owner of an Empire Company in Calivernia.


    Darren pursed his lips. Presently, he had one friend on the app; SandyBeach, good old Sandy, who''d ballooned to over 500,000 followers just for being his only friend.


    And Darren had over a million friend requests at this point. But why was someone of Cheyenne Lamb''s caliber so insistent on linking up with him?


    Curiosity tugged at Darren as he stared at her profile.


    His thumbs hovered, then typed: ''Why are you so eager, Miss Lamb?'' He hit send, leaning back as the message zipped off into the ether.


    ---


    Ding!


    Miles away, in an expansive, regal room draped in lights that were soft, amber and soothing, a delicate chime of music floated through the air, coming from a distant piano.


    On a glass table, a phone dinged. A pristine hand reached for it, styled lavender nails decorated the beautiful hand as it picked the phone from the table and lifted it.


    Beautiful silver eyes, though cold and piercing, fixed on the screen.


    Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux read the message coldly.

 Chapter 117 117: Texting the Lamb

    Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux was one of the only women in the world who could claim that the fortune she had amassed was entirely her own ¡ª not a cent owed to a husband or a benefactor.


    She had grit, and her wealth was a testament to this grit. Born into a crumbling legacy, Cheyenne inherited The Bordeaux Corporation from her father ¡ª a once-proud name reduced to a hollow shell by his reckless gambles and mismanagement.


    At 19, she''d taken the reins, staring down a mountain of debt and a boardroom of skeptics who saw her as little more than a girl playing dress-up.


    But she took the challenge. She attended business school, sort after a diploma, got her degrees, certificate, graduated top of the class and went into practice before fully taking control of TBC.


    She had no time for doubters, or for boys and men who began to seek after her as she grew more beautiful and intelligent.


    Soon, once she began her work, growth came. She''d built an empire from the ashes, transforming The Bordeaux Corporation into a titan of finance, real estate, and luxury assets, worth tens of billions.


    After fighting the market and all her competitors, Cheyenne rose to the top and not many years ago, successfully became an Empire Company ¡ª one of the elite conglomerates in the country that banded together for mutual gain.


    She was the only female CEO among the Empire Companies in Calivernia. That distinction fueled her pride, a quiet fire that burned beneath her every move.


    Her past wasn''t without its scars. She''d married once, briefly, to a man named Victor who''d seemed promising until her success eclipsed his.


    He couldn''t stomach her outpacing him, and their union dissolved in a bitter legal tangle over assets he''d tried ¡ª and failed ¡ª to claim.


    Since then, Cheyenne has kept her focus singular: her company, her legacy. Men were a distraction she couldn''t afford, and she''d learned to trust her instincts over anyone else''s promises.


    Now, in her late thirties, Cheyenne was an even more striking figure. She was tall and commanding, with fair glowing skin and short, bow-cut hair with streaks of silver.


    Matching those streaks were her bright silver eyes, and her lips were always painted a bold red. Tonight, alone in her mansion, she wore a tailored purple silk robe ¡ª her favorite color ¡ª cinched at the waist, the fabric cascading over her like liquid amethyst.


    The room around her was a symphony of elegance: high ceilings, velvet drapes, and a mahogany desk that gleamed under the soft glow of a Tiffany lamp. A glass of Bordeaux ¡ª her own vintage that was becoming very famous in the market ¡ª sat untouched beside her phone.


    Cheyenne was almost always alone. Especially at times like this.


    Usually, she preferred this state of loneliness as it allowed her to think. Even on her beautiful face, creases of worry stretched on her forehead as her thoughts were filled the company.


    Recently, her world had grown treacherous. She knew that Archibald Mooney and Richard Morrison, CEOs of rival Empire Companies, were circling like vultures.


    She''d caught whispers of their scheme to oust her from the conglomerate, to undermine her position and claim Bordeaux Corporation''s position and privileges for themselves.


    Just typical of men to go after the woman.


    Cheyenne was fighting tooth and nail to hold her ground, but she knew how powerful Archibald Mooney and Richard Morrison were. She knew she needed an edge.


    But what exactly did that have to do with a certain young investor splashing his fortune into Bitcoin, a volatile asset she''d yet to fully grasp.


    Well, Miss Lamb doesn''t take interest in people for no reason.


    Darren''s message glowed on the screen: "Why are you so eager, Miss Lamb?"


    She tilted her head, her silver eyes narrowing as she considered her reply. Her fingers, adorned with those lavender nails, danced over the keys.


    "You think I''m being eager," she typed, her tone clipped even in text.


    Back in Greenbaby, Darren lounged on his couch, the CryptoTracker app still open. His phone buzzed with her response, and he raised an eyebrow.


    It was late at night so he was surprised that she was still awake. That gave him even a deeper idea of the type of person she might be.


    He tapped back, "For a woman of your caliber and a man of mine, yes."


    Cheyenne''s lips pressed into a thin line as she read his words. Reading that made her feel a bit self conscious, and she wondered if she was coming out as desperate.


    Tsk, she hissed. She didn''t care what a boy thought of her. She tapped the buttons and responded, "Perhaps to maintain the respect of my caliber I should just delete the request."


    Darren saw the message, and a worried frown spread below his nose. Having an Empire Company CEO in his friend list could be very useful, he knew that.


    So he typed quickly, "No. No. Let''s not do anything rash. I was just curious, that''s all. I''m simply a new investor, you own one of the leading investor companies in the state, an Empire Company too. I just want to know what you see in someone like me."


    Her gaze was ice as she scanned his message. "Don''t act meek," she responded. "I''ve looked into you, you''re certainly not the meek type."


    Darren blinked at the screen. "Looked into me? Now this is interesting. Are you stalking me, Miss Lamb?" he shot back, a smirk tugging at his lips.


    Her expression didn''t shift, but she did hiss again. "From being meek to self-flattery, you change colors like a lizard," she typed. "The Helios Dome. I had my eyes on it and you bought it."


    Darren''s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. "Oh. Is that what this is about?" he replied. "You''re wealthy enough. If you saw I was going for it, you have the money to outprice me."


    "True," she texted back. "The problem was from my end. My own people forgot to message me. I had no information that it was being looked at by someone else until the sale was completed. To my surprise, it was by the same man who I sent a friend request to because of his interesting online investments."


    She then continued with another message. "You were all over the news. That must be overwhelming for a 21-year-old."


    He leaned forward, his jaw tightening as he read her words. She''d been watching him longer than he''d realized. "I''ve dealt with more," he typed, keeping it curt. "So why did you want the Helios Dome?"


    Her silver eyes sharpened. "Don''t ask me questions like we''re friends," she suddenly fired. "Clearly it''s for business that doesn''t concern you. I will find another fitting building."


    Darren frowned at his phone. What kind of woman was this ¡ª cold one minute, cutting the next? "Okay. Maybe it would be better if you just told me why you took an interest in me," he texted, testing her patience.


    "I don''t have an interest in you," she replied swiftly. "I have an interest in Bitcoin and am still unsure whether to take it on as a legit investment prospect. My analytical team and investment counselors have all told me no, that the market is unsafe."


    He leaned back, processing that. "Well, there you have it then," he typed. "Or don''t you trust your people?"


    "No," she responded.


    That got an eyebrow raise of surprise by Darren. "Huh," he sent back, intrigued.


    Her next message came fast. "It''s easy for bigger Empire Companies to plant moles and disruptors in smaller Empire Companies. I think I''m being sabotaged from within."


    Darren stared at the screen, the weight of her words sinking in. Before he could reply, another text followed.


    "But this is too delicate of a subject to talk about over texts and at this time no less," she wrote. "Come for a meeting. We will have it at The Pendulum."


    He sighed, rubbing his temple. The Pendulum again, guess that place is Los Alverez''s swanky hotspot for the elite.


    "I don''t really know how you think a person like me could help," he typed. "What could I do exactly for you, Miss Lamb?"


    "That''s for me to worry about," she replied. "As a starting company, are you really going to refuse a one-on-one meeting with the CEO of an Empire Company?"


    Darren paused, her challenge hanging in the air. She had a point¡ª too good a point. But he had a better play.


    "You saying that is really tempting me to say no," he texted. "But why don''t we do this? My Company Launch Party is next week Thursday. I''m formally inviting you. You''ll take the VIP table, I''ll personally thank you, see to it that you''re treated as your stature demands. It will be really good for my business. Then after, you and I can head to The Pendulum and have that meeting."


    He hit send and watched the screen. "Read" popped up almost instantly, but no reply followed.


    As the seconds stretched, a knot of doubt tightened in his gut. Had he overstepped, pushed too far with someone like Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux? His fingers hovered over the keys, ready to backtrack, when¡ª


    "Deal," she texted back.


    Darren exhaled, a slow grin breaking across his face. The chapter closed there, the tension between them simmering, unresolved, but now tethered by a promise.

 Chapter 118 118: Company Launch! (1)

    The city stirred awake beneath a crisp, cloudless sky, its skyline stretching into a blue so clear it almost seemed intentional¡ªlike the universe had cleared the canvas for something important.


    It was the Company Launch Day for Steele Investments.


    Darren had made sure everything was perfect for today. To be fair, Rachel had done most of the work, but only because she demanded it.


    As for other things that didn''t concern the party itself, he tried to complete every other aspect of the business. Including the system.


    The investment on Apple stocks and the Housing Market came back fruitful. After tax cuts, he claimed $397 million from the Apple investment and $808 million from the Housing Market investment.


    With that, he quickly paid off the renovations loan and was left with a whopping amount of 705 million.


    While he used a lot of it to fund the company launch, Darren added 200 million into the Bitcoin Investment Fund, 100 million into another investment on Apple Stocks Investment Fund, and another 100 million for future solid investments.


    Out of that 100 million, he took out $250,000 and a bonus $100,000 for Mr. Arnold Castle to begin the renovation of Castle Cottage.


    On Tuesday, they had finalized the contract and the system had registered Castle as;


    ----------------------------


    ©³Ally: Arnold Castle


    Company: Castle Cottage Restaurants


    Rank: C (Presently upgrading)


    Information: Although a weak ally, his loyalty and respect for you places him very high.©¿


    ©³Loyalty: 10/10©¿


    -----------------------------


    That meant that Darren was done with the Seeing is Believing Quest, and Start of an Empire would be completed as well once the launch was over.


    The system gave him a 100% performance review and another Character Bonus. Hopefully, he could unlock a new Feature soon.


    With all of that taken care of, the only thing that was left to begin the empire, was the launch of it.


    From every corner of downtown, cars threaded through wide boulevards, honking softly as they entered the Meravaurd Avenue.


    But, regardless of the tall skyscrapers around, All roads, it seemed, led to one place: The Steele Complex.


    From a distance, the Complex resembled a glass jewel nestled amidst a sea of steel giants.


    But unlike the rigid, towering skyscrapers around it, the Steele Complex curved gracefully ¡ª a domed marvel of architectural ambition.


    Its translucent shell caught the sun at angles that made it gleam like it was glowing from within. The sight of it alone made drivers slow down. Pedestrians stopped to stare. It was new, bold, and impossible to ignore.


    [Image]


    Outside, black cars, limos, and private sedans pulled up in elegant procession. Valets in dark uniforms opened doors, ushering guests out into the red-carpeted entrance where hostesses with clipped smiles handed out name tags in polished leather sleeves.


    Paparazzi flashes erupted every now and then, catching a prominent investor or a well-known public figure.


    Darren was surprised by the names Rachel had managed to bring into his part.


    There was Adam Scotland, a man who kept glancing around like he was studying the place jealously. Regina Zurich was here as well, sister of young Zachary Zurich, who ruled the family business. Charles Nelson was there too, sitting stylishly and watching the event.


    Then, most of the time visitors were from Darren''s fanbase as Mr. Duckling. He had done an online invitation where only those who were picked had had a card sent to them by mail.


    Inside the grand atrium, there was warm ambient lighting and soft gold tones. The floor was made of marble and reflected all of the light like a mirror.


    A tour guide was taking some curious individuals around the offices, showing off the areas where the separate activities would be carried out.


    The air was perfumed with cologne, wine, and success.


    A jazz trio in the corner played something light, something vintage, as waiters in white gloves navigated the floor, offering flutes of champagne and delicate hors d''oeuvres served on black trays.


    Other guests moved through the atrium, speaking in hushed, excited voices¡ª introductions made, hands shaken. There was an undercurrent of buzz. Not just celebration. Anticipation.


    Rachel stood near the main networking booth, she was wearing a silk emerald gown, beautiful and kind to her figure. Her hair was styled and curly, perfectly covering one eye like Jessica Rabbit.


    She greeted the familiar faces she had invited, directed curious strangers, and checked that the staff were in place.


    Kara was already at the IT booth with her friend, Miranda, laughing over conversations. Sandy, as expected, had posted up near the finance panel, surrounded by curious investors already.


    This was her area of expertise. Speaking to people, explaining things. She''d done it for years and she did it perfectly today as well.


    Jonathan Vance and Daisy Chen acted more like a guest, since their jobs were mainly outside the business of it. They both sat at the VIP, drinking and smiling.


    Amelia, now fully a part of the company, was the primary touring guide, reading out of a manifesto Rachel made while also adding her input.


    Simon Wilkes, Edward Blane, and Marilyn Standard moved through the crowd like well-oiled gears in the Steele machine, also doing their parts.


    Darren, meanwhile, had already made his rounds outside.


    Now he stood near the central balcony overlooking the hall. He saw some of his college friends amongst the crowd, sitting on a table.


    Tamara Johnstone was there, and so was Alison. He was more surprised to see Eddie Turner. Was he still in Gareth''s company?


    Darren was sure.


    Sophie McClain had met with him up on the balcony. First thing she said with a smile was; "Still no Ava Monroe?"


    Darren chuckled. "I mean... this isn''t enough?"


    She looked down at the crowd. "It is. To be fair, you''ve done something wonderful here, Darren." Then she looked at him. "But it''s still no Ava Monroe."


    They laughed.


    "Let me run your story," she insisted over her glass of rose?. "The rise of Steele Investments. Brooklyn is already busy interviewing all the guests."


    Darren smiled faintly, watching the blonde hair beauty scurrying about with her blue pencil skirt, the microphone in her hand and her poor cameraman trying to keep up.


    "Just like her. Always eager to tell the news." He then looked at Sophie. "So what''s the deal? Is she signed exclusively to your magazine yet?"


    Sophie sighed. "No. Not yet. We''re still just partners. She can upload her stories to other media if she wishes. What Brooklyn values now is her freedom it seems. Especially after Business Everyday."


    "Hmm." Darren noted.


    "What?"


    He shrugged. "Don''t tell her but I''m thinking of hiring her as my PR manager."


    Sophie smiled knowingly. "Another one. Gosh, Darren. You don''t get satisfied, do you?"


    Darren raised a brow. "What does that mean?"


    But Sophie was already leaving.


    "Hey. Soph."


    "What did she want?"


    Darren quickly turned to his side and saw Rachel standing beside him. He looked back, Sophie had already disappeared into the elevator, smirking at him as it closed.


    "Nothing, I think she was just insinuating that I surround myself with a lot of women," he replied.


    Rachel didn''t look at him. "Well, isn''t it true?"


    He looked at her.


    She looked at him.


    He creased her brows.


    Hers remained straight.


    "Are you ready for your speech?" she asked softly.


    "Well, not if you''re making me nervous."


    Rachel chuckled. "I''m sorry, sir. I was only pulling your legs."


    Darren exhaled. "I really did not expect such a crowd. Almost everyone is here, everyone I¡ª"


    He stopped talking, recognizing the scent of a perfume that he could not mistake.


    It was jasmine and sandalwood ¡ª delicate, layered, haunting.


    He turned sharply, eyes narrowed.


    There, just beneath the edge of the staircase, stood Lily.


    She looked stunning, if a little lost. Her eyes had been staring at him for a while now, wide and heavy with unspoken weight.


    "Please Darren..." she stepped closer, voice barely audible over the music. "Please..."


    Darren stared at her.


    "Can we just talk?"

 Chapter 119: Company Launch! (2): Petals of a Lily

    Rachel half-pivoted, taking a good hard look at Lily''s pitiful face, yet feeling no pity at all. At least, that was what one would assume, given her extremely bland expression.


    She turned to Darren and made a face that asked if he would be fine. Darren''s eyes left Lily for a moment and looked down at Rachel. Then he nodded, assuring her he''d be fine.


    "Go," he said.


    "Okay," Rachel whispered, then catwalked down the corridor and into the elevator. As the doors were closing, she gave Lily a cold, warning stare with her eye of steel.


    Lily gulped, then looked away.


    Darren then turned to her, hands in pockets. "What do you want?"


    She looked at him, eyes quivering. "How can you say that? What do you think I want?" She stopped closer. "Darren, we haven''t talked. At all."


    His gaze was heartless. "Isn''t that the point? I don''t want to talk to you."


    "Please Darren," her eyes saddened. She lifted her hand and rested it on his chest. Darren looked down apathetically. "I''ve never been more lonely. Please. Let me... Let me explain everything."


    He raised a brow. Then, saying nothing, took one hand out of his pocket and used it to take her hand off his chest. Carefully too.


    "You knew I liked you, and maybe you liked me too. But obviously not as much as I did. You took advantage of my feelings for you. You and your father." He stood straight. "What else is there to tell?"


    "But that was the only way I could be with you," she said desperately. "He wouldn''t... Dad wouldn''t let me date if I didn''t agree."


    "You''re 23, Lily," Darren snapped coldly. "That would have been an acceptable excuse if you were a teenager, not a grown adult. You''re the one choosing to let your father control you. You''re the one who chose to lie to me, and deceive me all my life¡ª"


    Lily narrowed her eyes in shock, fear maybe. Darren''s reaction was too guttural, and way more raw than she''d expected.


    "You''re the one who chose to cheat on me," he added in a whisper that was almost meant to be a yell.


    She frowned. "Cheat on you?" she said in a confused, broken voice. "Darren? What are you talking about¡ª? I never... I never cheated on you."


    Darren ran a palm through his hair. "Yeah, not now you haven''t."


    Lily only got more confused. "Darren, what are you saying?"


    He exhaled, slipping the hand back into his pocket. As much as Darren hated to admit it, even now, Lily was still able to get a reaction out of him now.


    He''d spent 10 years with this girl. Ups, downs. Maybe a lot more downs than ups but they had been together for the most part of it.


    But... to think, to believe, to know that all of it had all been orchestrated by her father to keep him tied in as a puppet ¡ª to keep him obedient and respectful ¡ª that was something he could never forget. Or forgive.


    "And what are you going to do then?" he said to her, voice like toxic smoke. "If I ever did forgive you. What would your father say, hmm? Wouldn''t he ask you to get me on his side once again, to try to manipulate me into benefiting him. Maybe he''ll say that''s the only way he can allow you to be around me."


    Darren chuckled. "And of course you''ll listen to him. Of course you would. Cause you''ll always do what your dad tells you even if it means hurting the ones you claim to love. And then you expect them to forgive you because there''s some sort of guilt shift. Because you think you were coerced to do the horrible things you''ve done. You think you''re as innocent as the flower you''re named after. Pfft... Give me a break, Lily."


    He stepped back, while Lily, gazing up at him, had the most broken face ever. Her blue eyes had turned oceanic, wetness gathering at the edges.


    "There pretty much wasn''t anything I wouldn''t do for you," Darren continued, looking at nothing. Then he looked at her. "And you took advantage of that. There was barely anything you would do for me. But maybe we can change that."


    He turned fully to her, standing face to face, looking down at her shivering body and frightened eyes.


    "For the first time in your life, do something for me. Get out of my face and never come close to me again."


    Heart break.


    It was almost audible. In Lily''s chest, a crack had just spiderwebbed straight down the middle of her heart, and the fragments burnt in her chest.


    "Darre¡ª" she tried to speak. But that was a bad idea, because it caused the dam to leak and tears fell down her cheeks. She pressed her lips thin and upwards, like she accepted her fate.


    "Okay," she whispered.


    Darren just looked at her. Showing nothing.


    Lily tilted her head pitifully. "Okay," she repeated, turned around and hurried away from the sight of others, into the other elevator.


    Darren watched her leave, silent and conserved, hands still in his pockets, chest high. He exhaled softly, then lost sight of her.


    Ding!


    ©³System has discerned a spike in host''s emotional state©¿


    Darren didn''t react to that. He only turned around and headed to the elevator.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve earned a Character Bonus!©¿


    Downstairs, on the main arena, the hum of conversation dipped as the MC of the occasion stepped forward.


    Rachel.


    She moved to the stage and welcomed everyone with grace. She kept it short¡ª just enough warmth to earn attention, just enough poise to hand it off.


    "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Rachel Teschmacher, some of you know me and some of you don''t. Those that do know me, recognize me as the former secretary of the presently infamous Gareth Smithers, and the daughter of the even more infamous Teschmacher family."


    There was laughter.


    "So what am I doing here, you might ask. Well, I''m here because I believe in the vision of my boss, Mr. Darren Steele. Some might look at his plans and call them outrageous, meaningless, risky. But that''s what we''re going to do here in Steele Investments. Success doesn''t come easy. However, it might if you''re been pioneered by my boss, the center of attention today, the most brilliant and most captivating person I''ve ever met, Darren Steele!"


    Rounds of applause filled the atrium as Darren sauntered into the stage.

 Chapter 120 120: Company Launch! (3)

    He had a corporate smile on his face, almost like everything that had just happened never did.


    Sharing a hug with Rachel, he took the microphone and stood on the podium. He was in a black tailored suit, the overhead lights catching his silver tie pin.


    "Well..." he turned his head to Rachel as she left. "I would first like to thank my secretary for such excellent flattery. I mean, isn''t she just the best hype woman?"


    A few cheers, chuckles and applause followed that.


    Darren beamed at her, and she ¡ª standing with hands folded ¡ª beamed back.


    Then he turned back to the crowd. "Yes, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Darren Steele. I am the son of a mechanic, Henry Steele, and a saleswoman, Pamela Steele."


    He looked at his mother at the VIP who smiled at him and waved.


    "And yes, I''m 21 years old, and yes you all think I''m a bit over my head. Some of you think I''m just lucky. Some of you think I''m a secret crime boss. I mean there must be some explanation as to why I made so much money regardless of my humble beginnings.


    "The answer is and will also be numbers. To many of you they''re simply tools for calculations, for counting, for extravagance as well." He adjusted his stance. "But they''re also logic. They''re embedded into every thing, every action. They are probabilities, they are stereotypes and they are statistics. Everything we believe, we believe it because the numbers back it up. Trends, demand, supply, profit, exchange, loss. Everything is numbers."


    "Which is why I understand the marketplace, the world of business and finance more than many. I see the numbers all in front of me."


    At that moment, as he spoke, the system''s interface appeared before him, showing him the current trends in the market. Graphs, diagrams, numbers and calculations of stock, digital assets and real estates.


    And of course, no one else could see it.


    "I''m not here to flatter myself, Rachel has already done that for me," he placed a hand on his chest.


    More laughter.


    "But I''ve always been great with numbers. Now I see them in a manner that no one else can. And this is what I plan to pioneer this company with¡ª"


    Noises interrupted him.


    It came from the entrance, a sudden burst of chaos slicing through the hum of the Steele Complex atrium. Flashes of light erupted like tiny explosions, the paparazzi''s cameras clicking in a frenzy as heads swiveled toward the door.


    A murmur rippled through the crowd, curiosity giving way to awe as a stunning woman stepped into the dome.


    Flash! Flash!


    The camera lights struck and struck. Brooklyn was also amongst the fray, directing her cameraman to join in to take pictures. Even other guests had picked up their phones and started taking pictures too.


    Darren knew that there was only one guest that would draw so much attention. He had been waiting and almost thought she wouldn''t even make it.


    But she actually did.


    Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux had arrived.


    Once she stepped inside, it was like frost magic had followed her feet and engulfed the entire space with ice. She sent chills through everyone''s spine.


    "Holy shit. Is that really her?"


    "That''s Cheyenne Lamb!"


    Alison, Sophie, Tamara and Eddie turned their heads in their seats.


    Charles Nelson, quietly enjoying himself with wine, ignored the lady trying to get his attention and looked at the entrance.


    Adam Scotland, eyes narrowed with disbelief, also had turned his head.


    Cheyenne moved with the grace of a panther, each step deliberate, her tall frame accentuated by a gown that could only be described as a masterpiece.


    The dress was a deep, regal purple crafted from shimmering silk that clung to her figure before flowing into a subtle train behind her. The bodice was intricately embroidered with silver thread, catching the ambient light and casting faint glimmers across the room, while the neckline plunged just enough to hint at daring elegance.


    The sleeves were sheer, tapering to her wrists, where a single amethyst bracelet gleamed against her fair skin. Her short, bow-cut hair, black with streaks of silver, framed her face like a crown, and those piercing silver eyes scanned the room with the same ice that she had engulfed everyone with.


    She barely ever smiled, and even though her red lips were slightly curved. It looked more like a glare than everything.


    All the attention had left Darren now and was all hers.


    Darren understood that this was her tactic. She was making a statement, coming in exactly when he was making a speech to make it clear that she was the powerful one ¡ª the most influential.


    He didn''t know why she had to do it. He already understood that she was. Nevertheless, it was like those in power to always remind others that they were above them.


    He also didn''t mind her getting all the attention. With a face and body like that, she reserved it.


    Cheyenne was strikingly beautiful, a vision of power and poise. Even in her late thirties, the age only lended her an air of seasoned allure that younger faces could only aspire to.


    Her body was like an hourglass made human, and she moved under the lavender gown like she was hovering not walking.


    The crowd parted instinctively as she advanced, hushed whispers and admiring stares filled the fall. Waiters paused mid-step, trays hovering, and even the pianist began to play a soft, climatic music in deference to her arrival.


    She carried no purse, no fuss ¡ª just an aura of untouchable wealth and control, the richest woman in Calivernia stepping into Darren''s world like she owned it.


    Then her gaze found him. At the center of the atrium, before all the suits and gowns, Cheyenne turned her head, and her silver eyes locked onto Darren''s.


    The look she gave him was cold, sharp, and knowing ¡ª a blade wrapped in velvet, as if she''d already measured him and found something worth dissecting.


    Darren knew it wasn''t anger, nothing like that. In fact, this very action Cheyenne made, led him to understand just the type of woman she was.


    The type who always wanted to be in control.


    He smiled back at her glare.

 Chapter 121 121: Company Launch! (4): Grants Dilemma

    Meanwhile, some distance away in one of the wealthier residential streets in Los Alverez, the Hayes Mansion stood like a monument to ambition, perched on a sprawling estate just outside the city''s bustling core.


    It was a big building, almost similar to Darren''s in size, although a bit more grand with a facade that blended old-world aesthetics with modern opulence.


    Ivory stone walls climbing three stories, manicured gardens stretched out in every direction, their hedges sculpted into precise geometric patterns, while fountains murmured softly, their waters catching the glow of discreetly placed lanterns.


    Past the multiple black SUV''s and a particular beautiful red sports car, inside the mansion was where the main business was going on.


    In the living room, a cavernous space with mahogany paneling and a fireplace large enough to roast an ox, ten men in expensive suits gathered in a loose semicircle.


    Their attire screamed wealth, some wore tailored Brioni jackets, cashmere, goldenweave, Herme?s ties, and cufflinks that glinted silver, some gold.


    These men were all surrounding one man who sat on the long couch, staring down at the paper on the table.


    Grant Hayes, the young heir to the Golden Hay Empire, his boyish face taut with strain.


    Today, like always, his light brown hair was neatly combed, his suit pristine, but also like other days, his eyes were tired.


    They were wide and uncertain, darting between the men as if searching for an anchor.


    These were his father''s men: advisors, partners, and employees who''d served Albert Hayes and the Hayes family for decades.


    Among them was Gillian Henderson, a young 24 year old with a shark''s smile, who had also inherited his father''s string of casinos and clubs, Diablo Del Ri?o.


    His family, the Hendersons had been a longtime ally of the Hayes family and, ostensibly, he was Grant''s friend.


    There clearly had been a long enough conversation in the room as the air was now very thick with the scent of cigar smoke and aged whiskey, glasses clinking softly as the men leaned in, their voices smooth and practiced.


    "Grant," began Vector Callahan, a silver-haired advisor with a voice like polished oak, "we''ve been over the numbers. The Golden Hayes is too vast for one man to steer alone. Splitting the branches into separate entities ¡ª hotels under one leadership, casinos another, theme parks a third ¡ª streamlines operations. It''s decentralization done right. Each sector gets laser-focused management, optimized for profit."


    "Exactly," chimed in Roland Fisk, a portly partner with a Rolex that caught the firelight. "Think of it as portfolio diversification on a corporate scale. You''re not losing control, not at all. See, you''re empowering specialists to maximize ROI. The hotels alone could see a 15% EBITDA bump in two years with dedicated oversight. And then what about the casinos? They''ll be even higher, given the gaming market''s trajectory."


    Grant shifted in his seat, fingers drumming on the armrest. His mind churned, picturing his father''s face¡ª stern, certain, never wavering. "But... It''s always been one company. One vision," he said, his voice quieter than he intended.


    Callahan nodded, as if granting a child''s point. "And it still will be, in spirit. But the market''s changed, Grant. Conglomerates are unwieldy, too many moving parts. See, we have the chance to challenge for the position of an Empire Company if we do things right here. The Bordeaux Corporation is losing their grip so we must act now."


    Another added. "By allocating leadership to each branch, you''re future-proofing the empire. MWMO''s ready to back this, you know. Their restructuring model''s airtight¡ª projected synergies could net you an extra $2 billion in valuation by 2012."


    "MWMO''s the gold standard," added Leonard Tate, a gaunt man with a lawyer''s precision. "Their track record with restructurings is unmatched. Look at the Sinclair Group¡ª post-split, their market cap doubled in 18 months. You''d retain oversight as chairman, Grant. You''re not stepping away; you''re elevating the whole operation."


    Gillian Henderson leaned forward, swirling his whiskey with a casual grin. "Come on, Grant, buddy. This takes the weight off your shoulders. You''re juggling a dozen balls at once. Let some of these guys catch a few. You''ll sleep better, trust me."


    Grant''s gaze dropped to the papers on the coffee table, a contract thick with legalese.


    ''Is this... the right move?''


    His chest tightened. He knew he was supposed to trust these men, they worked for his father after all.


    Their logic was ironclad, their numbers dazzling. But it felt like carving up his father''s soul. "Sagomoto Wealth Offices," he mumbled, almost to himself. "They had a good idea. Consolidate, not split. Why didn''t we agree to a deal with them?"


    The men exchanged glances, a flicker of impatience passing between them.


    Callahan cleared his throat. "You''re still on about that? Grant, Sagomoto Offices is small-time. Their plan was a pipe dream. It was too conservative, no scalability. MWMO''s got the muscle to align with our vision. They''re the ones who''ll execute."


    "But it''s not our vision," Grant said, his voice sharpening. "It''s mine. My father''s."


    Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. The men looked at one another again, their expressions coded.


    Grant stood abruptly, slipping his hand nervously into his pockets. "Uhmm... I need air... for a moment," he muttered, striding toward the French doors that led to the porch.


    Once he got outside, he took in a deep breath of the day''s air, the vast estate stretching before him like a kingdom he barely understood.


    He gazed at all of it, at the rolling lawns, the distant sways of trees, the cars, the gate, the fountain.


    Everything his father had built beyond just this ¡ª hotels that touched the sky, casinos pulsing with life, parks where families laughed ¡ª was his now.


    The pressure was... suffocating.


    "Dad," Grant whispered, the word dissolving into the dark. "I wish you were here."


    After a while, when he got no response, he exhaled defeatedly. "I really need someone to talk to."


    Then, his head lowered and got a glimpse of the paper in his chest pocket. Grant pulled it out.


    It was an invitation to the Steele Investments launch party, one he received days ago. He knew he would be busy today so he couldn''t come.


    But now... Grant thought about it.


    He glanced at the letter, then at his Bentley parked nearby. Then back at the letter, then the car.


    Inside, the men were regrouping. Callahan leaned toward Gillian, his voice low. "He''s stalling. You''re close to him so push harder. We need his signature."


    Gillian waved a hand, all easy confidence. "Relax, relax. He adores me. It''s just a matter of ti¡ª"


    The sound engine roaring to life caught him off.


    Gillian''s eyes narrowed, then widened. "No, no. Grant?" He bolted for the door, the others scrambling behind.


    They spilled onto the porch.


    "Grant! Grant! What are you doing?" Gillian yelled.


    But the billionaire heir drove down the driveway, and left the mansion, the invitation crumpled in his hand.


    Minutes later, he pulled into the Steele Complex, only admiring the glass dome for a moment.


    At this point, the launch party was in full swing, and he slipped inside just as the crowd''s attention shifted back to the stage.


    Darren had just said something witty and inviting to welcome Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux after her dramatic entrance moments earlier.


    Grant lingered near the back, his suit slightly rumpled, but his eyes were completely plastered to the stage as the man speaking was the exact person he''d come here to see.


    "And as I was saying..." Darren continued with his speech, his voice carrying through the atrium, clear and steady, every word laced with conviction.


    "My gift is what I intend to pioneer this company with. Steele Investments isn''t only about making wealth," he said, his eyes scanning the room, connecting with faces one by one. "It''s about belief. Belief in a future where one respects their own conviction, their own gut over someone else''s. Where others can follow trends and create theirs from it."


    He paused, letting the words settle. "Today, I introduce to you Rachel Teschmacher, Kara DeAndre, Sandy Meyers, Simon Wilkes, Marilyn Standard, Amelia Forrest, Jonathan Vance, Daisy Chen, Kaito Sagomoto, Andy Nashville, Edward Blane, and Miranda Sloane. The OG team of Steele Investments."


    Each of them smiled or raised a glass when they were called.


    "We''re launching more than a company. We''re launching a promise. A promise to take the unknown and make it ours. To turn volatility into opportunity. And you''re all invited to witness it."


    The room erupted in applause, glasses raised, faces lit with admiration and cheers.


    Grant watched it all, unknowingly smiling. He clutched the invitation in his pocket, while his eyes remained fixed on Darren Steele.


    "I really need to talk to that guy."

 Chapter 122: Company Launch (5)

    As the applause continued, the lights dimmed, and the noise slowly died down. Then, a giant screen came alive with cascading digital visuals: bits flowing, vaults opening, assets spinning into coded orbits.


    LAUNCHING...


    Then, boom! A simulated interface exploded on screen with a bold message:


    WELCOME TO STEELE INVESTMENTS.


    The lights returned. Louder applause filled everywhere. The launch was finally official.


    Amongst the crowd, Brooklyn Baker stepped in after the visual, holding a mic and a knowing smile which Darren replied to with a smirk.


    "Some quick questions, Mr. Steele," she teased.


    "If it''s for you, Miss Baker, why not?"


    The rest of the Steele Complex atrium was engulfed with noise. The crowd had dispersed into clusters, drawn to the lavish spread laid out across long tables draped in white linen.


    Plates gleamed with offerings: seared scallops drizzled with lemon herb sauce, tenderloin medallions paired with roasted figs, and vibrant salads dotted with edible flowers.


    Dessert stations beckoned with tiers of macarons, chocolate truffles, and slices of velvet cake. Overhead, the Steele Investments logo ¡ª a stylized speeding "S" woven with digital threads ¡ª glowed on massive LED screens, pulsing subtly to remind everyone whose day this was.


    Conversations hummed, a symphony of clinking glasses, laughter, and the low murmur of deals being whispered. Investors leaned in close, media reps scribbled notes, and Darren''s team worked the room with diligence.


    After the interview with Brooklyn, Darren stepped down from the podium, his suit still crisp despite the heat of the spotlight.


    As he moved through the crowd, shaking hands and nodding at compliments, his gaze snagged on Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux.


    He could swear that her eyes hadn''t left him since she got here. It was sharp and stern, scrutinizing him.


    She sipped a glass of wine with the poise of royalty, but still didn''t look away. A slice of chocolate cake sat before her, untouched save for a single delicate bite.


    Darren''s lips twitched into a half-smile, undeterred, before he turned to greet another guest.


    Time slipped by, the atrium alive with the clatter of plates and the soft strains of a pianist weaving through the air.


    Cheyenne, her wineglass now empty, rose from her chair, fluid and purposeful. She intended to corner Darren, who was now in the midst of yet another interview with Brooklyn Baker, although this time it looked like he was flirting the way they were both smiling.


    But as she stepped forward, another figure surged into her path.


    Grant Hayes, his suit slightly askew, his face flushed with urgency had nearly collided with Miss Lamb.


    He stopped short as her towering frame loomed.


    She turned, her silver eyes narrowing to slits.


    Grant nodded respectfully. "I''m so sorry, Miss Lamb. I didn''t see you."


    Her brow arched, recognition dawning. "I know you. You''re the son. The one who inherited Albert''s fortune."


    He nodded, managing a sheepish smile. "Yeah, that''s me. It''s an honor to meet you, Miss Lamb."


    She tilted her head, studying him like a chessboard. "I''m surprised to find you here. You were invited?"


    "Yes, though not directly by the CEO himself," Grant said, his tone earnest. "If you don''t mind, I really need to go see him before I lose hold of him again."


    Cheyenne''s lips parted, a desperate scoff masquerading as a chuckle. "You want to go speak with him?" Her voice dripped with disbelief, her gaze flicking toward Darren''s direction. "You''re walking past me... to speak with him?"


    Grant frowned, innocent confusion creasing his brow. "I''m sorry, but is there a problem, Miss Lamb?"


    She blinked, her composure faltering for a fraction of a second. "No. No. Do carry on."


    "Thank you," he said, already moving on.


    But when he glanced toward Darren''s spot, the space was empty. Darren had slipped away.


    Again!


    "No, no, no," Grant muttered, panic creeping in. "Where did he go?" He darted toward the stairs, weaving through the crowd, his eyes scanning for any sign of the man who kept escaping him like a ghost.


    Cheyenne stood rooted, her arms crossed, disbelief etching lines into her flawless face.


    She was Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux, CEO of an Empire Company, her wealth measured in billions upon billions. Heads of state sought her counsel; markets shifted on her whims.


    If Grant Hayes wanted to speak to anyone about anything... it should be her. She had seen how alight with reverence his eyes were for a 21-year-old upstart investor.


    Why?


    The audacity stung, bruising her pride. But she exhaled sharply, her fingers brushing the amethyst bracelet on her wrist and at the same time, brushing away the thought.


    Then, she turned toward the exit where she knew Darren was.


    Outside, she found him standing near a cluster of more interviewers and what seemed like fans. She was with her bodyguards so no one dared come close to her, yet she did feel annoyed by the attention he was getting.


    Cheyenne''s heels clicked against the pavement as she approached him. "Mr. Steele," she called, her tone clipped. "It''s time to meet your end of the bargain. The Pendulum. You have 30 minutes. Don''t be late."


    She turned toward her custom Rolls-Royce Phantom, but just as she was about to enter, Darren stopped her with his response.


    "No."


    She paused, one foot on the pavement, and turned slowly. "What?"


    "I''m not coming," he said, his tone even, almost playful.


    Her silver eyes flared slightly and she fully turned to face him. "You dare?"


    Darren was unfazed. "I do. I do dare."


    "We had a deal, Mr. Steele," she said.


    Darren got closer, hands in his pockets, acting calm even though her aura was a bit terrifying. "And you chose to try to make a mockery out of me. Coming in at the time you did. Your move to exact dominance worked like a charm. But I realized something."


    He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "I have a move too. I don''t know what it is yet, but you need me for something, and you seem desperate. So no. I refuse."


    Cheyenne said nothing but glared silently and even calmly at him.


    "Everyone knows you''re stronger, more influential than I am," he continued. "You didn''t need to prove it. But until you''re ready to admit that needing my help puts us on near-equal footing, I''m not ready to be your business gigolo. Till then, it''s a no for me, Miss Cheyenne Lamb."


    He held her gaze a moment longer, then backpedaled in a taunting style before turning to walk away.


    Cheyenne''s jaw tightened, a retort forming, but before she could speak, a woman, young, 19 at most with blond hair and a beautiful pink dress appeared holding a box.


    "Hey, Mister Darren!"


    Darren spun around, and his heart lurched.


    Penelope stood there, holding a slightly lopsided box, her face a mix of sheepish pride and nervous excitement.


    "Penelope," Darren muttered with a softer voice. "You''re so late. The party''s basically over."


    She bit her lip, a happy-sad expression on her face. "I know. I spent the whole day trying to make you a cake, but the oven broke, and Dad took forever to fix it, and then I ran out of eggs."


    Darren''s smile widened, genuine and unguarded. She raised the box high, a little triumph in her gesture. "Cake?"


    He glanced at the box, then back at her.


    And even though he''d already eaten his fill of the delicacy back inside, he couldn''t say no.


    "I''d love to," he said. He took the box from her and slung an arm over her shoulder. "Let''s go sit somewhere and eat it."


    They walked toward the nearby park, laughter ringing out as he cracked a joke.


    Cheyenne watched them leave, the angry frown deepening. But as she watched, something shifted, her shoulders softened, her eyes dimmed in an almost sad manner.


    She exhaled defeatedly, rubbing her temple as if to banish a thought, and shook her head. "Take me home," she said to her driver.

 Chapter 123: First Day of Work (1)

    ''Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! It''s me, your favorite independent reporter, Brooklyn Baker. By the time this story reaches your eyes and my voice graces your mind, you must be feeling that wonderful breeze of a new dawn. The mellow warmth of the sun, the golden droplets of rays, and the sound of everyone beginning their day. Don''t you feel like it''s the start of something new?''


    ''Something great? A bigger chapter?''


    ''Well, if you''re feeling that way, then you must know that Steele Investments officially launched only a few days ago, and today, the genesis day of the month, marks the official first workday for the company.''


    ''The launch was nothing short of spectacular. It was a day that pulsed with promise under the glass dome of the Steele Complex. Investors, media, and luminaries filled the atrium, their glasses raised to a future carved by ambition.''


    ''Even Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux, the formidable CEO of an Empire Company, The Bordeaux Corporation, made a guest appearance, her presence only proved the gravity of the moment.''


    ''So what questions do we have for Steele Investments? They say it''s a bold bet on digital frontiers, with Bitcoin at its present core and a vision that stretches far beyond. They plan to redefine wealth creation through strategic crypto investments, tech innovation, and high-stakes ventures that demand courage as much as capital.''


    ''I had the chance to talk to the CEO, Darren Steele, the 21-year-old wunderkind who''s already rewriting the rules. He had quite a lot of things to say regarding this startup company. This is a story unfolding, ladies and gentlemen, and we''re all watching to see where it leads.''


    -----


    Vrooomm!!


    Darren''s Aston Martin One-77 purred into view, rolling to a stop before the Steele Complex.


    Ding! Ding! The car sang once he turned it off and stepped out.


    The moment the sole of his shoe hit the ground, it was like a slow motion button had been turned on somewhere and the whole scene narrowed on him.


    He was wearing a deep charcoal suit with a slim cut that accentuated his tall, lean frame.


    Inside was a crisp white shirt and a silk tie in midnight blue, completing the look. His dark brown hair was neatly styled, and as he adjusted his cufflinks ¡ª a subtle flash of silver ¡ª he walked towards his company with ego and confidence, knowing he was the one who built it.


    Ding!


    ©³Congratulations! You have completed Monthly Quest: Start of an Empire!©¿


    ©³Reward: Trendsetter¡ª Trendsetter is a high-tier System Reward granted to the host and grants him the ability to initiate or capitalize on emerging markets before they reach mainstream adoption. It identifies the bearer as a visionary, someone capable of influencing widespread change or interest simply by their involvement.©¿


    ©³Congratulations! You have completed Monthly Quest: Seeing is Believing!©¿


    ©³Reward: Asset Alchemist ¡ª Any solid asset you invest in gets a subtle +10¨C15% baseline return boost over time due to optimized decision-making, minor luck shifts, and unseen variables working in his favor. This also includes risk reduction protocol.©¿


    Darren read the notifications, taking a mental note as he arrived at the Complex''s entrance where two guards from Argent Security stood sentinel, their black uniforms crisp and imposing.


    "Morning, Mr. Steele," one said, his voice respectful as they both pulled open the glass door.


    "Morning, gentlemen," Darren replied, nodding as he passed through.


    Ding!


    ©³It is advisable to check your Profile Status at the start of every month.©¿


    Darren nodded slightly. He remembered the system telling him the exact thing last month. Seems monthly check ups was the best way to keep note of his growth.


    With a thought, he opened his status window. The familiar panel unfolded before him.


    ---------------------------------------


    ©³Host Profile: Darren Steele©¿


    ©³Age: 21©¿


    ©³Assets:


    ¡ª Cash: $705,666,000 (Checking)


    ¡ª Personal Belongings: $230,670,600©¿


    ©³Liabilities:


    ¡ª Debt Free©¿


    ©³Net Worth: (Assets Minus Liabilities)


    ¡ª $936,336,600 - $0.00 = $936,336,600©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Active Investments: BTC, Apple©¿


    ©³Business Owned: Steele Investments©¿


    ©³Portfolio Summary:


    ¡ª Stocks: Apple (Sold) Currently Investing...


    ¡ª Cryptocurrency: $1,500,000


    ¡ª Physical Assets: Aston Martin One-77, The Steele Complex, Greenbaby Mansion No. 147©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Expenditure Log©¿


    ©³Monthly Expenditure:


    ¡ª Money Gained: $1,780,187,000


    ¡ª Money Spent: $1,076,521,000©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Reputation Tracker©¿


    ©³Public Reception: Hottest Newbie Investor©¿


    ©³Rivals'' Fear: Smithers Group - Very Scared: Will Remain Cooperative.


    Moon Wealth Management Offices - Careful: Mindful of Their Moves But Still Plotting Takedown.©¿


    ©³Allies'' Loyalty: Leonard Holloway (A+)


    Sophie McClain (C+)


    Arnold Castle (A+)©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Financial Milestones©¿


    ©³First $1B Net Worth: Locked©¿


    ©³First Profitable Investment: Unlocked©¿


    ©³First Business Acquisition: Locked©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Legacy Counter©¿


    ©³Jobs Created: 105©¿


    ©³Companies Disrupted: 2©¿


    ©³Rivals Defeated: 1©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Quests©¿


    ©³Weekly Quest:


    ¡ª Strong Start: Begin your first week strong by finding a hidden gem in poor startups and investing in them. Reward for this quest is high tier.©¿


    ©³Monthly Quest:


    ¡ª Power of an Alliance: Secure an alliance with a high profile business person or family. A single spark can light a fire. So you must convince one high-profile figure to publicly endorse Steele Investments and be a new Ally by month''s end.


    ¡ª Outmaneuver a Rival: Wolves circle. Thwart one competitor''s move against Steele Investments by month''s end. Rivals are richer, and digging for dirt risks legal pushback. You must act subtly but quickly to avoid alienating allies.©¿


    -------------------------------------------------


    ©³Congratulations, you have Unlocked an Achievement!©¿


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Master of the Business.


    ¡ª What an incredible month this was for you! Everything went according to your vision and you''ve created a startup company that has everyone talking about you. Can you do it again this month? Let''s see!©¿


    --------------------------------------


    With his hands in his pockets, Darren read everything with an expressionless face. ''Pretty much the usual,'' he thought. ''But these monthly quests sure are interesting. The weekly one too, though it is going to be difficult. I wonder what popular company in the former timeline is having difficult issues now as a startup.''


    ''Hmm. Maybe Netflix.''


    Through the purple interface of the Investor System, the scene before him was the spectacle he''d always dreamed of.


    Although he didn''t notice it at first, with a "huh," his eyes finally realized what he was seeing and it hit him like a wave.

 Chapter 124: First Day of Work (2)

    Through the purple interface of the Investor System, the scene before him was the spectacle he''d always dreamed of.


    Although he didn''t notice it at first, with a "huh," his eyes finally realized what he was seeing and it hit him like a wave.


    The atrium was alive: employees darted between workstations, phones rang in a staccato rhythm, and screens flickered with real-time market data.


    Assistants carried stacks of documents, analysts huddled over laptops, and the air hummed with purpose.


    Back when he was at Smithers Group, Darren had been one of these busy bees, grinding under someone else''s vision. Now, he was the architect, he was the boss of every soul in this room.


    Before he could take it all in, Rachel''s voice cut through the din.


    She cat walked toward him, her navy blazer and pencil skirt as sharp as her focus, a file tucked under one arm and a leather jotter in hand. Her auburn hair was styled in its usual style, and her uncovered eye sparkled with the kind of energy that thrived on chaos.


    "Sir! Good morning," she said, her tone bright but all business. "You''re right on time."


    "Morning, Rach," Darren said, matching her pace as they moved toward the elevators. "So... How''s the day going so far?"


    She launched in without missing a beat, flipping open her jotter.


    "Like you''d expect, it''s a whirlwind, but we''re on track. Simon Wilkes, he''s been very busy. When he came in today, he gave the analytical team a quick project for an investment startup."


    "He is a straightforward man, isn''t he," Darren remarked, hands in pockets.


    "That he is. He already flagged some discrepancies in the Q2 projections for our secondary crypto portfolio. He''s running a Monte Carlo simulation to stress-test volatility assumptions, but... he says he needs your sign-off on reallocating 5% of the liquidity pool to hedge against a potential dip in Bitcoin futures."


    "My sign-off. He''s already moving fast. Very fast." Darren nodded, processing. "I like it. He''ll get the sign off. The strategy is already solid enough. What about the Apple stocks? Is the purchase complete?"


    Rachel''s lips quirked, anticipating the question. "Amelia and Sandy are on it. The fund transfer''s in progress and it should be cleared by EOD. Amelia''s playing it smart: she''s staggering the buy to avoid spiking the bid-ask spread. Sandy''s crunching the numbers to optimize our entry point, targeting a 3% discount on the 50-day moving average. If the market holds, we''ll lock in 10,000 more shares by Friday."


    "Good call," Darren said, stepping into the elevator as the doors slid open. Rachel followed.


    "Was that all Sandy''s call?" he asked her.


    "Of course. You''re the one who hired her, you know what she can do."


    "That is true. I do."


    "There is something else, sir," she continued, flipping through her jotter. "We''ve got a meeting with the compliance team at 11 to review SEC filings for the new fund structure. Oh, and Charles Nelson called."


    Darren''s brow shot up. "Charles Nelson? The Charles Nelson who runs Nelson Banks?"


    "The very one," Rachel said, a glint in her eye. "He''s sniffing around for a venture capital play. Says he''s interested in investing in our company ¡ª our goals, our vision."


    Darren leaned against the elevator wall, his mind racing. "Venture capital," he said thoughtfully. "Well... if it is a venture capital he''s after, then it means he''s looking for a good return. I mean a venture capital entails he''ll have to pour money into us early, help us scale fast ¡ª new hires, tech, maybe even a full investment funding. But in return, he''ll want a piece of the pie."


    He glanced at Rachel. "Shares, I''m guessing. A hefty chunk, considering he''s a Nelson."


    Rachel nodded, flipping a page in her jotter. "Exactly. He also asked if you''ve considered a company bank."


    That caused Darren to smirk.


    Once they reached the top floor, the elevator dinged. "He wants Nelson Bank as our company bank," Darren said with a purse of his lips. "Do they even have any vaults left?"


    "I''m sure they do," Rachel said, chuckling.


    He stepped out, heading toward his office. "Honestly, I''ve barely thought about it. But Nelson Bank''s not a bad choice. I''ll need to arrange a meeting with him. Charles Nelson is a respectable guy so I''m certain we can come to a deal. The venture capital and his bank pitch doesn''t have to be separate deals. I''ll see if I can bundle it. No need to split hairs."


    Rachel nodded in concurrence. "That''s smart."


    They reached his office, Darren''s own powerful space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city''s skyline.


    He sank into his leather chair, running his palms over the polished oak desk, remembering what he and Rachel had done to it a few days ago.


    "Kara," he said, shifting gears. "Was she successful with the recruitment of computer talents?"


    "Very," Rachel replied. "She secured twenty. A mix of coders, data scientists, and simple computer savvys. They''re onboarding as we speak."


    "Twenty''s solid," Darren said, leaning back. "I''ll head to the room soon to brief them. Operations start today¡ª no delays."


    Rachel nodded, then paused. Standing there, an unbeatable smile began to stretch below her nose.


    "Do you feel it?" she asked, her voice softer now. "That excitement in the air? I mean, I can''t be the only one who does."


    Darren''s gaze met hers, and he smiled back at her, nodding his head softly. "Trust me, Rachel. I feel it too."


    Her smile widened, and in both her eyes, emotions of excitement glittered.


    "I''ll be in my office if you need anything, sir," she said, turning to leave, her heels clicking as she disappeared down the hall.


    Darren exhaled, and collapsed backwards on his exquisite and very comfortable chair.


    He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, feeling the hum of the building and air conditioners filtering through the walls.


    He smiled again. "Not bad for a dog who died on the street."

 Chapter 125 125: Bitcoin Operation

    "System, how much is Bitcoin worth right now?"


    Ding!


    ©³$0.50 per BTC©¿


    Darren nodded once. ''So a slight drop then. I wouldn''t mind it dropping further, at least for now since I have no plans of selling any time soon.''


    He got into an elevator and once he arrived at the next floor, he got out, adjusting his tie.


    Greeting a few employees on his way, some of which were his own followers on CryptoTracker, he headed down a private corridor.


    Then, with his exclusive key card, he walked past keycard-locked doors, before finally approaching the Operations Room.


    This room was the heart of Steele Investments'' most guarded project. The door hissed open, revealing a space that buzzed with very little noise and chatter, though the air of expectancy was strong.


    There were ten custom rigs lining the walls, with ATI Radeon HD 5870 GPUs blinking red and green. Because the room was small and there were people sitting everywhere, seven fans roared on the ceiling like a distant storm, while air conditioners hummed silently as well.


    Cables snaked neatly across metal racks, and there was this strong smell of brand new warm electronics. A whiteboard in the corner tallied outputs: Day 1: 0 BTC.


    This room was a fortress, with a purpose known only to a select few.


    Kara sat at a cluttered desk, her laptop open, her red hair pulled into a practical ponytail. She looked up, and a big bright smile spread on her cheeky face. "Morning, boss," she said, shutting her laptop with a snap. "They''re all here, ready for you."


    Darren nodded, scanning the room. Everyone''s faces stared back¡ª Kara''s handpicked team of coders, sysadmins, and hardware geeks, their expressions a mix of curiosity and nervous energy.


    Some fiddled with pens, others leaned forward, eyeing the rigs like kids with new toys. These were the minds he was going to bet on, the ones who''d turn his vision into reality.


    He stepped to the center, hands in his pockets, his voice steady but warm. "Good morning, everyone. I''m Darren Steele, as you probably know ¡ª CEO of Steele Investments and, for this project, your Head of Operations. You''ve all met Kara, our Head of this department and your boss."


    He gestured to her, and she gave a mock salute, drawing a few chuckles. "You''re going to listen to everything she says because everything she says is backed up by me. Think of her as a prophet that I speak through as the god of this company. Nothing she says hasn''t been authorized by me. Kara''s the one keeping this ship from sinking, so listen to her when she talks."


    Kara grinned, leaning against her desk, but her eyes were sharp, already sizing up the team''s reactions.


    Darren paced slowly, letting the hum of the rigs fill the pause. "You''re here because you''re the best. At least the best Kara could find. The best she knows. The best coders who can rewrite software in your sleep, techs who can make hardware sing. But you''re not at home anymore, you''re in this room, and this room? This is where we build the future."


    Darren rested his hand on the first desk and darkened his eyes. "Welcome to the first ever Bitcoin Mining Operation."


    -----


    Everyone''s eyes flashed with intrigue, with questions. They glanced at each other but their eyes always returned to Darren.


    He stood straight once again and returned his hands in his pockets. "Those machines behind you aren''t just computers. Those are Bitcoin miners."


    He pointed to a rig, its GPUs glowing faintly. "Each one''s running graphics cards¡ª you must know Radeon 5870s, they are top of the line. They''re solving math problems, very complex ones, to validate transactions on the Bitcoin network. Every time we crack one, we add a block to the chain and earn a reward. That reward is a Bitcoin. If we are perfect, we can pull in hundreds a day."


    A few eyes widened, and he caught a whisper. "Hundreds?"


    But he pressed on. "Don''t get too excited. Bitcoin is only 50 cents today. That''s pocket change for now. But we''re not here for quick cash. We''re banking coins, building a reserve, because I believe¡ª we believe ¡ª this tech''s going to change the world. Think of it like planting seeds. Takes time, but the harvest will be worth it."


    He glanced at Kara, who nodded subtly, her confidence bolstering his. "Here''s how it works," he continued. "You''ll run three shifts, round the clock, keeping these rigs humming. Eight of you per shift, two floaters for fixes. Your job''s to monitor hash rates ¡ª that''s how fast we''re solving those puzzles ¡ª swap out any GPUs that fry, and tweak the software to squeeze out every last bit of speed. Kara''s got the mining client dialed in, but if you''ve got ideas to make it faster, speak up. We''re a team."


    A lanky coder in the back raised a hand, his glasses glinting. "What about power? These GPUs suck juice like nobody''s business."


    Darren agreed, liking the kid''s nerve. "Good question. We''ve got a flat-rate deal with the utility and that helps keep costs steady. But yeah, they run hot, so watch the temps. Fans are maxed out, air conditioning is here. If we need more cooling, we''ll figure it out. Anything else?"


    A woman with a buzzcut leaned forward. "Where''s the Bitcoin going? Like, storage-wise?"


    "You don''t need to worry about that," Darren said, pointing at her. "But... we''re not amateurs. Coins go straight to cold storage ¡ª offline, locked tight. Only Kara and I touch those wallets, and even then, it''s double-checked. Security''s non-negotiable. You focus on mining; we handle the vault."


    He let that sink in, scanning their faces¡ª eager, skeptical, curious.


    He couldn''t tell them about the system, about knowing Bitcoin would hit $30 next year, $1,000 in three, millions later. Maybe if he did, they would be even more enthusiastic.


    However, he had to make do with what he had.


    So, he leaned into conviction, the kind that didn''t need explaining. "You must know that isn''t just any job at this point," he said, his voice dropping, earnest now. "It''s a chance to be part of something nobody else gets yet. Bitcoin''s a speck today, but we''re betting on it becoming a mountain. We have no competitors, so now you''re not only employees, you''re also pioneers. You''re going to be the team of Bitcoin miners that made the currency what it is in the future. Stick with me, and you''ll see where this goes."


    Kara stepped forward, having a serious/playful tone. "Alright, let''s get practical. Shift one, you''re with me today¡ª rig diagnostics, software walkthrough. Shift two, you''re on tonight, monitoring outputs. Shift three, tomorrow morning. I''ve got manuals at my desk, but don''t just read, you should ask questions too. We don''t guess here; we know."


    Darren clapped his hands once, breaking the tension. "That''s it for now. Get to it, and welcome to the game."


    The room stirred, techies splitting into groups, some drifting toward the rigs, and others turned on their computers.


    Darren watched, his chest tight with something like pride. When Kara walked to him, he asked her; "You said there were twenty, I only counted nineteen."


    She bit her lip. "Well that''s because number twenty is kinda a problem. I knew you wouldn''t want him here to hear the plan, so I told him to stay behind until you decide if he could join."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "Who''s he?"


    Kara squirmed. "I think you should see for yourself."


    They left the Operations Room and entered the smaller room beside it. There, a young lanky guy wearing a gray beanie got up and his feet and turned to Darren.


    Rico Evans.


    "Hey, man. Said I''ll see you around, right?"


    Darren''s eyes flashed red. "Son of a bi¡ª"

 Chapter 126 126: Forgiving is Weakness

    The tension was as thick as a tree''s bark.


    Inside the small room beside the Operations Room, it clinged to the walls. Bristling.


    In the center of the two men, Kara had her expressive eyes wide open, worried, looking at one after the other.


    To her right, Darren stood rigid, his jaw clenched, his dark eyes boring into Rico Evans.


    Then to her left, Rico''s lanky figure stood shakily, his gray beanie slightly askew as he shifted nervously. He had a boyish grin on his face which was already faltering under the weight of Darren''s silent fury.


    Kara knew that if she didn''t say something now, she would probably get to see a side of Darren that she''d never seen before.


    She quickly stepped in.


    "Darren, sir, please just hear me out," Kara said, her voice steady but urgent, cutting through the quiet hum of the air conditioner.


    "Is this some kind of joke?" Darren muttered from the depths of his throat.


    "No. No. I know how this looks but I actually know Rico. We''re acquaintances. We ran some gigs together back when I used to hack for people. We can really use his skills here. He''s good. Really good. Like, top-tier. I wouldn''t be saying that if he hasn''t beaten me in some firewall destabilizing competitions."


    Darren''s gaze didn''t waver from Rico, his lips a tight line. "I know exactly how good he is," he said, his tone low, each word edged with ice. "And I don''t care. He betrayed me."


    Rico raised his hands, palms out, his voice slipping into that familiar, friendly cadence that once felt like brotherhood. "Come on, man, let me explain."


    "You broke into my house. You stalked me and then you gave my information to an enemy."


    "An enemy?!" Rico''s eyes widened. "Darren, it wasn''t like that at all. It wasn''t personal. Moon Wealth ¡ª they had me by the throat, man. Said they''d wipe my debt, drop the charges against me and keep me out of prison for hacking their systems a while ago. Prison, bro. I was looking at years. I did what I had to, to survive."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent, his fingers clenched at his sides.


    "I didn''t think it''d hurt you," Rico pressed, his words tumbling faster now. "MWMO just wanted to know who FuglyDuckling was. They talked about partnership, not... not what you''re saying. They didn''t want any trouble at all, they just wanted you to sign a deal with them. From where I stood, it looked like a win-win. Even for you. I didn''t see anything wrong with it, man."


    Darren exhaled sharply through his nose, his anger still smoldering but cracking at the edges.


    In his mind, he admitted it. ''Well, his reasoning is fair. Desperate men made desperate choices. But there wasn''t anything technically wrong with what he did, except lying to me and breaking into my house. He wasn''t giving my identity to Moon Wealth to hurt me. Probably just thought that I would want to partner with a wealth management company too.''


    ''Still, he was stupid. And he broke into my house.''


    Rico''s voice softened, his shoulders slumping. "Things are rough for me, Darren. Real rough. No steady gig, no cash, just scraping by. I met Kara a few weeks ago and she told me what you''re building here ¡ª Bitcoin, cryptocurrency, the whole deal. I told her the issue between you and I and she just said she''ll ask you first."


    He began to beg. "Please, man! I have nothing else."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being honest to you.©¿


    "You''re the only one that could help me. What you''re doing here. It''s big, man. I want in. I need this. I swear, I''ll be loyal. No games, no lies. I''ll prove it. I''ll¡ª"


    "Alright! Alright!" Darren muttered, cutting Rico off mid-ples as he rubbed his throbbing forehead with a grimace.


    Rico''s face lit up, his eyes wide with hope. "Really, bro?"


    "Yeah," Darren said, his voice flat, exhaustion creeping in. "Whatever. Welcome to the team."


    He turned to Kara, keeping his expression clear, letting her know that he''ll speak with her later, and the results of this would be on her head. "Update him on everything I told the team. Get him started on mining."


    "Heh... okay," Kara said nervously.


    Rico blinked, scratching his beanie. "Mining? What''s mining?"


    Darren sighed, a long, weary sound, and Kara stepped in, her half-exasperated. "Move along, bean head. I''ll show you." She folded her hands and pointed toward the door.


    They both left the room, joining the rest in the OR and leaving Darren alone in the quiet.


    "Being lenient stings," he said to himself. "I don''t know why it feels like weakness to me. Forgiving someone who wronged me in some way in the past."


    Was it because of... her?


    Was she the one turning him into his steel hearted egomaniac?


    Darren stood still for a second. Then... Fuck. He let it out, and headed to the door.


    He retraced his steps through the maze of keycard-locked doors, the hiss of each one closing behind him like a punctuation mark on his thoughts.


    Having a former Judas now in his company still somehow gnawed at him, but Rico''s desperation echoed something Darren knew too well: Survival wasn''t pretty.


    Maybe loyalty could be rebuilt. Maybe.


    Back on his floor, the bustle of Steele Investments greeted him once again ¡ª phones ringing, screens flickering with market data, employees darting between desks.


    As he walked, he wondered what could be the function of his day. He was the Head of Operations but the Bitcoin Mining Operation basically didn''t need his presence at all times.


    Since work load hasn''t arrived yet, Darren decided to summon the system. ''Might as well get a jump on the weekly quest.''


    A soft ding sounded in his head, and the system''s interface materialized in his vision, crisp and glowing.


    ©³Weekly Quest:


    ¡ª Strong Start: Begin your first week strong by finding a hidden gem in poor startups and investing in them. Reward for this quest is high tier.©¿

 Chapter 127: Whats Lucrative in 2010?

    Darren placed a thinking finger on his jaw as he walked, turning the quest over in his mind.


    To be fair, this was as interesting a quest as any. It was also a very important one too, especially when it came to the company.


    Investing in a struggling startup wasn''t just about the system''s reward ¡ª whatever that would be ¡ª it was a chance to diversify Steele Investments beyond Bitcoin.


    It was Steele Investments, not Steele Crypto Investments. So even though Bitcoin was a focus, other investment strategies weren''t supposed to be ignored.


    Now, a smart pick here could yield tech, talent, or partnerships, strengthening his empire''s foundation.


    Back in 2020, there were many more established companies. But now In 2010, there were many more startups, and the thing about startups now is that they were scrappy, underfunded, but also ripe for someone with cash and vision to swoop in.


    A hidden gem could mean early access to innovation ¡ª software, hardware, maybe even crypto-adjacent tech ¡ª that''d pay dividends when markets shifted.


    This was going to be easy.


    At least that''s what Darren thought. He thought this because he knew the future''s giants, and he knew that it would be awesome if the future''s history changed to be that he was the one who discovered these giants back when they were nothing.


    With a burst of inspiration tugging at him, he ordered the Investor System. ''System, list some companies that blew up in my former timeline but are struggling for funds now.''


    The interface flickered, displaying a short list with names and founders:


    -------------------------


    ©³Netflix ¨C Reed Hastings & Marc Randolph. Streaming''s in its infancy, bleeding cash against Blockbuster''s shadow.


    ©³Wesla Motors ¨C Elon Must. Electric cars are a gamble, burning through funds with no mass-market hit yet.


    ©³Airbnb ¨C Brian Chesky, Joe Gebbia, Nathan Blecharczyk. A quirky rental idea, scraping by on angel investments.


    ©³Dropbox ¨C Drew Houston, Arash Ferdowsi. Cloud storage''s niche, fighting for users against free giants.©¿


    ------------------------------


    Darren''s finger hovered, tempted by Netflix, he knew their pivot to streaming would crush it by 2015. And fuck it, Elon Must didn''t need cash.


    But before he could choose, the system blared, a sharp chime that made him wince.


    ©³Warning: Using future knowledge is banned for quests like this. This quest is to sharpen your scouting and investment skills. You must find other startup companies on your own.©¿


    "Oh." Darren''s finger froze as he stared at the screen, then he chuckled, leaning back. "Fair enough," he muttered.


    The system was right. As for this situation, leaning on his timeline was a crutch. If he was going to build an empire, he needed to hone his instincts, not just follow a script.


    Following a cheat code at all times usually led one to forget how to actually play.


    He drummed his fingers on the elbow of his other hand, thinking. ''What''s lucrative in 2010? Film? Technology? Clothing? Electronics? Cars?''


    The system responded, its text scrolling smoothly:


    ---------------------------


    ©³Here are the most lucrative branches of business now©¿


    ©³Analysis is as follows:


    - Film: Digital distribution is emerging. Small studios with online platforms could disrupt traditional models, but returns are slow.


    - Technology: Software and mobile apps are exploding ¡ª iPhone''s rise opens doors. Early movers in cloud or security could scale fast.


    - Clothing: Fast fashion''s peaking, but niche sustainable brands gain traction long-term. Low margins unless you hit a cultural nerve.


    - Electronics: Hardware''s costly, but peripherals (e.g., phone accessories) have low entry barriers and high demand.


    - Cars: Electric''s niche, hybrids growing. Small players innovating in parts or tech could be acquired by giants later.©¿


    Darren nodded, his choice clear. "Many to choose from but I can''t go wrong with Technology," he said to himself.


    Software, apps, maybe something crypto-adjacent. Since it was his wheelhouse, and 2010 was a goldmine for tech startups nobody saw coming.


    A good pick could mesh with his mining, maybe streamline transactions or security, giving Steele Investments an edge.


    Or, he could just forget about crypto at all and focus on another technological advancement that was sure to implode soon.


    Darren stopped walking, smoothing his suit and glanced at the door to his right.


    It was Rachel''s office, the exact room he was hoping to arrive at by the time he finished thinking.


    Darren turned fully and faced the office door. He knocked once and then twisted the knob.


    Inside, Rachel sat on her chair across from Amelia, papers spread between them. Rachel''s hair gleamed under the light, her pen tapping as she spoke. "The Apple stocks are locked at $250 per share. Your staggered buy worked. It kept us under the radar. We''re projecting a 20% gain by Q1 if trends hold."


    Amelia, her brunette bangs neat but her eyes wide with focus, nodded. "Sandy''s finalizing the transfer now. We''ll clear 8,000 shares by tomorrow."


    Darren knocked lightly on the frame, and both women looked up. "Ladies," he said, stepping in.


    "Sir."


    "Mr. Steele," Amelia said nervously, almost even bowing because she didn''t know how to act around him.


    Darren looked at the two of them and smiled. "I''m going scouting for our first official company investment. We need to find a hidden gem ¡ª some startup nobody''s betting on yet ¡ª and bring them to light."


    Rachel''s brow arched, excitement flickering. "That''s a good move for week one. It''ll be difficult to get people to trust us, since we''re not established. I''ll go with you."


    Darren shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No, Rach. You''re my secretary, assistant, and consultant ¡ª hell, you''re half the brain here. I need you holding the fort in case something comes up and I''m not around."


    He turned to Amelia, whose hands froze mid-shuffle. "You, though ¡ª you''re secretary of investments. This is your specialty, isn''t it?"


    Amelia swallowed, her voice a touch shaky. "Yes, sir."


    "Then let''s go," Darren said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You''re coming with me."


    She nodded, gathering her notes with a nervous haste, glancing at Amelia only once before following him out, the click of her heels trailing his steady stride.


    "Let''s find out why Ryan Anders cherished you so much."

 Chapter 128: Hunting for Startups

    The Aston Martin One-77 purred through Los Alverez''s streets, its silver curves slicing through the late morning haze.


    Inside, Darren gripped the wheel, his charcoal suit jacket draped over the passenger seat, his tie loosened just enough to signal ease.


    Beside him, Amelia sat ramrod straight, her brunette hair barely moving as she clutched a leather notebook, her knuckles pale. She had sunk her eyes into the strands of her bangs, trying to escape the tenseness of the situation and avoid glancing at Darren.


    Thankfully, the car''s engine constant and smooth humming did its best to fill the silence, but at the same time, made the silence even feel more present because no one would have heard the engine if they were talking.


    Or at least listening to some music.


    She squeezed her eyes. Why wouldn''t he play some music?


    Her nervous energy was louder than the humming too. It was practically vibrating off her.


    "So," Darren said, glancing her way, his tone light to cut the tension.


    She panicked slightly. She hadn''t asked him to speak! She only wanted music to soften the tension.


    "How are you settling in? Has it been okay so far?"


    Amelia glanced at him but quickly looked away after, returning her gaze to the moving cars in front of them.


    "Steele Investments isn''t exactly Ryan Anders'' stuffy boardroom, is it? The change hasn''t been too jarring for you, I hope?"


    Amelia''s lips twitched. That kind of question was supposed to be answered with a friendly smile, so she did her best to produce a half-smile, though it didn''t quite reach her eyes.


    "It''s... different, sir. But it''s a good different." She thought for a while before going on.


    "I mean one of the reasons I wanted to come was because Steele Investments wasn''t Moon Wealth. And the sense of unity and excitement here is very gratifying. Just, uh, it''ll take some getting used to."


    Her voice was soft, clipped, like she was measuring every word. Even though being poached from Anders had for the most part been her own idea, it was still a change she had to get through. And sitting next to the boss now, she felt like a rookie all over again.


    "From what I hear, you''re doing fine. Excellent in fact. Your move to stagger the investment and keep us under the radar made us a 20% gain. That''s pretty influential for your first day?"


    Her eyes lit and she snapped her face at him. "It is? I didn''t... realize." Then she lowered her gaze.


    Darren chuckled, easing the car through a turn. "Relax, Amelia. You''re not on trial. I don''t bite ¡ª unless the numbers don''t add up." He shot her a grin, hoping to thaw her nerves.


    Amelia gave a tight-lipped smile.


    "You''ve got a knack for investments. That''s why you''re here. You might be wondering why I chose you over Rachel to come with me."


    She creased her brows at him. "You said her presence would be needed back at the Complex. She''s your representative, and I''m the secretary of investments."


    "That is true, but it''s not the only reason. You see, I was thinking..." Darren sat back on the car chair. "Anders said something to me in that meeting at the Pendulum. He said that he doesn''t work with startups. As discriminatory as that is, I think it has become something I can use to my advantage."


    Amelia watched him.


    "Back when you were with Anders, what was the weirdest startup you ever heard someone pitch to him?"


    She hesitated, then exhaled, her grip on the notebook loosening. "There was this guy pitching edible packaging. I know, it sounds crazy but innovation... somehow. It was like wrappers you could eat. Like I said, crazy, even though he had data showing waste reduction. I pushed for it, but Anders shot it down. Too ''out there.''"


    "Edible wrappers?" Darren raised a brow, amused. "Forget about being out there. That''s a terrible idea. Wrappers are non edible because they''re supposed to cover the edible stuff. There''s bacteria in the air."


    He scoffed, rounding another corner. "Anyhow, that''s what I like; people thinking past the obvious. Keep that instinct today, alright?"


    "Yes, sir," she said, a flicker of confidence creeping in. She flipped open her notebook, revealing pages dense with handwritten notes, charts, and clipped articles.


    "If what you''re saying is that you wanted me here so that I can point you to some startups Anders refused to back, then I''ve got some leads we could check. I''ve had this notebook ever since I started working. I wrote down every client that came to strike a deal with Anders."


    Darren looked down at the book with one eyebrow raised. "I don''t know how I do it but I keep hiring the best people for the best jobs."


    He returned to the street. "You keep impressing me like this, Amelia, and I''ll give you a gift after the day''s over."


    "A gift?" she asked, looking at him with a surprised gaze.


    "Yeah. What do you say? Me and you. Lunch. We''ll talk more then about other stuff."


    "Oh." Her brown eyes shone through the strands of her bangs. "Okay."


    "It''s a date," Darren nodded, his focus sharpening.


    They headed towards an innovation center.


    In this place, people gathered together to talk about their plans and investments, or ideas or suggestions that they feel would help society or gain wealth.


    In these centers, many investors also gathered there too. They were usually small type investors, trying to find someone inspiring enough to give cash to and then demand results out of desperation.


    Although, sometimes, big time investors also came here, and a few innovators became successful with their investments and backing.


    Today, Darren and Amelia were hunting a hidden gem. He''d explained to her that he wanted to go for tech based companies. He wanted to invest in a tech startup nobody else saw coming, something to prove Steele Investments could spot diamonds in the rough.


    Amelia''s nerves didn''t bother him; her mind did the talking, and he trusted Rachel''s pick. The system''s quest pulsed in his head¡ª ©³find a poor startup, invest, high-tier reward.©¿


    But its ban on using future knowledge meant he was flying half-blind, relying on gut and grit. That, and Amelia''s knack for sniffing out potential.

 Chapter 129: Shark Tank

    The day stretched into a blur of meetings and dead ends. Their first stop was one of the cramped innovation centers where nothing, literally nothing was innovative at all.


    Darren felt disgraced that those people thought they could make business plans out of what they were suggesting. Did they think the business world was that easy?


    He literally had to die and resurrect just to have enough money to even start one.


    Ugh!


    Then they went to a co-working space downtown, where a pair of brothers pitched a mobile game app ¡ª a clunky knockoff of Bejeweled with no hook.


    Darren passed politely, catching Amelia''s subtle headshake.


    Next was a cybersecurity duo in a garage, their idea solid but their pitch a mess, asking for $2 million with no prototype.


    "I''m not even sleepy yet and you''re already selling me a dream? Come back when you''ve got something besides hot air and a PowerPoint."


    By lunch, they were at a diner, Darren sipping black coffee while Amelia scribbled notes, her brow furrowed.


    "Anything in that note book of yours screaming ''gem'' yet?" he asked, leaning back in the booth.


    She sighed, flipping pages. "Not really. Not yet. You shouldn''t make fun of me for tracking startups and clients. It''s a habit I got from working for Anders."


    Darren finished his coffee. "I''m sorry for making you nervous, dear Amy. But come on, tell me what you have there."


    Her face turned pink, but she answered anyway. "Clippings, forums, university boards. Most of these are too green or too greedy." She paused, her finger stopping on a dog-eared page. "Wait. There''s one I marked a while back. Didn''t think much of it then, but..."


    Darren leaned forward, sensing a shift. "What''s the name?"


    "NeuraNest," she said, almost testing the word. "Two grad students from LMU Engineering. They''re working on neural network software ¡ª early machine learning, but for small businesses, not labs. Think automated inventory or customer predictions, dirt cheap. I saw their demo at a tech fair last month. And then they met Anders to manage them but he passed. It was overall a rough demo, but... I don''t know... I think it was promising."


    "Neural networks in 2010?" Darren''s interest piqued. "That''s a niche. Why''d you skip it before?"


    Amelia bit her lip. "They''re nobodies. No funding, no connections. One''s a dropout, the other''s got family issues ¡ª dad''s sick, pulling her away. Anders laughed them out."


    "You thought I would too?"


    She got flustered. "I don''t know. I just... I guess I''m not used to a... boss that''s a bit considerate."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. "Mhm. If you kept tabs on those two, do you think you can figure out where they are now?"


    She checked her notes. "Last I checked, they are still here in Calivernia, I think. Got an address for a basement office near the university. Low rent, probably desperate."


    "Let''s go," he said, tossing a few bills on the table. "An evil man once told me something about desperate people."


    They walked past the door.


    "I mean he was bat shit evil."


    "But he was also right."


    ------


    The "office" was a dank basement in a crumbling brick building, its stairwell smelling of mildew and cheap takeout.


    There was a flickering bulb, and that was the only thing that offered illumination of any kind.


    It lit the way as Darren and Amelia descended, her heels clicking uncertainly. At the bottom, a door with a handwritten sign read: ''NeuraNest ¨C Knock First.''


    Darren exhaled, glanced at Amelia and then rapped on the door twice. It creaked open, revealing a cluttered space that looked more like a hacker''s den than a startup.


    Two figures looked up from a tangle of monitors and pizza boxes. The first was a wiry guy, mid-20s, with messy black hair and a faded Green Day shirt. He was certainly Evan Kimura, the dropout, with those eyes that were wary but sharp.


    The second was a woman, maybe 23, with braided brown hair and tired circles under her eyes. She was Lila Torres, the one with the sick dad. Her gaze flicked to Amelia, recognition dawning, then hardened at Darren''s suit.


    "Hey, I know you," Lila said, pointing at Amelia with a low arm.


    "Yeah, that''s true."


    "Evan, you remember her?"


    "Of course I remember her." Evan got up from the creaky chair, his gaze directed at Darren''s Secretary of Finance. "You''re the Anders lady," he said, a bit more confrontational than Darren would have preferred.


    "What is this? You''re back to tell us we''re dreaming too big?" Lila asked with folded arms.


    Amelia flushed but held her ground. "I never thought that you two were dreaming too big, and I''m not with Ryan Anders anymore."


    "Doesn''t matter now, does it? You already refused our offer. So we''ve given it to someone new." Evan said. Lila glanced at him to question that, but he looked at Darren, frowning. "Who''s this?"


    Amelia took a step forward. "This is Darren Steele, CEO of Steele Investments. He''s my employer now."


    Darren remained standing, hands in pockets. "Settle down, kids. And let''s have a talk."


    "Kids!" Lila took offence to that. "You don''t look any older than either of us."


    "You''re right. I don''t. Which should tell you a lot about how you''re acting." He sighed, stepping forward. "There''s no need to lie, either. No one is investing in this dump you two have here, regardless of whatever ideas you have."


    Evan narrowed his eyes. "Hey man, are you here to insult us? What''s your angle?"


    Darren looked at him, unfazed, his voice calm but carrying that quiet command he''d honed. "No angle. I''m simply here because Amelia says you''ve got something worth seeing. Neural nets for small businesses ¡ª inventory, predictions, cheap. That true?"


    Lila hesitated, then nodded, brushing a braid behind her ear. "Yeah. It''s true. What''s it to you?"


    Darren raised a brow at her. "She told you my company is called Steele Investments. Do you think I''m here to collect the electric bill or something?"


    She shut up.


    Darren looked at Evan. "I''ll make you a deal, but we''re not going to reach there if you hold on to the lie that you''ve already procured an investor. I''m not here to match an offer or give a higher one, so I''m going to leave if that''s the case. And you''ll never see me again."


    Evan quickly spoke. "No no no! I was only joking. We haven''t gotten any investors yet. Things are really tough on us right now, I just got greedy and said that. I''m sorry, man."


    "Sir." Darren corrected him.


    "S-Sir," Evan stuttered. "We''re building software that learns and adapts to a store''s data, optimizes stock, flags trends. Like AI, but for mom-and-pop shops, not corporations. It costs less than a part-time clerk."


    Darren looked at Amelia and then back at Evan.


    "Show me," he demanded.

 Chapter 130: NeuraNest

    Evan Kimura, still rattled from his backpedaled lie, shuffled to a scratched-up monitor.


    Once he got to it, he extended his arms, grabbed the screen and pulled it closer to him, then tapped nervously at the keyboard.


    Lila Torres lingered behind, hands still folded as she continuously glanced at Darren and Amelia then back to Evan, her eyes had questions while being defiant and desperate.


    Amelia stood by Darren''s side, her notebook clutched like a shield, her earlier flush fading into quiet focus.


    Darren''s hands stayed in his pockets, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, cutting through Evan''s nervous energy. "This is your big work," he said with an impatient tone. "It shouldn''t take you this long to pull it up. Show me what you''ve got, and make it quick."


    "Yes. Yes. I got it." Evan nodded, swallowing hard, and pulled up a demo. The screen flickered, then steadied. Then he turned the computer around for Darren to see.


    "Here it is!"


    Darren looked at Amelia, then they both walked towards the computer, looking at the display on the screen.


    It showed a clunky dashboard for a fictional bookstore, graphs plotting inventory trends, red flags marking overstocked titles, and a sidebar predicting customer buys based on two months'' data.


    It was raw, the interface stuttering like a bad VHS, but the logic underneath gleamed. Numbers aligned with mathematical precision, catching patterns no human clerk could spot.


    Seeing this, Darren was instantly intrigued. Maybe this duo had really created something outstanding.


    He leaned closer, his system silent but his instincts buzzing. In 2020, he knew how major Neural nets were, but in 2010, they were a science project.


    But here they were, bent to serve corner stores, not ivory towers.


    Lila spoke up, her voice steadier now, though the circles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion and desperation. "You can see that we''re not just talking. Look, it''s inventory, yes, but there''s more. It learns ¡ª sales spikes, seasonal shifts, even weird stuff, like if a local festival tanks demand for coffee. We trained it on real data from a deli down the street. Cut their waste by 12% in a month."


    Darren''s brow arched, impressed despite himself. "12%?"


    Lila looked at the raised brow on his intrigued face. "Yes. 12 percent."


    Darren glanced at Amelia, lips pursed as he nodded his head. "Frankly, that''s not nothing. It''s quite impressive actually. How scalable is it?"


    Evan jumped in, eager to recover. "Right now, it''s coded for small retail. You know, like books, food, clothes. But Lila made sure the core''s flexible. That way, it gives us better servers, we could tweak it for bigger chains, maybe logistics. Problem''s the hardware. This junk¡ª" he slapped the monitor, which wobbled¡ª "can''t handle more than a few datasets."


    Amelia scribbled furiously, her pen scratching as she whispered to Darren, "That''s a lean model. If it scales, it could disrupt point-of-sale systems. Big players like Oracle haven''t touched this market yet."


    "Oracle?" Darren chuckled. "You think far and fast, Amelia."


    He then tilted his head both ways in playful thought. "But, I can really see it working."


    Darren nodded, his mind racing. He didn''t need his system to see the spark here ¡ª NeuraNest could be a sleeper hit, a tool to streamline small businesses now.


    However, if it became as successful as it could be, many marketing companies, investors, even the Empire Companies would be purchasing the software so they could track trends and make better investments.


    This was worth hundreds of millions in the future. Maybe even billions.


    But it wasn''t polished, and neither were its founders. Evan''s greed had already shown, and Lila''s edge hinted at pride that could snag a deal.


    "So why did you start this?" he asked, shifting his weight, eyes flicking between them. "Was it a school project that you realized had potential? Or was this something you''ve always been inspired to do?"


    Lila''s jaw tightened, but she answered, her voice raw. "My dad''s got lung cancer. Hospital bills are drowning us. I code at night, between his chemo sessions. This¡ª" she gestured at the screens¡ª"is my way out. For both of us."


    Darren nodded once. "Sad story. Doesn''t really answer my question."


    "It was my idea!" Evan exclaimed, less guarded now. "I was talking to some of my colleagues in the business colleges. They spoke about how easy it would be if there was software that made it easier to predict the growth of stocks and assets. So I thought of NeuraNest there and then. Lila joined in because she was my friend. And so... here we are."


    Darren looked at him blankly. Then he turned to Lila. "That true?"


    She nodded once. Weakly.


    Ding!


    ©³.....©¿


    Evan continued. "I bailed on LMU when they said neural nets were a dead end. Parents cut me off, so I''m couch-surfing. We''re not here for fame. We just... we know it works."


    Darren held their gazes, seeing past the bravado. He knew that grind¡ªnights hunched over a laptop, betting on a future nobody else saw. His system had given him a map, but these two? They were navigating blind, and still hitting targets. That took guts.


    "Alright," he said, straightening. "What''s your ask?"


    Lila and Evan exchanged a glance, a silent negotiation. Evan spoke first, tentative. "$75,000. New servers, a UI coder, nine months to stabilize. We''ll give you 12% equity, no more."


    Darren''s lips twitched, almost a smirk. "You seem to have had that memorized. But hey, what gives now? I thought you said $50,000 to Amelia''s former boss. Now it''s 75? Pick a number and mean it."


    Lila flushed, but held firm. "50 was then. We''ve burned through savings since. 75''s fair for what we''re offering."


    Amelia leaned in, her voice a murmur. "It''s still low for the tech, sir. Equity''s tight, but they''re green. Unfortunately, they have room to negotiate."


    Darren nodded, his thoughts splintering. "You can''t just say that in front of them, Amelia."


    Her eyes widened. "Oh! I''m sorry!" That was so unlike her that she couldn''t even believe she had said that.


    "It''s fine. The thing is I don''t really care how much room they have to negotiate when the room is inside an unstable house." Darren shrugged. "NeuraNest isn''t a sure thing. I mean yes, your code is solid, but the market is brutal, and your inexperience could tank it."


    He stopped talking for a while to think.


    ''Yet the potential... if they hit, they could redefine how small businesses run, maybe even feed data to his crypto plays down the line. And by the way, I''ll get the weekly quest done in time too so I can focus on other stuff.''


    ''The system demanded a gem, and this is the closest I''ve come all day. Still... heck, I''m not signing checks on a vibe.''


    He narrowed his eyes at the duo then squared his shoulders.


    "I need more," he said, his tone even but unyielding. "Full code breakdown, your data sources, a six-month plan. When I say a six month plan, I want numbers, not promises. Get it to me by noon tomorrow, and I''ll consider it. Blow me off, and I''m gone."


    Evan''s eyes lit up, a grin breaking through. "You''re serious? I mean ¡ª yes, sir, we''ll do it."


    Lila nodded, cautious but hopeful. "Noon. You''ll have it."


    Darren handed Lila a card. It was a fancy dark blue card with Steele Investments embossed with gold. It felt heavy in her hand.


    She handed it to Evan. Darren narrowed his eyes at that action.


    "Well, don''t waste my time," he said, then turned to Amelia. "Let''s go."


    They climbed the creaky stairs, the basement''s mildew giving way to Calivernia''s sharp afternoon air. Amelia''s heels clicked faster now, her nervousness replaced by a spark of triumph. "I knew they were worth a look," she said, tucking her notebook under her arm. "It''s messy, but that demo... you felt it, didn''t you?"


    "Felt something," Darren admitted, sliding into the Aston Martin.


    He didn''t say it aloud, but NeuraNest had his attention ¡ª not just for the quest, but for what it could mean.


    Think of it. A neural net for mom-and-pop shops could be a niche goldmine, and then for major companies?


    That was a treasure island!


    "Oh, I''m really sorry for blurting that out back there. It was so unprofessional," Amelia mumbled.


    "It''s fine. You were only trying to impress me. And you have!" He turned on the car. "So let''s get on with that gift."


    Amelia''s eyes snapped open. "Gift?"


    Darren looked at her and beamed flirtatiously. "Let''s go get lunch."

 Chapter 131: Amelias Story

    The midday sun hung high over Calivernia, painting the streets in a golden glow as Darren''s Aston Martin One-77 glided to a stop outside La Villette, a chic bistro tucked between glass-fronted boutiques.


    Its ivy-draped patio and soft jazz spilling from open windows promised a respite from the morning''s startup grind.


    Darren stepped out, his charcoal suit catching the light, tie still loose from earlier. He glanced at Amelia, who hesitated in the passenger seat, her dark hair framing a face caught between surprise and nerves.


    "Coming?" he called, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "I promised you a nice lunch if you impressed me. NeuraNest was a solid find, so here we are."


    Amelia''s hazel eyes widened, and she fumbled with her notebook, stepping out in her navy blazer and skirt, heels clicking uncertainly. "I... I didn''t think you meant today, sir," she said, her voice soft, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "And I didn''t think you meant La Villette."


    Darren shrugged playfully. "What''s wrong with La Villette?"


    Her lips wriggled. "It''s fancy. Almost makes it seem like..." Her cheeks turned red again. "Like this is a date."


    Darren frowned. "Isn''t it?"


    She looked at him.


    He looked at her.


    ...


    ...


    "You''re very cruel when you tease someone like that, do you know?" She downturned her lips in a babyish manner that rivaled her usual classy, extremely formal character.


    Darren laughed. "I apologize again for making you nervous, Amy. But hey, fancy''s the point, and besides, you''ve earned it."


    She smiled in acceptance and followed him to the door.


    The nickname slipped out, light and teasing, and as they entered the restaurant, it was all Amelia could think about. Her blush deepened, and her gaze dropped to the polished floor.


    The hostess led them to a corner table by a window, where sunlight danced on crystal glassware and white linens. Darren settled into his chair, all easy confidence, while Amelia perched opposite, her notebook tucked away but her fingers still twitching like they missed it.


    "Do you take that everywhere?" Darren asked.


    Amelia looked at the book. Then at him. "Most of the time."


    A waiter arrived and poured sparkling Bordeaux. Darren noticed the wine, smiling to himself at the irony.


    When the waiter left, he raised his glass, his blue eyes locking on Amelia''s. "To hidden gems," he said, his tone warm but with a playful edge. "And to you not passing out from nerves before we order."


    She laughed ¡ª a small, genuine sound that broke her stiffness. "I''m not that nervous," she said, though her hands betrayed her, smoothing her napkin twice. "It''s just... I''m not used to this. Lunch with the boss, I mean. At Moon Wealth, it was all cubicles and coffee runs. I was not treated like this, and I don''t know... the way you acted all serious when I came to your house with Rachel and Sandy, I thought you''d be stricter."


    Darren leaned back, studying her. "I can be stricter if that''s what you want."


    "No no." She shook her head and hands. "I don''t want that at all. I like you like this."


    Darren raised a brow. "Oh, you like me now?"


    Her face reddened. "That''s not ¡ª"


    "Don''t worry about it," Darren chuckled. "Anders knew what he had, but he didn''t cherish it because he had no fear that he would ever lose it. You''ve got an eye for what''s next and NeuraNest''s proof."


    He took a sip of his wine. "So, tell me, what''s Amelia''s story? Not the resume version. The real one."


    Her lips parted, caught off guard, and she sipped her wine to stall. "It''s not that exciting," she said, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Grew up in a small town¡ª Lodi, middle of nowhere. My mom raised me alone, worked two jobs at diners like the one we were at earlier. She''d bring home leftover pie, and we''d pretend it was a feast."


    Her voice softened, a flicker of warmth in her eyes. "She taught me to notice things. Things like people, patterns. Said it''d get me somewhere better than pouring coffee."


    Darren''s gaze softened, a rare crack in his usual sharpness. "Sounds like she was right. Lodi to Calivernia''s a hell of a jump."


    Amelia shrugged, her smile bittersweet. "Took every scholarship I could get to study finance. And I became even more successful in that than I ever thought. Ryan Anders hired me almost immediately and well..." She faltered, her fingers tightening on her glass.


    "You know the rest of it."


    Darren''s brow arched, catching the weight behind her words. "And how''s your mom?"


    Amelia smiled, somehow touched that he had asked about her. "She''s fine. I actually bought her a small house in the quieter, residential parts of the state."


    "Look at that," Darren praised her. "Good for you."


    She beamed at him. "Thank you."


    The waiter arrived, breaking the moment, and they ordered ¡ª grilled salmon for Darren, a pear and gorgonzola salad for Amelia, her choice hesitant, like she wasn''t used to picking for herself.


    As the plates arrived, she relaxed, her shyness easing into small gestures: a laugh when Darren mocked his own coffee addiction, a shy brush of her fingers against his when passing the salt.


    Each touch sparked a flicker in her eyes, a mix of awe and curiosity for the man across from her, whose confidence seemed to pull her out of her shell.


    "You know," she said, poking at her salad, "when Rachel poached me, I thought I''d crash and burn here. Then at your house. I know I''ve mentioned it before but... oh hell. You''re young and yet you were so... intimidating, sir. Not mean, just... big. Like you see everything."


    Darren chuckled, cutting his salmon. "Eh, I''m not trying to be intimidating, Amy. I''ll tell you that." He paused, his fork hovering. "You''re not crashing. You''re flying. Don''t know how many times I''ve said it but NeuraNest could be huge, and that''s on you."


    Her cheeks glowed, and she looked down, twirling a forkful of greens. "Thank you, sir."


    She laughed nervously, brushing her hair back again, her fingers trembling slightly. "You''re so..."


    Darren waited with a lifted brow. "So what?"


    Amelia shook her head, chortling nervously. "I don''t know you''re just really not what I expected."


    "Good," he said almost blankly. "Expect the unexpected with me. Keeps life interesting." He leaned closer, then the playfulness returned. "Like picking a salad when you clearly wanted the steak."


    She gasped, laughing, her hand flying to her mouth. "I did not!"


    "Come on! Salad? Really? Any one who picks salad is just being performative."


    "I''m not¡ª" She gave up, lips pouting. "Okay, maybe a little." Her giggle was unguarded, and for a second, she looked younger, lighter, the weight of Anders'' shadow lifting. Their eyes locked, and the jazz in the background seemed to fade, the space between them shrinking until her breath caught, her lips parting slightly.


    Ding!


    ©³This person feels profound romantic attraction towards you.©¿


    The waiter''s approach snapped them back, offering dessert menus, and Amelia ducked her head, her blush fierce now. Darren waved off the menus, ordering a single cre?me bru?le?e to share¡ªa tease, not a demand, his grin daring her to protest. She didn''t, just smiled shyly, her fingers brushing his again when the dish arrived, the crack of the caramel topping a small, shared victory.


    "So what''s next after this?" Amelia asked with great difficulty.


    Darren looked at her, eyes not fully open. "We return to the Complex, and then go about our separate duties."


    Amelia appeared disappointed, her eyes lowering slightly.


    But Darren had more. "Then we do this again tomorrow when they submit their demo."


    "Oh." She lit up with hope again.


    "Can''t wait," Darren said, watching her. "Can you?"


    Her eyes locked with his, glistening in its hazel beauty as a smile spread on her face. "Me neither," she answered.

 Chapter 132 132: Building the Neural Net

    It was the next day already.


    The basement office of NeuraNest smelled of stale coffee and solder, light flickered from the single bulb that buzzed like a trapped fly. The monitors gave everywhere bluish light, and on the tables were pizza boxes and tangled cables.


    Darren Steele stood at the room''s center, hands in his pockets, scanning the setup, calm but piercing, like a hawk circling prey. Beside him, Amelia clutched her leather notebook, her hazel eyes locked on the duo across from them.


    Evan Kimura and Lila Torres.


    They were both finishing up on their demo, faces painted with nervous and wary expressions.


    "Alright, I think that''s enough time," Darren said with finality. "You got my attention yesterday, not necessarily my patience. Now show me why I''m here. Run the demo ¡ª the full breakdown with no fluff."


    Lila nodded, her fingers dancing over the keys, pulling up a dashboard on a scratched monitor.


    "It''s ready."


    She picked up the laptop and brought it closer to them. "This is our core model," she said, keeping her voice steady despite the shadows under her eyes. "It''s a basic neural net, trained on small-business data ¡ª inventory, sales, customer patterns. Watch this."


    The screen shifted, showing a mock bakery: graphs flagged overstocked croissants, predicted a 15% sales spike for muffins by Friday, and suggested cutting flour orders. It was clunky, the UI was stuttering at times, but the numbers still held.


    She''d done a great job. It was tight, logical, almost alive.


    Amelia scribbled furiously, her pen scratching. "That is precise," she murmured, glancing at Darren. "They''re using backpropagation, aren''t they? For a dataset that small, it''s impressive."


    Evan jumped in, his grin widening. "Yeah, exactly. I built the architecture myself¡ªlayered it to optimize for retail. Took months to get it this clean."


    A faint chime echoed in Darren''s mind from the system.


    Ding!


    He looked at Evan, but kept his face neutral. He then looked at Lila. Her fingers paused, her jaw twitched, but she said nothing, eyes glued to the screen.


    "Eh, even if that was the case. I''m the one who decides if it''s impressive or not." Darren said flatly. "Walk me through the training data. What''s feeding this beast?"


    Lila leaned forward, her voice warming with passion. "We scraped public sales logs, that is local shops, mostly. Cafes, bookstores, a deli two blocks over. About 10,000 transactions, and we cleaned it by hand. I wrote a script to filter noise, then we ran it through a custom loss function to prioritize accuracy over speed."


    Evan cut in, gesturing grandly. "That was my idea, to focus on accuracy. I figured small businesses need trust, not flash. My blueprint works perfectly."


    Ding! The notification hit again, and Darren''s eyes narrowed a fraction. He ignored it once more and continued "Well, keep it going. Data''s only half the story. How''s it scale?"


    Lila blinked, catching his shift to her, and pushed on. "Right now, it''s capped at 50,000 transactions, hardware limits."


    Evan jumped in. "But the model''s modular. New servers could push it to millions, maybe handle chains or franchises. I told Lila to make a roadmap¡ª"


    Lila tapped a folder, pages dog-eared and inked with notes.


    "Which I also helped draft," Evan added, leaning closer to the monitor. "Laid out the whole scaling plan. It''s why we''re a team."


    Ding!


    "Show me the code," Darren said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a challenge. "Raw logic. I want to see what''s under the hood."


    Evan hesitated, his grin faltering, but Lila was already clicking, pulling up a wall of Python¡ª clean loops, tight functions, comments in her hurried scrawl. "Here''s the training module," she said, scrolling. "It''s a three-layer net, ReLU activation for speed, dropout to avoid overfitting. I tuned the weights myself ¡ª took three all-nighters."


    Amelia leaned in, her eyes scanning. "Well done. You''re avoiding gradient vanishing without bloating the model. Most startups would overcomplicate this."


    Lila''s lips twitched and broke into a shy smile. "Thanks. I kept it lean because small businesses can''t afford lag."


    Evan coughed, pointing at a random line. "Yeah, I told her to strip it down. It''s best to keep it practical, you know?"


    "Practical''s good," Darren agreed. "Okay then. I agree that I''m thoroughly interested and impressed. So let''s talk numbers. You asked $75,000 yesterday. What''s it buy, and what do I get?"


    Lila exhaled, glancing at Evan, who nodded too eagerly. "$75,000 gets us two servers, a UI coder, and four months," she said. "We''ll deliver a stable build for retail, 95% accuracy, ready to beta in three weeks. You''d get 12% equity."


    Evan jumped in, his voice loud. "And I''ll make sure it''s market-ready. My vision''s to take this nationwide. You know, like Walmart, not just delis."


    "The extra ten thousand is only necessary if server costs were still affected by the electric fluctuations from last month. They''re not anymore," Darren said, crossing his arms. "I''ll do $65,000. But you''ll get 30% today, rest when we sign tomorrow. You''ll give me 15% equity, and I want weekly code audits. All of this is of course... non-negotiable."


    Amelia''s pen froze, her eyes wide, she hadn''t expected him to push so hard. Lila bit her lip, calculating, then looked at Evan.


    "I think 65 is fair.,"


    Evan grinned, too quick. "Alright! Alright! You got a deal, man¡ª sir. You''re getting a steal."


    Darren ignored it, pulling a check of $30,000 from his jacket with Steele Investments'' logo bold.


    He handed it to Lila, not Evan, his gaze locking on hers. "Don''t disappoint me," he said, his tone soft but steel-edged. "I''ve got other work to do now. Noon tomorrow, my office¡ª bring the contract."


    Lila clutched the check, her eyes shining with something like hope. "We''ll be there," she said with promise.


    Evan took the check from her. "Noon it is."


    Darren turned, nodding to Amelia, who followed, her heels clicking up the mildew-slick stairs.


    Outside, a wiry man in a cheap leather jacket appeared behind Darren''s car, camera in hand.


    His face was shadowed by a baseball cap and he wore gloves. Gingerly, he raised the camera and took pictures: the Aston Martin''s plates, NeuraNest''s crumbling facade, and when he heard footsteps, he hid behind a building and took more pictures of who came out.


    Darren and Amelia as they entered the car together.


    ---


    Miles away, in the glass tower that belonged to Moon Wealth Management Offices, Ryan Anders leaned back in his chair, his handsome grin splitting his angular face.


    The images taken by his hired secret cameraman glowed on his monitor.


    For a moment, the grin disappeared as he saw how close it seemed Darren was getting with Amelia. Then he shook his head and chuckled, spinning a pen between his fingers.


    "Well done, Van," he muttered to himself. "I only wanted to keep an eye on my Amelia, but it seems little Darren Steele''s already making moves, eh?"


    His grin widened. "NeuraNest. I remembered you."


    He picked up his phone and dialed Tamara Johnstone. The interim CEO of Horizon Strategies and Investments picked up on the second ring, and with a clipper voice, she spoke:


    "Ryan. It''s never a good day when you call me. What''s this about?" Papers could be heard shuffling in the background.


    "Tamara, darling," Anders purred, leaning forward. "Remember that NeuraNest pitch you laughed out of your office last spring? Two kids, neural nets, small-business nonsense?"


    A pause. "I? You told me to refuse and I did. I remember it vaguely. Why bring it up now?"


    Anders tapped the photo of Darren and Amelia, his eyes glinting. "Because your former school mate, Darren Steele, is chasing it now. Sniffed it out like a dog with a bone. You see, Tammy, Mr. Steele has an eye for profitable assets, I''ll give him that. So I think that this is an opportunity for you... and for me. I say we take it from him ¡ª snatch his little toy before he can play with it."


    Tamara''s breath caught, regardless of her ambition, she had to be careful here. "Steal it? Ryan, my board''s breathing down my neck. I need a win to lock this CEO gig."


    "Exactly," Anders said, voice smooth as venom. "Steele''s playing in our scraps. We move fast, we own NeuraNest, and he''s left with nothing but his ego. I know you''re friends but you should know that he''s now a rival company that could overtake yours. Imagine what the news would say. New investment company finds success in a startup that was abandoned by Horizon. Not good is it? So... crush him, Tamara, and your board''ll kiss your feet."


    She hesitated, then hardened. "Alright. I''m in. What do we do?"


    Anders smirked, zooming in on NeuraNest''s door. "Whatever Darren has offered them, let''s offer even more."

 Chapter 133 133: Betrayal on the ‘Horizon’

    Later that evening, Evan Kimura slouched at the cluttered desk, eyes glued to a laptop screen. Lila Torres sat across, her braided hair loose from a long day, typing furiously on a secondhand keyboard, refining NeuraNest''s neural net code.


    The room felt smaller today, tension coiling beneath the surface like a wire about to snap.


    "How''s it going?" Evan asked her.


    Lila exhaled tiredly. "It just feels like every time I get rid of one coding web, the spider creates a new one."


    "Don''t worry, you''ll get it done. You always do. Just try to do it before tomorrow."


    His laptop suddenly pinged, and he saw a new email flashing. He glanced at Lila, then angled the screen away, his jaw tightening as he read:


    ''From: Ryan Anders, Horizon Strategies and Investments. Subject: Opportunity for NeuraNest.''


    The message was crisp, saying that Horizon Strategies had "re-reviewed" their demo, and was impressed by their "vision.''


    Now, they were offering $200,000 to secure them as investors, with terms to discuss in person. Evan''s pulse quickened.


    $200,000! That was $140,000 more than what that prideful bastard, Darren Steele, was offering.


    His heart began to pound with excitement. He closed the laptop with a snap, avoiding Lila''s curious glance.


    "Something up?" she asked, her voice tired but sharp, fingers pausing mid-code.


    "Nah," Evan said quickly, forcing a grin. "Just spam. You know, scams and crap."


    Lila frowned, her eyes lingering, but she shrugged and turned back to her screen.


    Evan continued to think. This was $200,000 that was on the line here, and besides Horizon''s name carried weight compared to Darren''s company that he''d barely ever heard of until yesterday.


    He took a peek at Lila.


    She would never go for it; she''d cling to Steele, because that''s how she was, all about loyalty and stubborn dreams.


    But that was stupid to Evan. There was nothing that mattered more than getting the most cash out of this. All he saw now were dollar signs, and a ticket out of this damned basement.


    He opened the laptop and sent a reply¡ª''Happy to meet. Name the place.''


    Then he looked at Lila again. His throat dry with guilt.


    --------


    That evening, Evan pushed through the glass door of a modest LA diner with checkered floors and neon signs buzzing over booths.


    The smell of fries and cheap coffee hit him as he spotted Ryan Anders and Tamara Johnstone in a corner, their polished presence jarring against the vinyl seats.


    He recognized them both as this was not his first time meeting them. Also, they were very popular and business TV.


    Evan slid into the booth, his hands jittery, his plain shirt clashing with their polished attires. "Uh, Mr. Anders, Ms. Johnstone," he stammered, a nervous grin breaking through. "Didn''t expect a place like this. Thought it''d be, y''know, fancier."


    Anders'' lips curved to a condescending smile. "Fancy''s for closers, Evan," he said, voice smooth, reserved, every word calculated. "We''re here to talk potential. Your demo caught our eye¡ª again."


    Tamara leaned forward, voice warm and clipped. "You came alone."


    "Y-yes." Evan answered uneasily. "Lila is unfortunately no longer part of NeuraNest. She had to focus on her sick father."


    Tamara narrowed her eyes. "I see. Well, your software is remarkable, Evan. Truly. You''re the visionary behind it, aren''t you? Turning neural nets into something... accessible. That''s a brilliant idea."


    Evan''s chest puffed, greed overriding nerves. "Yeah, that''s me," he lied, voice too loud. "I mean, Lila''s great with code, but the big picture? That''s my thing. Built it from scratch."


    Anders'' eyes flicked to Tamara, a shared glance of predators smelling weakness. "Impressive," he said, sipping his whisky. "We might have been blind to it before, but I assure you, Horizon sees value in visionaries. We''re prepared to offer $200,000 for exclusive investment rights to NeuraNest. We''ll have shares to your code, your brand. Plus 20% equity in our version, backed by our capital. You''d be a partner, not a grunt."


    Evan''s jaw dropped, his fingers twitching. "Two hundred grand? So you were being serious? That''s... whoa. I mean, yeah, I''m in."


    Anders leaned closer, voice dropping, cunning threading every syllable. "Good. Deliver the code by Friday. It should be the full package, no delays. We''ll go through it and handle the rest. Then we''ll tell you where to go from there."


    Evan nodded, awestruck. "Friday''s perfect," he said, voice shaky but greedy. "You got a deal."


    -------


    Later, after Evan had left, Anders and Ryan remained, sharing a drink.


    Anders raised a glass to Tamara, the city''s lights glinting off his whisky. "To NeuraNest," he said, his proud smirk unshakable. "I think trademarking it will be an ironclad idea. That way, Steele will have no way of claiming Investor''s Right."


    Tamara swirled her wine, her sharp features tense despite the victory. "All these bold ideas, Ryan," she said, concise, her feminine lilt masking worry. "You should know my board''s watching every move. If this flops, I''m done as CEO ¡ª interim or not."


    Anders'' eyes gleamed as he gazed at her from head to toe, admiring her feminine beauty, the way her brown cashmere gown hugged her body. "There''s nothing to worry about, Tamara. It won''t flop. I can already tell that Evan''s a greedy pup. He''ll hand us the keys."


    He leaned closer, his hand brushing hers, voice lowering. "And besides, if it''s the CEO position you want so badly, you know... My backing''s your anchor. This win could lock your chair¡ª but letting me vie for you, will certainly give you an edge."


    Tamara gave him a side glance and chucked, mocking, and at the same time, polite and classy.


    She took his hand off hers. "I know all about your escapades with women, Ryan. You could get any woman in the world but you keep going after those you deem a difficult catch. Am I a difficult catch, Ryan?"


    He smiled at her. "You should know."


    Tamara sighed. "Let''s keep it professional, Ryan," she said, her tone soft but final. "The deal''s enough for now."


    Anders chuckled, unfazed, raising his glass again. "As you wish, darling. To crushing Steele, then."


    She clinked his glass, her unease buried under ambition, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.


    ---


    The next morning, sunlight streamed through the Steele Complex''s glass dome, bathing Darren''s office in a warm glow. He stood by his desk, tie loose, his charcoal suit jacket draped over a chair.


    Lila sat across, clutching a written memo of NeuraNest as agreed. Amelia hovered nearby, reviewing terms in the contract. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of air conditioning.


    "Evan didn''t come with you?" Darren asked, noticing the boy''s absence.


    Lila shifted, her hands twisting. "Yeah, he''s under the weather," she said, avoiding his gaze. "Said I could handle it. I''ve got his proxy."


    Darren''s brow arched, unconvinced, his dark eyes boring into her. "Proxy, huh? Lila, can you be honest with me?"


    She flinched a bit, hugging the file in her hand. "Huh? Honest."


    "Yes, honest." Darren said, leaning in. Amelia watched.


    "This software ¡ª NeuraNest ¡ª it''s yours, isn''t it? Not Evan''s. You''re the one bleeding for it."


    Her lips parted, caught, but loyalty held her tongue. "No, I mean... Evan helped," she said, voice small. "He bought our first server, pitched with me. It''s... both of us."


    Darren leaned closer, softening his tone a bit but keeping it firm. "Helping doesn''t mean it''s yours. You saw the way he spoke yesterday, he made it all seem like it was his idea. Why do you just allow that? I''ve seen your code, you''re very talented and you don''t owe him your spotlight."


    Lila''s eyes glistened, her jaw tight. "He''s my friend," she whispered. "I can''t just... out him."


    Darren exhaled, straightening, respecting her grit even if it frustrated him. "Fair enough," he said, sliding the contract to her. "Sign it. Let''s make this real."


    She scrawled her name, then Evan''s proxy, her hand steady despite the weight. Darren looked at Amelia and she handed Lila the rest of the deal: $35,000.


    "Now that''s over," Darren began. "You need to get to work. But first¡ª" He pulled a folded receipt from his pocket, sliding it across. "Your dad''s medical bills. Paid in full, $5,000, as of this morning."


    Lila froze, staring at the receipt, her breath hitching. "You... what?"


    Darren''s voice was low, earnest. "You''re my ally now, Lila. I take care of mine. If you want, I can send a team to move him to Holloway Medicals. All his medical care will be free there, as long as you''re with me."


    Lila was shocked. Her eyes welled, a tear spilling as she clutched the paper. "I... " she choked out, voice breaking. "Hey, can I hug you?"


    Darren paused, taken aback by the request. He glanced at Amelia who smiled and nodded her head. "Alright."


    Slump!


    Lila instantly engulfed him in a tight hug. "Thank you so much! Thank you!"


    "It''s ugh¡ª fine."


    When she let go of Darren, he looked down at her, gaze intense.


    "Listen. I''m only your business partner but you should know that life is going to be different for you now. You should start to stand up for what''s yours."


    He narrowed his eyes at her like a strict uncle. "Always. No one else gets to claim your work. Got it?"


    She nodded, wiping her cheek. "Got it."


    "Good. Go code. I''ll see you tomorrow."


    Lila stood, clutching the receipt like a lifeline, and left, her steps lighter despite the basement waiting.


    With a cold expression on his face, Darren watched her go, multiple thoughts brewing inside his mind.


    Amelia stepped closer. "What are you thinking, sir?"


    Darren remained still. "I don''t know, Amy," he replied with a heavy voice. "But there''s something going on here."

 Chapter 134: Trouble

    There was a spare room in the Steele Complex. Actually, there were many spare rooms and one of these, Darren had repurposed to be a lab.


    Inside, the air buzzed with the hum of high-end servers and the faint scent of ozone from cooling fans. Three monitors glowed on a sleek workbench, casting sharp light over Darren, Lila Torres, and Amelia.


    Darren stood at the center, tie gone, sleeves rolled up, his dark eyes scanning code like a general reading a battlefield. Corporate mode Darren was gone for now and this was work mode Darren. Ready to brainstorm.


    Lila sat at a keyboard, her braided hair pinned messily, her fingers flying as she refined NeuraNest''s neural net.


    She paused, her eyes flicking to Darren, soft with gratitude. "Oh, Mr. Steele," she began, "I needed to say... Thanks again ¡ª for yesterday. Paying Dad''s bills, getting him into Holloway Medicals... I don''t know how to repay you."


    Darren waved it off, not wanting to lose focus. "You''re repaying me by coding like a genius, Lila. Your dad''s where he needs to be. Focus on making this¡ª" he tapped a monitor¡ª"sing for me."


    She nodded, a shy smile breaking through. "Still... It means everything. He slept better last night than he has in months."


    Amelia glanced up, her hazel eyes softening. "That''s amazing, Lila," she said, her tone gentle, shy but sincere. "You''re doing so much, and it''s... inspiring."


    Lila blushed, ducking her head. "Just trying to keep up with you two."


    Darren leaned against the workbench, crossing his arms. "Alright, enough mush. Let''s talk tech. Lila, where''s the software at? I want accuracy above 95% before we test retail."


    Lila spun her monitor, lines of Python gleaming. They were clean and modular, and when she started to explain, it was clear she''d spent sleepless nights on this.


    "We''re at 93% on the deli dataset," she said, technical but alive. "I tweaked the dropout rate ¡ª 0.3 now ¡ª to cut overfitting. Next is scaling the input layer for bigger shops, maybe 10,000 transactions. Needs a new server, though."


    Darren nodded, in his mind, he was thinking. Not about the code, but about markets.


    Since this product was not big in the former timeline, the Investor System could not tell him exactly how successful it would be, so everything was up to his prediction, mathematics and analysis.


    "Good," he said. "Scale is the key factor here. Small businesses are our bread, but if we crack chains, we''re talking millions. Amelia, what exactly is the market saying?"


    Amelia flipped her notebook. "Retail looks ripe. The year has been a mess for mom-and-pop shops. Bankruptcies are up 8% since ''08. A tool like NeuraNest cutting waste by even 10%, could grab 12% market share in Calivernia by 2012. Imagine 5,000 stores, $50,000 each in savings. Chains are trickier; Walmart''s got in-house tech, but mid-tier like Rite Aid have been bleeding. A lean AI could hook them."


    Darren''s brow arched, impressed. "12%? Amy, that''s awesome. I like it. I have a similar read. I believe that small retail is desperate, but even at that, even though we can bank on their desperation, mid-tier''s where the cash is. If we hit 95% accuracy, we could pitch to, say, 7-Eleven. Their stock''s flat ¡ª $10 a share ¡ª but a 15% efficiency bump could double it by 2013."


    He tapped a finger, calculating. "The risk is high, though. No timeline data means we''re betting blind. One glitch and we''re toast."


    Lila frowned, her passion flaring. "No glitches, I promise. I''m triple-checking every weight. This is my baby and I won''t let it crash."


    Amelia smiled, scribbling. "I''ve got adoption curves¡ª $200 per license, 2,000 users by Q2. Low price, high volume. We''d clear $400,000, and then reinvest in servers."


    Darren grinned, gaining more confidence on this product. "That''s the play. Keep it cheap, flood the market. Lila, push that accuracy. Amy, nail the pricing model. We are taking over the market with this product."


    Then he paused. "Where''s Evan?"


    Lila quickly answered. "Oh, he''s still got a fever."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. "Fever, huh? Second day running. He must have the worst immune system in Los Alverez. No one gets a fever in this hot city."


    Amelia glanced at him, her pen stilling. She caught the edge in his voice, but said nothing, her shy loyalty holding.


    Lila shrugged, uneasy. "He''ll bounce back. Can you watch this? I need to use the bathroom."


    Darren looked at her with an intense expression, then he nodded just once. When she disappeared into the bathroom, his gaze rested on the computer, waiting for him.


    -------


    That night, Lila''s hostel room was a cramped nook of peeling paint and thrift-store furniture, her laptop glowing on a wobbly desk.


    She''d just saved a new module for the system when a knock rattled the door. Evan stood there, pale, a hoodie hiding his jittery eyes, shaking slightly to point out that yeah, he was still sick.


    "Hey, Lila," he said, forcing a cough. "I think I''m feeling better. Wanted to check in."


    She frowned, stepping aside. "You look rough. Shouldn''t you be resting?"


    "Nah, I''m good," he said, too quick, eyeing her laptop. "Come on, show me what you got. Keep me in the loop."


    Lila hesitated, then opened the code. "Just tweaks," she said, scrolling. "Mr. Steele wants more accuracy and it''s actually climbing. 94% now."


    Evan nodded, greedy eyes locked on the screen. "That''s amazing. Hey, mind if I crash a sec? And... uh... can you get me some water?"


    She shrugged, heading to the tiny kitchenette. The second she turned, Evan jammed a USB into her laptop, copying the code in seconds, his hands shaking. He yanked it out as she returned, pocketing it with a fake yawn.


    He took the water and gulped down as much as he could.


    "Gotta bounce," he said after, coughing again. "Rest up, yeah?"


    "Evan¡ª" Lila started, but he was gone, the door clicking shut, leaving her with a nagging ache she couldn''t name.


    "What''s up with him?"


    ¨C------


    Two days later, Evan strode into Horizon Strategies'' office. Ryan Anders was present, sitting at a polished table, his navy suit crisp, his angular face a mask of cunning calm.


    Tamara Johnstone stood by a window, wearing a sharp cream dress, with her auburn hair pinned on top in a fine bun. Evan handed over his USB, his grin cocky but nervous.


    "Here''s the code," he said, voice loud. "Full package ¡ª NeuraNest''s heart. Trust me, after everything I''ve done building this software, you''re getting a steal."


    Anders took the drive, a thin smile on his face. "Prompt delivery, Evan. I like that." He passed it to Tamara, his eyes glinting. "File the trademark today and NeuraNest will be yours, and its wealth will be mine to manage. Steele can''t touch it."


    Tamara looked down at the USB, her tone concise but eager. "You keep mentioning Darren Steele, but I''ve made it clear to you that he''s not the reason I''m doing this. Sure, outsmarting a rival company could help my odds, but I simply want to get this win."


    Ryan Anders smirked. "Whatever you say, Miss Johnstone."


    She tightened her jaw. "I''m pushing the demo for Friday, buyers are lined up. We''ll call it ''AI for all.'' She turned to Evan. "Can you sell that?"


    Evan puffed up, lying easy. "Hell yeah. It''s my baby. It predicts everything and it scales like crazy. You''ll see."


    Her eyes narrowed ¡ª this guy was too vague, dodging tech details ¡ª but Anders''s nod silenced her doubt. "Good," she said, forcing a smile. "Hype it big. We launch next week."


    Anders leaned back, his voice low, proud. "Don''t worry about a thing, Tamara. We own the board now."


    She clutched the USB, her ambition overriding unease. "Let''s hope so," she said, her fingers tight. "My board''s not forgiving."


    --------


    The next morning, Lila pushed through the Steele Complex''s glass doors, her backpack heavy with notes, her eyes brighter.


    She had seen her dad last night, and it seemed Holloway''s care had eased his pain. Life was more colorful now. There was hope.


    Darren greeted her in the lab, looking all ready to work with those sleeves rolled up and showing his strong, masculine arm¡ª


    No, Lila. Not those kinds of thoughts!


    She saw Amelia standing by in a neat blazer neat. She waved. "Hey."


    Lila waved back. "Hey. Good morning."


    "Ready to keep building?" Darren asked.


    "Born ready," Lila said, her grin fierce, dropping her bag.


    "Got new pricing models ¡ª $150 per license, and aiming for 3,000 users by Q3." Amelia reported.


    Lila cracked her knuckles, diving into code. "I''m pushing for 95% today. No stopping."


    Darren shifted his gaze at the both of them. "Alright team. Get to work."

 Chapter 135: Pitch Day

    Today was the Pitch Day.


    On days like this, the board members of Horizon Strategies and Investments gathered together to listen to ideas, plans and investment strategies that could move the company further.


    So, for Tamara, it was a very important day. Despite being the interim CEO, she knew power was not fully in her grasp, and her brother was ready to take it from her.


    Many of the board members in fact preferred him to her.


    NeuraNest was her chance to sway their opinions and lock in their votes.


    The boardroom was a perfectly polished place, with windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.


    Morning light sprayed inside through these windows, shining light on the long mahogany table that dominated the space.


    Surrounding this table were twelve board members in tailored suits, their eyes sharp and expectant.


    Tamara Johnstone stood at the head, her cream dress hugging her curves, auburn hair swept into an elegant chignon. Her smile was feminine, practiced, but her fingers tapped the podium ¡ª a flicker of the pressure bearing down on her interim CEO title.


    Beside her, Evan Kimura fidgeted, wearing a cheap button-up that was too tight at the collar, and a jittery grin on his face.


    "Welcome, everyone," Tamara began, maintaining a cutting and formal voice. "As you know, today''s a Pitch Day, and I want to use this chance to unveil to you; NeuraNest."


    A PowerPoint display started on the screen behind her.


    "NeuraNest is a neural network poised to redefine small-business and investment efficiency. This young man to my right is Evan Kimura, its visionary. Allow him to demonstrate."


    Evan stepped forward, USB in hand, plugging it into the projector. The PowerPoint display left the screen and lit up again with the NeuraNest code.


    "Hello everyone. It is an honor to be amongst you. Uh¡ª" He looked at Tamara who kept a stern face. "Alright, uh, let''s dive in."


    The demo loaded: a mock florist shop and graphs predicting rose sales, flagging overstocked lilies with 92% accuracy. It was smooth on this scale with 10,000 transactions, Lila''s stolen work shining through.


    "This is NeuraNest," Evan declared, he was reading straight from the speech Lila had drafted for their joint pitch. "It is an AI neural net software that learns your business ¡ª stock, trends, customers ¡ª like a brain in your back office. During this process, it saves you thousands, no sweat."


    The board leaned in, murmurs rippling. A gray-haired exec, glasses glinting, spoke up. "From what I see, the accuracy''s good, but scale? Can it handle a chain?"


    Evan''s grin faltered, but he rallied, stealing more of Lila''s lines. "Yes, it can. NeuraNest is built to grow. Today it functions for mom-and-pop, then tomorrow it works for Target. I designed it that way." His lie hung heavy, but the demo''s polish sold it, the code hiding its fatal overfit.


    After more explanation, the board members seemed to have at least picked up great interest in the product.


    Tamara''s smile widened, sensing victory. "Questions?" she asked, praying that there was no doubt. Thankfully, none came, the board ¡ª most of them at least ¡ª nodded approvingly.


    "Then I propose $5 million to accelerate NeuraNest. This will be for servers, coders, and for a beta launch by next week."


    Evan''s eyes widened as his mind exploded. ''$5 million? What the hell?! I''m fucking rich!''


    The exec nodded. "Motion approved. Five million, Tamara. You know what this means for you. So don''t waste it."


    Her shoulders relaxed, a rare crack in her poise. "Thank you," she said, concise, triumph lacing her words. She turned to Evan, her eyes appraising. "Well done, Evan."


    "Uh, sure," he stammered, awestruck, pocketing the USB like a trophy.


    --------


    Hours later, in Horizon''s glass-walled lounge, Tamara and Ryan Anders clinked champagne flutes, the city''s dusk glow bathing them in gold.


    The trademark for NeuraNest had cleared that afternoon ¡ª filed at Anders'' urging. That meant they''d successfully locked Darren out. He had no chance of claiming Investor''s Right or ownership.


    Tamara sipped, her sharp features softer with victory. Anders, in a navy suit, leaned back, his hair dropping over his smug face, reserved pride radiating.


    "Oh I just wish to see the look on his face when he sees the launch." Anders said, venomous delight in his voice. "Poo poo poor Darren Steele. Scouted a product that is now ours, trademarked and funded. He''s got nothing but a basement dream."


    Tamara chuckled lightly. "You shouldn''t keep saying that around me, you know? Makes me feel that my whole reason for this was to mess with Darren. I hold no ill will for him, truly. He''s made a name for himself pretty quickly. But my company needed this. Five million says we''re ahead."


    Anders chuckled, his eyes glinting. "Well, good for you. As for me, I''ve got plenty of ill will. Steele''s a brat who poached my Amelia and spat on my partnership. This?" He swirled his glass. "This is personal."


    Tamara''s smile tightened, thinking about the board and her father. "As long as it''s profitable," she said, draining her flute. She pulled an envelope from her purse, sliding it to Anders. "For Evan ¡ª another $200,000. Push him to scale it fast. I want demos nationwide by Friday."


    Anders looked at it. "Why''re you giving it to me?"


    She sighed. "I don''t like the guy. He looks weird, and the more I see him, the more uncertain I feel about this stuff. So... just help me out here."


    Anders took the envelope. "Sure."


    ---


    Across town, the Steele Complex''s locked lab pulsed with quiet triumph.


    "I did it! I did it! It''s done!" Lila exclaimed, hitting enter excitedly. "96% accuracy! With the deli dataset, all 20,000 transactions had no hiccups. The UI''s smooth, and it easily scales to 100,000. It''s complete! I can''t believe it!"


    Looking at the screen, a smile of satisfaction and relief stretched on Darren''s face. He clapped. "Great work, Lila. You''re a damn wizard."


    "Thank you! Oh my God, I can''t believe it!"


    Amelia laughed too. "The market''s ready as well. It''s set at $150 for a license, 4,000 users by Q4, that''s a projected $600,000."


    Darren nodded. ''Take that, system! I didn''t use you at all this time, just math and instinct, and it worked!''


    "This is our shot," he said with a low and commanding voice. "Small shops first, then chains. We launch quietly, let the numbers scream."


    Lila spun her chair, eyes sparkling. "I can''t wait to show Evan. He''s gonna flip when he sees this."


    Darren''s grin faded. He glanced at Amelia, who stilled, catching his shift. "Lila," he called with a serious tone.


    The girl stopped celebrating and looked at him. "Eh?"


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. "I need to talk to you. Alone."


    Lila blinked, curiosity knitting her brow. "Okay."


    She followed him into his office as Amelia watched silently.


    -------------


    Some minutes later, Lila stepped out of the building itself, her hoodie up, now leaving after the day''s job and heading for her hostel.


    But, she was unaware of the eyes on her. Across the street, the wiry cameraman in his cheap leather jacket was back again.


    He was crouched behind a parked van, his camera trained on her retreating figure.


    Click! A shot of her.


    Click! A shot of the Complex.


    Click! tTe Aston Martin One-77 parked nearby.


    Click! Another shot of Lila.


    "Try taking it from a lower angle," a voice said behind him.


    Van crouched, mindlessly taking the voice''s advice as he angled the camera and took another shot.


    "No, you''re not doing it right," the person said, plucking the camera from his hands. "Let me try."


    Van''s fingers fumbled, and it was then his mind snapped into the reality of what was happening.


    He spun instantly, and right there was Darren Steele ¡ª in a dark suit, red tie, and glaring at him indifferently.


    Van stumbled back, and with a rush of flaring panic, he began to run. But not long after his feet took speed, he crashed into a wall of muscle ¡ª a security guard, bald and stone-faced, blocking his path.


    Van fell to the ground.


    Dink! Dink! The sound of Darren''s approaching footsteps rhymed with his pounding heart.


    The young CEO looked down at him and grinned predatorily


    "Hey, buddy. Why the rush? I just wanna borrow your lens for a chat ¡ª get a better ''shot'' of what you''re up to."

 Chapter 136: Curve Ball

    A week has passed and it was time for the official beta launch of NeuraNest!


    The conference room at Horizon Strategies and Investments buzzed with a frenetic hum, like a hive on the verge of collapse.


    Crystal chandeliers cast sharp light over the floors of marble, and the air carried the sharp tang of espresso and nervous sweat. Staff darted between sleek tables, adjusting banners emblazoned with ''NeuraNest: The Future of Business.''


    A massive screen loomed at the front, ready to dazzle with Evan''s demo, which was set to launch in hours.


    Tamara Johnstone stood at the podium, her cream suit pristine, auburn hair pinned tight, her feminine poise a mask for the board''s weight on her shoulders.


    She continuously read through the script in her hand, one she had already memorized. She couldn''t help it. She desperately needed this to be perfect.


    This was her moment to lock the CEO title, to prove she deserved more than interim.


    "Hey! Don''t you see where you''re goi¡ª" A decorator, who was about to yell because someone had stepped on the ribbons silenced instantly when she realized it was Ryan Anders.


    But the way he had strode in. Was there a problem? Why was he walking so urgently in a light hearted time?


    "Tamara," Ryan barked, a dark expression on his face. "Turn on the television."


    She blinked, her manicured hand pausing mid-gesture. "What?"


    "Turn it on," he snapped, voice low and venomous. "Business Today. Now."


    A staffer fumbled with a remote, and the screen flickered to life, drowning the room''s buzz in a heartbeat.


    There, on a packed stage at the press conference room of the Steele Complex, Darren Steele stood in a suit for an occasion.


    Beside him, was a young girl that Tamara recognized as Lila Torres, Evan''s former associate.


    Ryan narrowed his eyes at the sight of Amelia, clutching a tablet, looking steady and formal. Then, Rachel, Darren''s secretary, with a stack of contracts in hand.


    Behind them, a display blazed: ''Unveiling Our First Major Project''. There was a small crowd¡ª investors, reporters, and tech heads ¡ª all in seats, rapt.


    Tamara''s breath caught, and her eyes darted around the screen. "Wha¡ª what the hell is happening here?"


    -----------


    Darren gripped the mic, and began the speech with a smooth, resonant voice, cutting through the murmur like a blade.


    "As we know, investing''s a gamble," he said. "Small businesses know that best. They pour everything ¡ª heart, cash, sleepless nights ¡ª into surviving. But as we also know, the market is brutal. Margins shrink, trends shift, and half the time, they''re guessing blind. Stock too much, you''re broke. Stock too little, you''re dead. That''s not a game; it''s a trap."


    The crowd nodded, a ripple of agreement. He paced, slow, deliberate. "Big firms have tech ¡ª data, forecasts, armies of analysts. Small shops? They''ve got grit and not much else. Until now."


    He stopped, producing a sharp and confident smirk.


    Tamara widened her eyes in shock. "What is he going to say? NeuraNest is mine!"


    ...


    "Steele Investments is proud to unveil Trendteller."


    She gasped. "What?!"


    Ryan Anders narrowed his eyes. ''Darren Steeleee.''


    "Trendteller is a neural network that levels the field. It learns your business ¡ª inventory, sales, customers ¡ª and predicts what''s next, down to the penny. Miss a trend? Not anymore."


    A screen flared behind him, showing a deli''s dashboard.


    Trendteller predicted coffee sales up 18% for summer, flagged overstocked bagels, and saved $2,000 in a month for the deli.


    "Woaahhhhh!"


    Murmurs grew ¡ª execs scribbled, reporters typed. Darren''s eyes swept the room, locking briefly on Brooklyn Baker, who gave him a big smile of approval as she wrote down the story.


    "And don''t worry. We have something for the big players as well," he continued, "Alongside Trendteller, we will launch the beta software for Trendteller+. It is the same brain, but on a bigger scale. Chains, franchises, even investment firms. It crunches millions of transactions, spots market shifts before they hit. Trendteller+ offers you efficiency, and efficiency isn''t just savings; it''s power."


    He turned, gesturing to Lila, his voice softening, proud. "As much as I would like to take credit for this wonderful invention, Trendteller isn''t my brainchild. It''s hers. Meet Lila Torres, Trendteller''s pioneer and creator."


    Lila stepped forward, her hands steady, her voice clear, vibrant with passion. "Thank you, Mr Steele."


    After smiling at him, she faced the crowd.


    "Trendteller is just code, but it is also more than that," she began, clicking a remote. The screen shifted, showing predictions for a bookstore, then a gym, then a family restaurant, all 96% accurate.


    "It''s also a partner. I built it to think like a shop owner ¡ª watch every sale, every season, and learn. For that gym, it caught a 22% drop in protein shake demand after a local marathon. Saved them $1,500. A clothing store? It flagged a denim surplus before back-to-school and it cut the losses by 10%."


    She paused, her eyes shining. "This is for the dreamers who can''t afford to guess. And I will forever thank Mr. Darren Steele for seeing that vision and making it real."


    Applause! Rounds and rounds of applause.


    Tamara just stared, eyes twitching. ''What the¡ª hell is happening?''


    Amelia took the mic next. "We tested Trendteller at a deli here in Los Alverez," she said assuredly. "One month, 20% less waste, $3,000 saved. That''s not a fluke ¡ª it''s proof. Small businesses can thrive, not just survive."


    Rachel joined in. "Trendteller launches at $150 per license ¡ª affordable for any shop," she said. "*Trendteller+* starts at $15,000 for chains, tiered by scale. If you''re interested in stocks, please email our financial team or meet Miss Sandy Meyers."


    Brooklyn Baker raised a hand, her voice sharp. "Lila, how fast can Trendteller scale nationally?"


    Lila grinned, unfazed. "With servers, it can scale in six months. That should be around 5,000 stores. The code is modular; it grows as you do."


    The crowd erupted ¡ª claps, flashes, a tidal wave of buzz. And Darren stood back, admiring all of it.

 Chapter 137: Plan Backfires

    "With that, Ladies and gentlemen, we at Steele Investments would like to officially launch our first product, Trendteller!"


    The screen illuminated with a white and golden display of graphs, numbers and dollar signs, then the logo of the software appeared, before the name followed: ''Trendteller. Never invest blind.''


    Then the channel went to an ad break that was muted by the staff.


    Silence.


    Shock.


    Back at Horizon, Tamara''s face drained to ash, her manicured nails had dug so deep into the podium and she didn''t even know when it happened.


    ''What the hell just happened? What has happened now?''


    She tried not to believe it, not to understand what was going on even though she completely did.


    Ryan Anders sighed nonchalantly, hands in pockets. He turned to Tamara as the strands of his long hair shifted to the side. His face was disengaged. "It seems Darren Steele has played us."


    He returned his gaze to the screen. "Again."


    "P¡ª P¡ª Played us?" Tamara stammered in disbelief. "He played us? H¡ª how? How could he? We... We have the software! The software is ours!"


    Denial was always the first to hit.


    Everyone in the room was quiet, looking at Tamara with voiceless gazes ¡ª or whispering ones rather ¡ª while her eyes quivered in horror.


    The screen''s glow felt like a spotlight on her ruin, and even the silence started to irk her. "What are you all looking at!" she raged. "That''s our product! Darren Steele just stole our product!"


    No one said a word.


    Except Anders of course.


    "Technically, he didn''t," he explained, still calm, frustratingly so. "His product is Trendteller, ours is... NeuraNest."


    Tamara''s eyes flashed at him, when she spoke, her voice cracked. "Are you joking? It''s the same thing! He just changed the name. It''s the same product, the same software. Our product!"


    "Still going to be difficult to prove in court. Having similar products doesn''t mean they''re the same."


    Seeing Anders wasn''t being helpful, Tamara spun around, thinking as she paced around. "The board members will eat me alive. The software, how did he get it? Was it Evan? Was that bastard two timing us?"


    "Doubt it. It was the girl. Did you not see the Lila who spoke? It seems she was the one who actually created the software."


    Tamara frowned deeply, filled with fear. "The one that Evan said she pulled out? Evan was lying? About that and about being the creator?"


    Anders stood frozen, his reserved mask still there. "Now that I think about it, after hearing both of them speak, it''s clear she''s more informed on the matter than him."


    Tamara grabbed her phone, dialing Evan. Each time it rang, it said straight to voicemail, again and again. "He''s gone," she said, panic rising.


    Anders shrugged. "What did you expect? He must have seen this on his way here. Now, he''s running."


    "No. No. No. This can''t be happening." Tamara snapped to a staffer. "Send men to his place. Now!"


    "You! Get me everything about him. All his information. Relatives. Possible places he could hide. Transactions!"


    ''Yes ma''am!"


    "The software. Run it the way she did. The girl on the TV. Lila Torres." Tamara demanded. "Use it on the same fictional deli. Does it produce the same results!"


    She hurried to the man she was talking to, heels clicking with urgency as Ryan just turned around and watched.


    "If it does produce the same results," Tamara continued, "Then, Anders. We could sue for plagiarism and infringement of Investor''s Right."


    The aide, pale, tapped a laptop, testing NeuraNest''s code as Lila had on the TV. He introduced the deli, then lined up the millions of transactions, not thousands.


    Suddenly, the screen froze, then crashed, errors spitting like venom. The aide looked at Tamara, not daring to speak.


    With every error that appeared on the screen, Tamara felt a biting pain in her heart. All her money''s work. It had... vanished.


    "It... doesn''t work," she stammered. "It''s overfitted. It works small, then dies big. Before, we checked small-scale, they must have assumed..."


    Her voice died off, tired of explaining. "It just... it doesn''t work like theirs."


    Ryan didn''t look surprised. "Of course it doesn''t work. Darren Steele isn''t foolish. He knows the laws behind these things. He won again. We can only accept defeat now."


    Tamara''s knees buckled, her breath shallow. "Accept defeat?!" she growling, whirling and stomping towards Anders. "What do you think this is? Some kind of game? You dragged me into your stupid obsession with Darren Steele and now I''m the one paying the consequences for it! This is your fault, Ryan!"


    She got on his face, pointing at his tie. "You pushed me towards that investment. You sold that brat, Evan, to me! You lied! You said Steele was chasing scraps! You said this investment was guaranteed to lock me the CEO position and now I have nothing! I have nothing! I''m going to lose it all, just because of you!"


    Anders'' face darkened. He used his hand to slowly take her finger off his chest. "You are ridiculous, and you are an idiot."


    Tamara''s eyes turned red.


    "You''re an investor. You can''t pin this on me because I suggested an investment, darling," he said, reserved but cutting. "I suggested; you are the one who invested. I can never force you to invest. Even the five million was your call, not mine."


    Her eyes blazed, tears brimming.


    "Are you gonna cry?" Anders laughed at her face. "They say women belong in the workplace and then you cry because you lost an investment?"


    Tamara tried to steel herself when she heard that. The anger she got from the words helped her to achieve that. "My authority is crumbling," she choked. "Five million¡ªgone. My board''ll fire me. My brother will take over and I''ll never be CEO."


    Anders dusted his blazer. "None of that is my problem," he said, then added just as he started to leave. "Should''ve checked the code yourself."


    Anger flaring, heart beating, Tamara turned to her workers. "Find me Evan Kimura!"


    As they frantically did as they were told, she stumbled to her office, the conference room''s chaos fading behind her.


    Once she sat down, she dialed Darren, her voice trembling as he picked up. "Darren," she said, desperation raw.


    "Tamara," Darren''s casual voice replied. S clearly feigned casualness. "Surprised that you''re calling me at such a time."


    "Cut the games, Darren. I know what you did. You tricked us. NeuraNest ¡ª Trendteller ¡ª it''s the same. You used part of my money to build the software. Refund it, or I''ll sue for fraud. My investment was in your success!"


    Darren''s voice came cool, unshaken, a blade wrapped in silk. "Well you''re just going to have to prove that in court, aren''t you, Tamara?"


    She clenched her jaw.


    "Let''s not kid ourselves here. You invested in Evan''s lies, not my tech, Tamara. Your money''s in NeuraNest, you even trademarked it, right? I''m sure you thought that was clever, but it''s the major thing stopping you from laying claim to anything Trendteller. Sorry, Tammy. But you made a big mistake challenging me."


    "Wait¡ª"


    She gasped as the line died.


    Then, her office suddenly felt too silent, too judgmental. The cupboards, the books, the pens were all laughing at her, mocking her.


    Her phone buzzed, and when she looked down, she saw it was text from her father, stark and cold: ''Why''d we lose millions?''


    Tamara''s heart sank and she placed her head on the table, the glass tower''s silence swallowing her.


    Her shoulders shook as she cried. Because now, she knew that there was no path left for her to become the CEO of her family''s company.


    Who was she kidding? It was not like she ever stood a chance.

 Chapter 138: The Game was Rigged

    The game was rigged.


    From day one.


    And no one saw it coming.


    While Horizon scrambled and flailed in the aftermath of their million-dollar collapse, while Tamara''s poised ambition burned down into boardroom ash, and Evan''s cowardice swallowed him whole ¡ª Darren Steele stood still.


    Because everything... had gone exactly as planned.


    And it all began with the Weekly Quest''s reward.


    ---------


    The system reward came quietly. After Darren had invested the first $65,000 venture on NeuraNest, the system had chimed.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve completed the Weekly Quest, Strong Start: Strong Start: Begin your first week strong by finding a hidden gem in poor startups and investing in them. Reward for this quest is high tier.©¿


    ©³Reward: UCP ¨C Unauthorized Copycat Protocol.©¿


    When Darren first saw the name, his brows furrowed. The reward shimmered in red, the color for high-tier rewards.


    The name was weird, and everything about it seemed off. Unauthorized? Copycat?


    To get more information, Darren tapped the icon, but he would still see that his perception of the reward was a hundred percent correct.


    ©³UCP allows the user to scan and interpret any existing digital creation ¡ª codebase, algorithmic structure, mathematical model, or investment framework ¡ª and create a customized derivative. This derivative is legally distinct, functionally superior if edited right, and cannot be traced back to the original.©¿


    What the fuck kind of reward was that?


    Imagine if Gareth Smithers had it. It would be something he would like to have, wouldn''t it?


    The reward was powerful. Too powerful.


    In fact, Darren stared at the interface for nearly an hour that night, pacing the glass corridors of the Steele Complex. A part of him hated it ¡ª it felt dirty, underhanded.


    He couldn''t see himself using a reward like this? Stealing people''s framework and ideas with just one glance.


    But the system reminded him:


    ©³Tools are not crimes. The user is the judgment.©¿


    Still, Darren decided not to touch it. If he was going to, he would need a really good reason.


    Well, a really good reason came not very long after.


    Evan Kimura''s grin, smug and twitching with false confidence, had told Darren one thing during the NeuraNest demo: this man was pretending.


    Every time Evan claimed he built it, every time he pushed forward to take credit ¡ª Darren''s system blinked quietly in his head.


    ©³This person is being dishonest with you©¿


    Rather than bringing it up then, Darren had decided to stay quiet, while studying the make up of the relationship between the two. Evan and Lila.


    He began to see that Lila was the true creator and the mind behind everything! Evan was the one who got her stuff and hung around so she could pay him back eventually.


    But rather than just say that, he decided to ride Lila''s back ¡ª her code, her sweat, her sleepless nights.


    And that meant... Darren couldn''t trust him.


    He also couldn''t accuse him. Not yet.


    So he waited, because he knew a person as greedy as Evan would eventually try something.


    When one of his security analysts reported that someone had been snapping photos of the Steele Complex from across the street, Darren didn''t panic. He played along. He hired a security expert ¡ª the big bald one ¡ª to tail the tail.


    That was when he began laying the trap.


    Two Versions. One Victory.


    The real moment came that day in the lab.


    Lila had stood up casually, said, "Can you keep an eye on the computer? I need to use the bathroom."


    Darren looked at her with an intense expression, then he nodded just once. When she disappeared into the bathroom, his gaze rested on the computer, waiting for him.


    What did he do?


    Well, Darren finally used the reward. He activated UCP and the system scanned the NeuraNest codebase in seconds, separating logic strands, sorting neural loops, and identifying every training protocol like a surgeon.


    He saved a full copy ¡ª clean, elegant, and bug-free.


    Then... he tainted the active one.


    Ordering UCP, he made changes as the reward allowed. He corrupted it subtly ¡ª introduced overfitting thresholds, memory leaks, and time bomb subroutines that would crash the model once it crossed small-scale thresholds.


    A poisoned gift.


    That night, Lila returned home, proud of her progress. Evan came knocking soon after, still faking sick. He copied the version from her laptop without her knowing ¡ª the infected version ¡ª and delivered it to Ryan Anders and Tamara.


    They swallowed it whole.


    The next morning, Lila showed up with renewed energy.


    Darren casually swapped the poisoned code back with the clean, original version. And when she glanced at her screen and muttered, "I could''ve sworn it was glitching last night..." he smiled quietly and offered no reply.


    After they successfully crossed the 96% threshold and she was excited about telling Evan, Darren knew it was time to tell her everything.


    As he had told Amelia.


    He told her about Evan. About the camera man. About the lies. She was crushed. But she was sharp. Loyal. When Evan came around to her hostel, Lila played her part perfectly as Darren directed her.


    "Be a good liar. Act normal. Hide your anger and your excitement."


    "No progress today," she lied to Evan with a soft smile. "I''m still working on it."


    Evan believed it, leaving her in her room.


    That way, the 96% update was safe and Darren''s plan grew legs.


    For the man across the street ¡ª Van, who had been tailing them under Ryan''s orders; After Darren and the guard caught him, he and his security detail made Van send photos of Darren and Amelia working on nothing suspicious. Just some late night chats. A few papers. Laptops. Smiles.


    Nothing about Lila. Nothing about code.


    Had Van sent even one photo of Lila leaving Darren''s office... Anders would''ve questioned Evan. Would''ve sniffed out the lie. Would''ve realized he didn''t own the real NeuraNest.


    Darren didn''t want that. He wanted them to continue digging their own graves, allowing their desperation to guide them.


    Anders'' desperation to humiliate Darren, and Tamara''s desperation to be CEO of her company.


    So far, people''s desperation has been Darren''s most efficient tool.


    Always reliable. Even in this case.


    When Evan secured the $2 million from Tamara to "scale NeuraNest," he proudly brought the funding back to Lila.


    He didn''t know that by then... she wasn''t working for NeuraNest anymore.


    Darren had trademarked an entirely new brand ¡ª Trendteller. It was sleek. Legal. Untouched by Horizon Strategies. And every improvement Lila built with that funding? It went into Trendteller.


    With Tamara''s own money!


    This was because she had no contracts with Trendteller. She had one with NeuraNest which was basically no longer a thing, since there was no NeuraNest without Lila Torres.


    So when Tamara assumed she had paid to scale her own product ¡ª in reality, she had just given Darren''s company two million dollars for free.


    And it was that money... that funded the creation of Trendteller+.


    --------------


    And Then Came The Endgame


    At the official NeuraNest beta launch, Horizon was ready to gloat. Tamara stood tall. Evan beamed like a child with crayons.


    But Darren struck first.


    Across town, with cameras flashing and investors watching, Darren unveiled Trendteller. Lila stepped out and claimed her rightful spotlight. Amelia, Rachel, and even Brooklyn Baker ¡ª they all played their roles, supporting a product built to shine.


    By the time Tamara realized what had happened, it was too late.


    NeuraNest crashed under demo pressure. Evan vanished. Her board began sharpening their knives. Her brother''s evil smile flashed in her mind.


    And Darren? He was pouring himself some expensive, well fermented, celebratory wine.


    Ding!


    ©³Congratulations! You have completed the Monthly Quest: Outmaneuver a Rival.©¿

 Chapter 139: Hashrates and Heat

    ©³Reward Granted: Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer©¿


    ©³The Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer is a high-tier system reward that grants the host real-time insight into the Bitcoin network, including mining difficulty projections, optimal hash strategies, hardware stress analytics, and power-to-reward ratios. It simulates potential configurations, predicts future profitability, and highlights hidden inefficiencies across his rigs¡ªessentially acting as an AI-level strategic advisor for maximizing mining output and minimizing loss.©¿


    It was a high tier reward, and it was exactly what Darren was looking for going forward.


    Lila''s father had made a full recovery after surgery, Trendteller hit the market for its first week, while Trendteller+ remained in beta, awaiting investors willing to pay to test it out.


    Darren had appreciated Amelia''s hard work with another dinner where they spent time laughing about their victory over Horizon Strategies and Ryan Anders.


    But for the next day of the first week, all of that ¡ª the casualness and laughs ¡ª were thrown out the window. It was time for business.


    Time for mining.


    The moment Darren opened the key-card locked doors to the Operations Room, a wave of heat and humming filled his senses.


    The room pulsed with low-frequency energy, a symphony of silicon and ambition. This was the forge. The crucible. The beating heart of something only a few minds in the world could understand.


    Ten Radeon HD 5870 GPU rigs lined the metal racks like digital stallions, their red-and-green LEDs blinking with life.


    There was an issue. Everywhere was hot.


    The GPUs first of all, they weren''t just hot ¡ª they seemed angry. Fans roared like distant jet engines, swirling currents of air around carefully placed exhaust vents. Every degree mattered.


    Kara was already inside, clipboard in hand, ponytail swinging as she zig-zagged past each rig, checking temperature logs and voltage meters. She turned as Darren entered, flashing her trademark grin.


    "Morning, boss. You can feel that, right? Everything is humming like a monster. There''s a temp spike on Rig 4 but nothing we can''t handle."


    Darren nodded, stepping into the room like a general onto a battlefield. "We mining yet?"


    "Oh yeah. First block might hit within the hour. Hashrate''s steady at 650 MH/s across all rigs."


    Darren''s eyes flicked to the live dashboard ¡ª a wall-mounted monitor Kara had built herself. It displayed:


    Total Network Hashrate


    Local Hashrate (650 MH/s)


    Block Height: 74,202


    Current Difficulty: 13,408


    Block Reward: 50 BTC


    Expected Time to Solve: ~38 minutes


    ''Thirty eight minutes? I thought these were the best of the best, they should be solving this in twenty.''


    The rest of the team shuffled in, sipping coffee, pulling up rolling chairs, some still groggy from Shift Two''s overnight logs.


    Darren eyed Rico at the corner, leaning back in his seat, still adjusting to the rhythm of the job, his beanie tilted just enough to seem both casual and calculating.


    He glanced at Darren and gave a quick two-fingered salute. Kara didn''t need to look to smack him in the back of the head.


    "Pay attention. You mess up hash optimization again and I''m wiring you to the PSU."


    Darren ignored his old friend and stepped forward, his voice cutting through the heat.


    "Alright, listen up."


    Slowly, the chatter died. Even the fans felt quieter.


    "We''re three weeks into Steele Investments. But this¡ª" he gestured to the rigs, to the screens, to the haze of purposeful chaos, "¡ªthis is not the type of results I was expecting from you all."


    He began to pace slowly. "Is there a problem? Is this too difficult for you? Are the Block Heights too hard to solve. Is the time too short to meet up?"


    He turned to the board, clicking the remote. A diagram appeared showing:


    Hash Function Flow


    Transaction Queue


    Nonce Iteration Rate


    Block Creation Time


    "What did I tell you before?"


    He looked around. "Hmm?"


    He outstretched his hand and pointed at the computers. "Every minute these GPUs run, you are solving cryptographic puzzles. Each time we solve one, we secure the network and we''re rewarded with 50 BTC. How much is the current price per Bitcoin?"


    "$0.70 now, Mr. Steele."


    Darren nodded. " Laughable, I know."


    Some chuckles scattered the room.


    "But mark my words," Darren said, stepping forward, eyes like obsidian. "That joke will one day buy mansions. Cities. Empires."


    He paused and opened his system interface mentally.


    -----------


    Ding!


    ©³A?B?A Calculations: Calculated Block Profit Trajectory©¿


    ©³At 2 blocks/day = 100 BTC/day


    BTC Price Now: $0.50 = $50/day


    BTC Price in 2021 (projected): $70,000


    ¡ú Future Value: $7,000,000/day©¿


    ----------


    "If you knew how much the future says we are making here each day, then you would mine twice that."


    He closed the system just as Kara pulled up another display on the screen behind him.


    "Rig 3''s nearing threshold," she called out. "Nonce iteration is spiking."


    Rico leaned forward. "Is this the one we optimized yesterday?"


    "Yup," Kara replied. "GPU temperature at 84¡ãC. Still safe."


    Darren walked to the whiteboard and scrawled in thick marker:


    Week 1 Output: 0 BTC


    Week 2 Output: 3 Block = 150 BTC


    Week 3 Output: 3 Block = 150 BTC


    Target for Week 4: 14 Blocks = 700 BTC


    Operation Goal (Q1): 10,000 BTC Banked


    He turned. "This isn''t about day-trading or selling early. We''re accumulating. You know what, for now, forget price. We''re mining a scarce digital asset that will become the gold of this century. Every satoshi we pull is one more we deny the world. One more locked under the company''s control."


    Suddenly¡ª


    BEEP!


    The dashboard flashed red for a second, then green. Kara jumped from her desk.


    "Block solved!" she yelled. "Block 74,203 mined. Rig 4 sealed it!"


    A roar went up from the team.


    "50 BTC!" Rico whooped. "That''s, what, $25?"


    "Congratulations," Darren said dryly, sinking his hands in his pockets. "You mined a bag of peanuts. But don''t worry, they''ll age like wine."


    Everyone laughed, and even Darren was forced to smile, watching the flicker of pride in their eyes.


    "Now come on! Let''s get to mining! 14 Blocks is the goal this week and I do not want anything less!"


    ----------


    No one would be able to solve any other Block Height until later that day, making it 2 overall in one day.


    That wasn''t bad, considering 14 was the goal, if they kept this pace, there was a good chance they could hit it.


    Now, Darren was sitting in his office overlooking the outside of the Complex, watching other high skyscrapers. His chair swiveled while Rachel sat on the guest chair across his table.


    "Sales update, sir," she began without preamble. "Trendteller''s base version has crossed 30 licenses sold, mostly to small cafes, bookstores, and two auto repair chains."


    "What about Trendteller+? Anyone interested in the beta."


    "Yes, there are some. Three actually. We have three chains onboard now. Two of them are packaging facilities in Nevarro. Big data, heavy logistics. They''re asking for bulk scaling and customization."


    "Custom build price?"


    "Starting at $20,000. Each."


    Darren scoffed. "Seems like a lot for a beta software. Have they fully purchased licensing?"


    "Yes."


    "Okay. Then go ahead." He faced her with a straight expression. "Is there anything else?"


    "Charles Nelson just sent word. He''s still curious to know if you''ve decided on a company bank yet. And also about that venture capital."


    Darren thought for a while. "He seems insistent. Go ahead, Rachel, book a dinner. Not the Pendulum, something as fancy though."


    -----------


    Back in the mining room...


    Kara updated the wall.


    Day 1 of Week 1 Output: 2 Block = 100 BTC


    Value: $25


    She paused for a moment, then added:


    Block Mined By: Rig 4 ¨C "The Beast"


    Staring at what she''d just written, she placed her hands on her hips and sighed. "How does he expect us to make an output of 14 Blocks this week when we only made 3 last week."


    She exhaled. "You confuse me, Mr. D."

 Chapter 140 140: The Beast

    The buzz of celebration still lingered in the Operations Room as the team gathered around Rig 4, now proudly nicknamed "The Beast."


    Kara leaned over it with a flashlight, inspecting the GPU rack while sipping from a silver flask labeled COFFEE OR DEATH. Rico stood beside her, chin up, wearing a smirk like a medal.


    "So, can I officially say I tuned the Beast?" he asked.


    Kara scoffed. "You can officially say you didn''t fry it."


    Rico smiled. "One GPU, two blocks in one day. No kidding. I mean, what do you think?" He looked at Kara. "Darren''s gonna be happy with me, right? Like he would cut me slack a bit? Be friends again?"


    Kara raised a brow at him like she pitied him. "I can''t make any promises, bean head. But give the boss some time. I think if you keep proving yourself to him, he''ll notice. For now..."


    She tapped him on the shoulder. "...try to be comfortable in limbo."


    Then, she walked away.


    Rico slagged his shoulders.


    "Boss is here!" someone whispered urgently. Everyone quickly scrambled to their separate units, standing besides computers and GPU''s.


    Darren stepped into the room with a cup of coffee. The first thing he noticed was the odd silence, the second thing was the air. It was thicker than yesterday, heavier with heat and possibility.


    He looked at the fans and the AC, but said nothing. Then he looked at everyone, and then at the LED pulses from each rig.


    "Morning everyone," he said simply, his voice calm but commanding. "I heard that a single GPU solved 2 Blocks yesterday. That''s awesome. And good work to whoever was in pilot. But now let''s talk about the other nine."


    He scanned their faces. "Get to work."


    ------------


    An hour later, it was time for a Performance Report Review


    Kara pulled up the analytics on the wall screen.


    "Here''s what we''ve got," she said, flipping through live metrics.


    Current Hashrate:


    Rig 4: 78.9 MH/s (Post-optimization)


    Rigs 1¨C3: ~68.2 MH/s


    Rigs 5¨C10: Baseline 65.7 MH/s


    "GPU performance is under target," she muttered. "Our Radeon HDs can be pushed further. But we''re walking a tightrope ¡ª temperature thresholds and power draw."


    Darren activated A?B?A and scanned for solutions to this issue. He arrived at an Optimization Protocol Tool. There, the system gave him an option to run a real-time diagnostic across all active rigs.


    He selected this option.


    ----------


    Ding!


    ©³System Notice: Minor Overclocking Potential Detected


    ¡ª Safe Voltage Increase: +0.02v


    ¡ª Core Clock: Up to 900 MHz


    ¡ª Memory Clock: Stable at 1300 MHz


    ¡ª Estimated Hashrate Boost: +8.4%©¿


    -------------


    Noting the information, Darren nodded. "Kara, I want all rigs except Rig 4 recalibrated. Follow this: 900 core, 1300 mem, keep the fan curve aggressive. Prioritize Rig 2 and 3 first. Rico, assist her."


    He turned to Rico directly. "And no improvisations. Follow everything I''ve given perfectly. I want this fast and clean."


    Rico nodded enthusiastically, taking Kara''s advice and doing his best to impress Darren. "Alright, boss."


    They both began work.


    Many hours later, by 2:20 PM, they had fully implemented what Darren gave.


    But as Kara and Rico worked on the firmware update and manual overclocking, the room heated by another 2¡ãC.


    It was getting very hot, very fast.


    A secondary fan system was activated. On-screen, the live hashrates began to tick upward, each rig rising by a few MH/s.


    Rig 2: 69.9 ¡ú 74.8 MH/s


    Rig 3: 68.0 ¡ú 73.2 MH/s


    They weren''t seismic jumps, but in Bitcoin mining, even a 5% edge scaled into millions over time.


    Darren checked the total power draw on the system''s interface:


    ©³Power Consumption: 2,440W


    Cost per Day (Flat Rate): $110


    Projected BTC/Day: 2.4 Blocks = 120 BTC


    Value Today: $60 | Future Value: $7.6 Million©¿


    He folded his arms, thinking. ''It will be a big mistake if I overplay my hands and rush for quick profit. I know that I''m going to make a lot of gain, so it''s best to focus on efficiency now, empire later."


    GPU''s let humming. Mining was at full stretch!


    -----------------


    Meanwhile, upstairs in the corporate areas of the Steele Complex.


    Rachel and Sandy sat across from each other in the executive conference room, papers and laptops strewn between them. Graphs of Trendteller and Trendteller+ sales flickered on the screen.


    Sandy tapped a cell on her spreadsheet. "Can you believe it? We''ve crossed $175,000 in revenue in just under two weeks."


    Rachel smiled once. "And what about our biggest accounts?"


    "Dawn Group signed a full Trendteller+ contract for $70,000. Wanting real-time inventory predictions across 14 warehouses. I had to custom-tailor a license plan. Darren gave the nod."


    Rachel leaned back. "So much for the critics saying we were too early."


    "Oh, we''re early," Sandy said. "That''s why we''re winning."


    They worked silently for a while, then Rachel decided to ask a question. It was a difficult one to ask, but she just couldn''t help it.


    "Did it seem to you like Darren has been distant lately?"


    Sandy lifted her head, surprised by the question, but pretended not to have heard. "Mhm?"


    Her and Rachel locked eyes.


    "Oh," Rachel chickened out. "I just thought you''ve noticed how he''s... I don''t know. Never mind."


    She forced her head down and pretended to be busy with the paperwork. ''Rach. What were you thinking? Ugh! Just be quiet like you usually are!''


    Sandy just watched her silently, also going through paperwork.


    ---------


    Back in the Operations Room, it was 5:41 PM now, working hours were coming to an end.


    The rigs hummed like hungry beasts. Kara walked over to Darren with a handheld monitor showing thermal and hash outputs.


    "All ten rigs optimized. Holding stable. One of them reached 80 MH/s. Your calculations actually worked."


    "That''s great to hear," Darren replied.


    Just then, Rico approached, holding a printed spreadsheet.


    "You should see this," he said, sliding the paper over. "I ran a hash density test across rigs based on Kara''s air circulation model. Rig 7''s GPU #3 is thermal throttling. We''re getting less output on that corner of the room. Might be a venting flaw."


    Darren raised a brow. "You designed this?"


    Rico shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I read a little. It was either this or rewatching The Matrix for the twentieth time."


    Darren looked at it, and a glimmer of recognition appeared on his face, faintly. "Nice work. Reassign those rigs. Move Rig 7 to the cooler aisle and swap its placement with Rig 9. Kara, log it in the Hash Efficiency Tracker."


    Then he stood up and walked away.


    Rico had a big smile on his face. "It''s working! He was impressed."


    Kara just shook her head and returned to work.


    It was 7:00 PM now. The Operations Room was scanty, and only the Night Shift was present.


    But Darren was as well. He''d decided to join the shift and monitor the Blocks for today.


    Maybe it was his presence that had motivated them because they ended up mining one extra block compared to yesterday.


    The wall board updated again:


    Total BTC Earned Today: 3 Blocks = 150 BTC


    Current Value: $75


    Efficiency Boost Since Morning: +17%


    Cooling Reassignment Impact: +4.2%


    The room was quiet, tired but proud.


    Darren ¡ª sitting back on a chair with his legs crossed on the desk ¡ª yawned and got on his feet. He took a sip of coffee before walking to the center and clapping once.


    Everyone looked up.


    "I know it doesn''t look like much now. Some blinking lights, a few numbers. But someday, this room will be worth more than every high-rise on this street."


    He looked at Kara, and then everyone. "Today was a win. You all did well and deserve to be part of this. Now, let''s get back tomorrow and do even better."


    They clapped their hands and nodded their heads. Then, Rico arrived with the ordered pizzas and everyone shared them like one big, happy, Bitcoin mining family.

 Chapter 141 141: Cooling Crisis

    Even though he returned home late, Darren came to work early the next day. He had barely even seen his mother for the past few days even though they lived in the same house and he''d almost forgotten how to even socialize.


    All of his focus was on the Mining Operation.


    As it turned out, this operation was a lot more difficult than buying computers and GPU''S and hiring tech savvys.


    Real work was going on here.


    Like literal mining, it was hot. And for the workers to go on, they required guidance and the mural boost of their boss.


    And Darren was the boss. The Head of Operations.


    So, in order to become the Bitcoin Billionaire of ages, this was the hard work he had to put in.


    And¡ª


    Splash! Darren washed his face with water, pushing the sleep he never had last night away.


    ¡ªthe sacrifices he had to make.


    As he made his way up the elevators, his employees greeted him while Rachel kept him up to speed with what was happening. But even she noticed his mind was not there, and he had barely listened to anything he said.


    After retrieving the coffee she had gotten for him, he said a hurried thank you and began making his way into quieter corridors of the glass dome.


    After passing key-card doors after key-card doors, he arrived at the Operations Room.


    The sound was different today.


    Not the humming thrum of healthy hardware¡ªbut a growl. A low, straining rumble that layered the usual fan buzz with something off.


    Darren heard it the moment he stepped into the room. He paused at the doorway, brow furrowing as warm air kissed his cheek. It was hotter. Noticeably.


    Kara was already inside, crouched near Rig 6 with a thermal scanner. A technician stood nervously behind her, notebook in hand. Rico leaned on a table nearby, watching steam rise from his coffee and from the GPU racks alike.


    This made Darren frown.


    "Is there a problem?" he asked, stepping in.


    Kara looked up, tight-lipped. "We''re redlining."


    First his brows raised, then they lowered, then he creased them, going through multiple stages of confusion. "Redlining? I¡ª why¡ª What happened?"


    Kara pointed to the wall display.


    Ambient Room Temp: 38.2¡ãC (¡ü 7¡ãC)


    Average GPU Temp: 91¡ãC


    Fan Load: 98%


    Hashrate Fluctuation: -6.1% overnight


    "If this continues, Rig 6 and 7 will throttle. Then we''ll lose block speed," Kara said. "It''s not catastrophic¡ª not yet ¡ªbut it''s creeping up every hour."


    Rico sighed. "Even with all fans running, the exhaust vents can''t clear the heat fast enough. These GPUs aren''t just crunching numbers, boss. They''re cooking dinner."


    Darren stared at the dashboard, his mind whirring.


    "We''ve hit the edge of air cooling... sooner than I expected."


    "So what do we do?" Kara asked. "I mean even the mechanic is drawing a blank, and he''s a mechanic. They know stuff."


    Darren wanted to grunt. He looked at all three of them and just turned around. "I need to think," he said.


    Dumping his briefcase on his table, he sat down and began rubbing his temples. He wasn''t a mechanic, so there was nothing he could do about it. To get one down here would cut down time and reduce their output.


    Quickly, he went to the system for help, activating the Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer.


    Ding!


    ©³A?B?A Notice: Cooling Threshold Exceeded©¿


    ©³Suggested Solution: Implement Phase 1 Liquid Submersion Cooling (Experimental in 2010)©¿


    ©³Projected Impact: +22% Performance Stability


    ¡ª Reduced component stress


    ¡ª Elimination of thermal throttling


    ¡ª Increased lifespan of GPUs


    ©³Risks:


    ¡ª Potential component damage without proper insulation


    ¡ª No commercial precedent (Extreme First Mover Strategy)©¿


    Darren crossed his arms. ''Mineral oil cooling.'' He exhaled. ''I don''t know about this, System. But I''m going to trust you. A mechanic is here to contain the risk so I think we can pull it off.''


    He got on his feet. "Okay, I''ve got a shortcut. Mineral oil cooling."


    Kara looked up sharply. "Whoa. Are you serious, boss? That''s still fringe even for the forum nerds. We''d be the first commercial setup doing it."


    "Exactly," Darren replied. "No competition means no reference. That''s how we own the future, isn''t it?"


    The mechanic stared at Darren. "You just came up with that by sitting for a couple minutes?" He looked at Rico and Kara. "Who the hell is this guy?"


    ------------


    By midmorning, Darren had cleared out two racks. He tasked Kara and Rico with setting up the prototype tank.


    The room swelled with tension and excitement as the first transparent acrylic tub was wheeled in, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Kara walked around it like an engineer inspecting a prototype engine.


    "Food-grade mineral oil only," she ordered. "No conductivity. Just make sure there are no bubbles."


    They suspended the test rig ¡ª Rig 8 ¡ª on a mounting frame, disconnected the case fans, and dipped the motherboard and GPUs into the fluid. The oil gleamed like liquid glass.


    The moment they booted it, the room collectively held its breath.


    Whirr...


    Buzz...


    Silent.


    Rico blinked. "...It''s running. It''s actually running. What the fuck, is Darren like a genius or something?"


    Kara smiled. "I''ve been asking myself the same thing."


    ------------


    By 12:00 PM, it was time for the Results Check.


    The dashboard pinged with results from the submerged rig:


    Rig 8 (Liquid-Cooled):


    Temp: 42.1¡ãC


    Hashrate: 85.2 MH/s


    Power Efficiency: +11%


    Noise Output: -70%


    Stability: 99.9% uptime


    It has worked. Perfectly. No risks.


    Darren stood behind the team, nodding slowly. "Rico, Kara ¡ª you''ve just built the new standard for every miner in the world. Document the entire process. This tech is ours now."


    She did just that, and soon Steele TechTM was already in sight, with the first product made.


    But that was for another day.


    Work continued in the Operations Room, Darren reviewed the electrical grid readouts. The rigs were sucking more power than anticipated.


    "We''re skating close to capacity. One surge and it''s a blackout."


    To deal with this, he called a private number. Ten minutes later, he was on a rooftop meeting with an LA power official.


    "Install a backup transformer. Discreetly. No headlines," Darren instructed. "You''ll get a bonus per month. Just keep the juice flowing."


    The official lit a cigarette and nodded. "You''ve got a deal, Mr. Steele."


    When the day came to an end, Kara was standing in front of the whiteboard again. She updated it.


    Day 3 of Week 3 BTC Output: 4 Blocks = 200 BTC


    Current Price: $0.50


    Value: $100


    Hashrate Stability: +19%


    Noise Reduction: 62%


    Cooling Efficiency: 27% ¡ü


    She admired it all. "And once again, you silence all my doubts."


    A smile of respect and love stretched on her face. "Just how do you do it, Mr. D?"

 Chapter 142 142: Vault

    The fourth block of the day had just been mined when Kara leaned back in her chair, flexing her wrist and yawning. The whiteboard now read:


    Day 4 of Week 4 BTC Output: 4 Blocks = 250 BTC


    Total So Far: 1,000 BTC


    Current Value: $500


    The room buzzed with low voices and the purring of submerged rigs, but Darren wasn''t there to hear it.


    He was in his office, standing by the tall window, his gaze fixed on the skyline while his system interface hovered beside him in an elegant purple overlay.


    Below, Los Alverrez woke to another humid morning. Inside, he had a much different concern.


    Ding!


    ©³BTC Holdings:


    Personal: 3,750,000 BTC


    Company: 1,000 BTC Reached


    Cold Storage Recommended: Risk of Centralized Wallet Theft Increasing©¿


    "Centralized Wallet Theft?" Darren murmured. "Well, I didn''t expect that to be an issue anytime soon."


    The system chimed again.


    ©³Would you like to deploy Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer''s Vault Structuring Tool?©¿


    "I mean, if it would help."


    He accepted instantly.


    ©³...©¿


    ©³...©¿


    ©³...©¿


    ©³Analyzing is complete©¿


    When the system was done, the Vault Strategy Session began.


    Darren''s desk cleared into holographic projections: charts, wallet layers, encryption paths. Numbers and percentages floated midair like a block chain dance.


    The Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer kicked into high gear, speaking in compressed data bursts Darren understood as instinctively as breath.


    ©³System has successfully created strategies and measures©¿


    ©³Present measures now?©¿


    Darren selected ©³Yes©¿


    Ding!


    ©³To prevent theft or traceable consolidation, your BTC will be segmented across five categories:


    ¡ª Long-Term Deep Cold (60%)


    ¡ª Reserve Fund (20%)


    ¡ª Reinvestment Pool (10%)


    ¡ª Testing Wallets (5%)


    ¡ª Phantom Wallets (5%)


    Each will utilize unique multi-signature protocols, time-locked scripts, and stealth addresses.©¿


    Darren let out a sigh. ''Gosh, I forgot about all of this. Having a personal Bitcoin account was much easier. Now it''s on a large scale, I guess this is what I have to deal with.''


    Then he thought for a while. ''I mean... It looks secure, but what''s the security score on this, System? At least the projected one if you aren''t fully certain.''


    ©³Projected Security Score: 99.98%


    Breach Probability: Less than 1 in 19 million.©¿


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "That works. Break it further by transaction timestamp. I want zero detectable patterns."


    ©³Affirmative©¿


    Ding!


    ©³You have just earned a Character Bonus©¿


    "Oh," Darren mumbled. "Thanks." He left his office and made his way down to the vault room.


    Accepting some greetings from his employees, he glanced at his Rolex, 10:20 AM. Hopefully, mining was in full swing by now.


    What he wanted to do now was the Cold Vault Construction.


    Moments later, Darren found himself in the newly built vault room. It was a narrow steel-core chamber deep beneath the Steele Complex, it had metal walls and two windows for inspection.


    Kara and Deborah ¡ª one of the IT workers ¡ª wheeled in two Faraday-shielded laptops, each running air-gapped Linux distributions.


    "Good morning, sir," Deborah greeted shyly, moving her silver hair out of the way.


    "Morning," Darren replied indifferently, not even bothering to look at her as he studied the laptops like they were a brand new car.


    "Are you really going analog on this?" Kara asked, half impressed, half amused.


    "It''s for offline signing only," Darren said firmly. "No connection, no trace. The wallets live on USBs in this safe, with biometric locks, dual-auth. One USB per wallet. You touch this room without me, you don''t walk out."


    Kara glanced at Deborah and then nodded her head. "That is noted."


    "We have to be careful, Kara. It might have gone over our heads that we just hired some very skilled computer wizards to help us mine. That means if we''re not careful, they could also steal from us. Bitcoin rises in an unreadable fashion."


    He finished the inspection and stood straight, looking at her with a stern expression. "If there''s a rise and we are not able to secure it in time, then someone in the team can steal from us. These are the only systems that have access to withdrawals and that''s why they''ll stay here."


    Kara thinned her lips and nodded once. "I got it, boss."


    For Deborah, she stared at the laptops for a while, before Kara motioned for the two of them to leave.


    As they did, Darren finally glanced at their direction. ''System is right. It only protects my personal BTC portfolio, but not the company''s. This vault is very important to protect us from anyone who would dare be a Judas.''


    He walked out of the vault. Then locked the door. After locking, he turned the spooked wheel until it hocked tight, and then he put his password, securing the vault shut.


    He turned and walked away, but summoned the system once more to study the BTC Allocation Log


    As coins were shifted, Darren tracked everything through the Analyzer:


    ©³Long-Term Cold Wallets:


    ¡ú 600 BTC spread across six devices, each in different secure boxes, geo-tagged and sealed.


    Reserve Wallet:


    ¡ú 200 BTC stored in a short-access offline system, tied to reinvestment notifications.


    Reinvestment Pool:


    ¡ú 100 BTC held with OTC brokers, ready for early plays.


    Testing Wallets & Phantom Shells:


    ¡ú 100 BTC across decoy addresses¡ªsmoke and mirrors.©¿


    He took in a deep breath, satisfied with what he saw.


    Then a new notification came.


    Ding!


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: The Vault Builder


    "Establish a flawless, distributed cold storage network with over 1,000 BTC secured."©¿


    ©³Reward: Flash Investment Ping ¨C Gain instant alerts for undervalued asset spikes across real estate, startups, and private shares. Accuracy increases with system growth.©¿


    "A mid tier reward," he murmured. "Hopefully the undervalued assets it finds me are very profitable."


    He adjusted his tux, and as he continued down the corridor, he walked past the door of the market room where Rachel and Sandy were once again going through the Trendteller Sales Reports.


    Rachel skimmed through a packet from Sandy and exhaled. "Darren''s not going to believe this."


    Sandy, adjusting her glasses, handed over the updated sales summary.


    Trendteller ¨C Week 1:


    Total Licenses Sold: 1,842


    Monthly Recurring Revenue: $312,000


    Top Buyer: Verdant Markets (42-store grocery chain)


    Trendteller+: Custom-built analytics module for nationwide rollout ¡ª $110,000 deal signed.


    "He''ll believe it," Sandy said. "He''s the reason it''s happening."


    "Yeah," Rachel muttered, cheeks turning pink. "You wouldn''t mind if I was the one who told him. Would you?"


    Sandy looked at her. "Hmm?"


    "I mean, I know you run Finance, but I would... like to report the sales back to him. If... that''s okay with you."


    Rachel seemed completely nervous and that left Sandy in disbelief because this was not the same Rachel Teschmacher she knew.


    Did she like Darren that bad?


    She understood Rachel was only asking that so that she could get to see Darren smile or praise her, or give her some more attention.


    She shook her head. Poor Rachel. Didn''t she know it was a bad idea to fall in love with your boss.


    Sandy pouted. Like she was the one to talk. How hypocritical. It wasn''t like she herself didn''t have feelings for Darren. In fact, she understood exactly how Rachel was feeling right now.


    Kinda.


    Sandy smiled. "Okay. You can tell him."


    Rachel''s uncovered eye widened with relief. "Really? Thank you, Sandy."


    "It''s fine."


    ------------


    Back in the office, Darren sat with a single-page report in hand. Amelia stood nearby with a laptop. On screen: Projected Liquidity Model for BTC Conversions


    He read aloud: "Converting small portions via OTC desks to avoid market impact. 50 BTC per transaction, max 4 per week. Funds routed through three dummy LLCs, cleaned through mid-level real estate investments and private equity flips."


    Amelia raised a brow. "What do you think?"


    Darren looked at her. "Sounds criminally effective. Let''s do it!"


    She beamed at him.


    Kara updated the board one last time:


    Day 4 of Week 4 BTC Output: 5 Blocks = 300 BTC


    Total Mined to Date: 1,250 BTC


    Hashrate Stability: 96%


    Cooling System: Optimal


    Security: Hardened Cold Vault Layer Active


    Trendteller Weekly Sales: $312K MRR


    Team Morale: Increasing


    She added one more line underneath in red marker:


    Next Goal: 5,000 BTC Banked. No Mistakes.


    But one major one was coming...

 Chapter 143 143: Digits and Directions

    The glass doors hissed shut behind Darren Steele as he entered the Steele Complex at 6:07 AM sharp.


    His black shoes tapped against the polished floor with crisp finality ¡ª not a sound out of place. The security staff nodded silently. They knew the mood. They knew the man.


    This was the start of the final week of Q1.


    Behind him, the sun had barely scraped the skyline. Ahead of him, buried behind five layers of key-card corridors and reinforced vaults, sat the most important room in the entire city.


    The Operations Room.


    His mind was already there.


    The first week had been an immensely success. Well, the last week technically, but the first week with him fully being in charge.


    With a 2 Block success on Day 1, a 3 Block success on Day 2, a 4 Block success on Day 3, and a 5 Block success on Day 4, they''d triumphantly accomplished Darren''s goal of 14 Blocks solved this week.


    This was a great success for sure if one only focused on this week. But with only 3, 2 and 2 being the output of the former weeks respectively, the results for the entire month were below Darren''s standards.


    Not a bad starting month, but not the best either.


    And Darren wanted the best.


    "Good morning, sir." Rachel''s beautiful voice greeted him as he arrived by the elevator.


    She knew to always wait by it, and she was already holding out a steaming cup of coffee. Today, she wore a navy blazer and an almost too tight pencil skirt.


    Her dark brown hair swayed over her left shoulder, and as usual, the strands of hair covered her left eye. The second he reached her, she matched his pace without missing a beat.


    "Rachel. What do you have for me this morning?"


    "Trendteller reports are in," she began, eyes forward. "You''re going to want to hear this."


    Darren took the cup and gulped down a large amount. "How many licenses sold?"


    "Base version hit 1042. That''s $112,000 in monthly revenue. Trendteller+ landed a $110,000 enterprise analytics deal with Verdant Markets. They want scaling options by next quarter."


    "Verdant Markets? I didn''t think they''d be interested ¡ª" He shrugged. "Well, I did think they''ll be interested but not this fast."


    He nodded slowly, taking a sip. "1042 sells for the base version, that''s really good. Lila will be happy to hear that. What''s our cut in that? Like 25%."


    "20% for the first year," Rachel reminded him.


    "If we carry on like this for a full year. We''ll be looking at around $1.5 million dollars for the first year." He pursed his lips and nodded. "Not bad. Not bad at all."


    He took another sip.


    Rachel side-eyed him. "Is that it?" She laughed nervously, once, her disappointment clear.


    Darren glanced at her. "Is that what?"


    Rachel looked at the file in her hand. "I don''t know, I just... this was not what I imagi¡ª We sold over a thousand licenses in one week. I thought you''d be happier."


    His brows creased as he looked at her.


    "I wanted you to feel it," she said. "That''s a milestone, sir. Not many people make six figures in their first week in the market."


    "Hey hey hey," Darren spoke softly, gently placing his palm on her hand. He looked down at her and whispered, "What is it? Are you okay?"


    Rachel looked down at where his hand had touched her. "I am," she replied gently. "It''s just... you''ve been so busy and... I know you have things to do now."


    Darren bore into her eyes. "Hey, stop. Don''t be like that. It''s not that I don''t care about this stuff. I do. But right now... all I can see is the block count. All I am focused on right now is mining just as I was focused on the software last week. Just as I''ll be focused on you again as well."


    Rachel stayed quiet a beat. Then her voice softened. "I''m not asking you to be focused on me... that''s selfish. I just¡ª I just don''t want you to be cold. I lik¡ª mhm!"


    Darren suddenly pressed his lips into hers, kissing her deep and affectionately, while his palm caressed her chin.


    Rachel closed her eyes.


    When they were done, he pulled away gently and their lips made a quiet smack.


    "Did that feel cold?" he asked her.


    She shook her head, clearly rocked from the passionate kiss. "No," she mumbled. "It was warm. Really warm."


    Darren smiled.


    Then he pulled away and instantly returned to work mode, hand sunk in pocket. "Was there anything else?"


    Still getting herself together, and even surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, Rachel remembered.


    "Oh, yes." She pulled an envelope from her file. "This came in late yesterday. From Brookfield."


    He opened it, scanned the cursive heading.


    Brookfield University Graduating Class 2007/2008 Reunion. Friday, November 3rd.


    His brows lifted. "I completely forgot about this. It seems they postponed it again. Tyler Mooney must be in town now if it''s this close."


    "Your alma mater?"


    "Yeah," Darren replied.


    Rachel softened her expression. "You don''t want to go, do you?"


    He downturned his lips. "I''ve thought about it. I don''t have plans for Friday night so we''ll see."


    ---------------


    Two minutes later, the keycard door to the Operations Room slid open.


    Warm air greeted him ¡ª but not oppressive. A low hum filled the space, the steady thrum of rig cooling fans, oil pumps, and silicon computation. The place was running. Alive.


    Kara was in her element, whiteboard marker in one hand, tablet in the other. She looked up immediately. "Morning, boss."


    "Status."


    "We mined a block at 2:41 AM. Then another at 4:18. That brings us to 1,350 BTC total." She turned and underlined the new numbers.


    Day 5 ¡ª Week 4 BTC Output: 2 Blocks = 100 BTC


    Total BTC: 1,350 BTC


    Current Price: $702


    "Cooling stable?"


    "Mineral oil is holding. Rig temps are averaging 44.8¡ãC. We''ve had no throttling since the Rig 8 retrofit."


    Rico waved from his corner. "I even squeezed an extra 6 MH/s out of Rig 2 with some script tweaks. Rotated hash schedules like you said."


    Darren approached the wall-mounted dashboard and activated the system interface.


    Ding!


    ©³Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer©¿


    ©³Nonce Iteration Sync: Optimized


    Rig-to-Block Latency: 5.3s


    Network Difficulty: 14,880


    Projected Solve Window: 26¨C33 minutes©¿


    "Good," Darren muttered.


    He turned to the room.


    "Today is the last day of this week. Technically it should be the last day of the month and Q1, but lucky for us, we have Monday and Tuesday left in this month. That''s two working days. Working days that we''re going to use to fix the messy outputs of the earlier weeks. You all know the target."


    Kara tapped the whiteboard with the back of her marker.


    Target by Tuesday: 5,000 BTC.


    Remaining: 3,650 BTC.


    Required Output: 73 Blocks Minimum.


    Everyone began to murmur. ''That''s a lot.'' ''Is that even possible?'' ''73 in three days?'' ''Ah hell. Thank God I''m not working the night shift."


    "Any issues with oil viscosity?" Darren asked, ignoring their murmurs. "Circulation speed?"


    "We tested last night," Kara said. "Flow rate''s holding. But we''ll need a refill shipment by Wednesday."


    "I ordered one already," Darren remarked. "It''s scheduled."


    He looked back at the team. "I''ll go easy on you guys. Get me ten blocks today. Nothing less."


    They all glanced at each other. "Ten blocks? He calls that easy?"


    "Enough with the talking! Start solving! Mine those blocks!"


    ------------


    By noon, another two blocks had been mined.


    1,450 BTC.


    Kara updated the board. Rico gave her a low-five, both of them looking satisfied, and at the same time, desperate to mine more blocks.


    They needed eight more.


    Back in his office, Darren stood by the window, hands in his pockets. Below, the city of Los Alverez stretched on ¡ª unaware of what he was building above their heads.


    Rachel knocked once before entering.


    "Meeting with Charles Nelson is tomorrow. Dinner''s booked at Denley''s Prime. Just you and him."


    Darren frowned distastefully. "Tomorrow?"


    "Yes," she replied. Then she noticed a sigh leave him. "What is it?"


    "You''re going to have to reschedule."


    She nodded. "That''s fine, it''s no problem. I''m happy to do it, sir. What date would be better?"


    "Thursday. This mining week will be over by then. Charles and I have much to talk about and I think that a meeting like that... " He thought for a while, knowing how big the Nelsons were. "I''d have to be at the top of my game to deal with it."


    Rachel understood. "I''ll call Denley''s."

 Chapter 144 144: Ten Blocks in One Day

    Back in the operations room, work was still going on.


    The rig lights blinked with stubborn energy, and the hum of fans and submersion pumps mingled with fingers tapping keys and coffee being reheated for the fourth time.


    Everyone knew what was at stake.


    1,450 BTC. That was the current count.


    They needed 5,000 before the day was over.


    Many of them knew it wouldn''t happen. It couldn''t. Not in one day. But Darren hadn''t said to stop. So they didn''t.


    By 4pm, most of the employees in the main halls of the company had left, and a new shift took over the work in the Operations room.


    Darren stepped into the room just as Kara shouted, "Rig 5 just dipped in hashrate again. I think something''s off with its voltage!"


    Deborah rolled her chair to the nearest terminal. "I''m seeing instability in the power delivery to the secondary GPU."


    "Temp?" Kara asked.


    "Still mid-40s. Cool oil''s holding it, but power spikes are eating our efficiency."


    Darren stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Is this the same rig we patched Tuesday?"


    "Yeah," Deborah answered, staring dreamily at him. "Uhm... I think the patch destabilized the clock. We''re running at 94.2% efficiency right now."


    That was too low. Not when they were trying to hit ten blocks in a single day. Every percentage mattered.


    He turned back to the board:


    Day 5 ¨C Week 4 BTC Output: 4 Blocks = 200 BTC


    Total BTC: 1,550 BTC


    They had six more to go before midnight.


    Darren summoned the Investor System and activated the Amplified Bitcoin Analyzer with a blink of mental focus.


    ---


    Ding!


    ©³Alert: Performance Stability Threat Detected©¿


    ¡ª Voltage irregularities in Rig 5


    ¡ª Recommended Action: Underclock GPU #2 by 3.7%, reassign load to Rig 2 for 90-minute cycle


    ¡ª Note: Minor loss in short-term power = higher long-term reward stability©¿


    ---


    Darren snapped his fingers. "Rico, underclock GPU 2 on Rig 5. Reassign to Rig 2 for the next hour and a half."


    "The next hour and a half?" Rico frowned. "You sure, boss?"


    Darren darkened his gaze. "That wasn''t a suggestion, Rico."


    Rico briskly nodded and started to work.


    "Report." Darren told Kara.


    "Most of the systems are steady," Kara said quickly. "GPU temps are holding, hash rotation still optimal. We got a new block a few minutes ago."


    "Good. But we''re already short on pacing," he muttered, stepping toward the monitoring screens.


    Rico stood at the corner, adjusting fan intake logs. "The reassigning seems to be working, boss. By the way, we ran diagnostics before anyone got in. No anomalies ¡ª but oil circulation lagged for 30 minutes overnight. Might''ve cost us a block."


    Darren didn''t flinch. "Fix it."


    "We did. I rerouted the loop and Kara boosted the flow pressure."


    "Really?" He lifted his brow at them. "Good job."


    He turned to the team, voice louder now.


    "We''re five blocks behind. Keep solving people."


    Silence. Then nods all around.


    ---


    Once he got out of the room, Darren let out a deep exhale. ''That place is becoming very suffocating.''


    He turned to his right and saw Rachel approaching him, files in hand. "Hey, hope I wasn''t interrupting anything."


    "Except me questioning my life decisions, not much," Darren replied. Rachel giggled.


    "So what''s up?" he asked her.


    "Oh. I Just thought you''d want to know. Sandy''s back from her investor meeting. Verdant Markets wants to scale further. They''re asking for multi-location dashboards now."


    "That''s Trendteller+ demand, right?"


    "Exactly."


    Darren nodded. "Alright. You and Sandy draft a scope. If they want ten more licenses by next month, quote them $100,000 base plus $5,000 per store."


    Rachel blinked. "That''s double what we initially¡ª"


    "They''ll pay," Darren cut in. "They''ve seen the savings. It''s business logic now."


    Rachel hesitated for a second. "...Alright. I''ll relay it."


    She turned to leave when Darren stopped her.


    "Could you call me Amelia ? There''s something I need her to do."


    Rachel nodded once. "Yes, sir."


    In minutes, Amelia arrived by the door of the Operations Room carrying a stack of printouts and a laptop.


    "Did you run?" Darren asked her, chuckling.


    She blushed. "I wouldn''t say run, sir. I only... hastened my steps."


    "That''s hilarious. Now come on, the routing updates."


    "Of course. Financial routing updates," she said. "All BTC from yesterday''s blocks have been split between cold vault protocols and the Reinvestment Pool."


    She opened the laptop, showing the chain transaction log: clean, scrambled, untraceable.


    "Any anomalies?" Darren asked.


    "No. All phantom shells and decoy addresses remain unbreached."


    "That''s good." He looked at her intensely. "Since you''re my Secretary of Investments you''re the only one who has the code for the vault and transactions. You do understand what kind of responsibility that is, right?"


    She nodded. "Yes. Yes I do, sir."


    "Good. Now I have a job for you." Darren slipped his hands into his pockets. "As my Secretary of Investments, you''re also going to have to invest in some things on your own. Without my help."


    Her eyes glimmered.


    "Today, you''re going to start with an Off-market industrial warehouse in Nevarro."


    "Nevarro?"


    "Yes."


    Darren had received the first notification from his Flash Investment Ping that morning.


    ©³Flash Investment Ping ¡ª Opportunity Detected©¿


    ©³Asset: Off-market industrial warehouse (Nevarro District)


    Current Value: $320,000


    Projected Value (2020): $200.2M


    Flagged as undervalued due to rezoning initiative hidden in city council minutes.©¿


    Darren handed her the details. "You''re going to have to do it quietly. A covert investment id you will. But I want that building before other investors start to get a clue of it."


    "I''m on it, sir," Amelia said dutifully. "I''ll start drafting the shell corp immediately."


    "Good. I''m counting on you, Amy."


    She smiled sheepishly and hurried off to work.


    ------------


    At 6 PM, another alert buzzed through the dashboard.


    Another Block solved!


    Kara whooped and updated the board again:


    Day 5 Output: 7 Blocks = 350


    Total: 1,600 BTC


    They didn''t even celebrate it, they only continued to solve and tap. There was less noise now, only the sound of the rigs humming with renewed purpose.


    Kara stared at the thermal maps. "Temps are rising faster than expected," she said. "This new mineral oil batch runs hotter."


    "It''s within tolerance," Rico said.


    "Is it?"


    "Yes. I think we can work with it."


    She glanced toward the stockroom where the next supply was already being stored. "We''ll need to double-check the new barrels before tomorrow."


    Darren overheard and made a mental note. Red flag that. He didn''t like that she was uncertain. Even small things were dangerous now.


    An hour later, there was another BEEP.


    Another Block had been solved. From Rig 2.


    "Boom!" Rico clapped once. "That''s number eight!"


    Kara flew to the board:


    Day 5 Output: 8 Blocks = 400 BTC


    Total: 1,650 BTC


    Rigs Stable


    Cooling: 93% Optimal


    "Good job. We need two more," Darren said. "Come on people."


    The room buzzed with renewed energy as the team pushed forward, fingers flying across keyboards, eyes locked on the monitors. The rigs hummed louder, as if sensing the urgency.


    At 8:37 PM, the system chimed again.


    Block Solved.


    Kara nearly knocked over her coffee as she jumped up. "Nine!" she shouted, slapping the board with the update:


    Day 5 Output: 9 Blocks = 450 BTC


    Total: 1,700 BTC


    The team exchanged glances. They were so close now.


    "Holy shit are we really gonna do it? Mining ten in one day?!"


    "Stop talking moron, just solve! I hope my rig gets the last one!"


    "I hope mine does."


    "If you guys keep talking instead of mining, then we might not even get the last one!"


    Darren crossed his arms, watching the rigs. "Concentrate everyone. It''s just one more," he said. "Don''t slow down."


    The minutes stretched. The hum of the machines filled the silence. Then, at 10:12 PM¡ª


    BEEP.


    The final alert flashed across the screens.


    Rico leapt from his chair. "TEN! WE GOT TEN!"


    Kara slammed the last update onto the board, grinning:


    Day 5 Output: 10 Blocks = 500 BTC


    Total: 1,750 BTC


    "We did it!"


    The room erupted. Cheers, claps, even a few relieved laughs. Someone even collapsed.


    Darren allowed himself a small smile before raising a hand.


    "What did I say, everyone? I knew we could do it. 10 Blocks in one day. And we can only get better from here. What''s stopping us? 15? 20? 50 Blocks in one day is achievable too."


    He rested his hands on a desk.


    "But for now, I think it''s time for a celebration."


    A smile spread below his nose. "Who wants some champagne?"

 Chapter 145: Wilsons Fall

    The LA branch of Moon Enterprises towered like a knife in the sky. It was about the tallest skyscraper in the corporate part of the city.


    It was rectangular, sleek, made of obsidian and silver, and the glass glistened with a color of silver that was not too distinct from the main building''s, almost making it appear as though there were no windows at all.


    And at the top of the skyscraper was a silver gray moon sculpted on the roof and encircled with the lettering: ''Moon Enterprises.''


    The building swallowed the morning sun in mirrored reflections and was a Goliath amongst Davids in the city.


    As interesting as the building itself looked, the action was happening inside of it. In the walls and halls, the atmosphere buzzed with stiff nerves and forced smiles.


    After a few months, the prince was back.


    Tyler Mooney had returned from Massington.


    And just like every time the heir to the Mooney dynasty entered a room, the air adjusted.


    This meant secretaries triple-checked their notes, interns walked straighter, and department heads rehearsed their updates in their heads.


    On the top floor, in an executive office that reeked of tailored privilege, Tyler lounged behind his massive glass desk with his feet up, Italian leather shoes resting on a $30,000 mahogany finish.


    He wore a tan blazer over a dark blue turtleneck, the sleeves pushed up to reveal two bracelets and a gold watch, and he scrolled lazily through his phone.


    He was on Facebook, chatting with the rest of the Graduating Class of 2007/2008 in the Group Chat.


    Tyler was planning big for the Reunion, and telling them things he was going to do, how he was going to show up, and promising to blow the roof off.


    The replies came fast: laughter, applause emojis, someone begging to borrow a suit. He grinned, typing another snide message, when a knock came at the door.


    Annoyed, Tyler glanced at the door with a brow lifted.


    The door opened before he could even say anything.


    Ryan Anders stepped inside, crisp as ever in a tailored navy suit, the glint of his silver tie pin barely catching the light.


    "Mr. Mooney," Ryan said smoothly, tone neutral as marble. "Welcome back."


    Tyler glanced up, lowering his feet off the desk with deliberate slowness. "Anders," he replied with a smirk. "Still dressing like the chairman himself, huh?"


    Ryan''s smile didn''t quite reach his eyes. "I try my best. I heard you were successful in Massington. Your father will be very pleased."


    Tyler chuckled. "Well, He better be. If you know the things I had to do get the Sephora family to agree." He straightened slightly, slipping into business mode.


    "Anyway, it worked out in the end. SephraTech agreed to the micro-infrastructure rollout. 18-month pipeline, soft launch in Q3 next year. Told ''em we''d handle system logistics end-to-end, and threw in a phased equity option. Legal''s drawing up the MOU."


    "Impressive," Ryan said with a subtle nod. "SephraTech''s notoriously difficult. They''ll expect quarterly deliverables."


    "I know. I''m not a rookie in this." Tyler grinned. "That''s why I put them in a corner and handed them a pretty leash."


    Ryan almost smiled. Almost. "Sharp work."


    Tyler leaned forward now, lacing his fingers. "But I''m not here just to brag, Anders."


    "Is that so?" Ryan said plainly, looking around. "I thought that was your favorite thing to do."


    Tyler smirked, letting the jab slide. "What''s this I hear about missing money? Mhm? You haven''t told my father yet, it seems."


    "Your father is a billionaire, Tyler. You don''t bother the king with matters his knights could handle."


    A grin stretched on Tyler''s face. "How about the prince, hmm? Does the matter not concern him too?"


    Ryan gave him an emotionless look.


    "I came in today because of that one million missing from the research fund." Tyler explained. "Tell me everything about it. Have you found the culprit? If you haven''t, then are you really doing your job?"


    Ryan''s expression didn''t change. "I thought that I was going to debrief Miss Hector, Finance Department."


    Tyler waved the idea away. "Yeah, but I''m here now. So brief me."


    A pause.


    "Alright then." Ryan''s eyes flicked to the door. "Come inside, Mr. Wilson." He raised his voice slightly.


    The door opened.


    Terry Wilson entered the office, an anxious expression plastered over his face like duct tape over a shattering window.


    "Ty!" he said, both surprised and awkward. "You''re back."


    Tyler blinked. "Terry? What''re you doing here?"


    Terry gave Ryan a side-glance. "Well, I¡ª uh, I was told there was an issue with one of our ledgers or something¡ª"


    Ryan cut in smoothly. "Mr. Wilson, would you kindly tell Mr. Mooney what you do for Moon Enterprises?"


    Terry grimaced. "Well? I mean¡ª I''m the Operations Supervisor for Wilson Logistics. Our company handles procurement and contracting for your supply chain and construction departments. We''ve been a subsidiary for three years."


    Tyler''s brows narrowed slightly. "I know all of that. Ryan, I hired him so I know that. What''s the point of this?"


    Ryan stepped forward, his tone cooling. "Let me rephrase. Would you tell him what else you''ve been doing for Moon Enterprises?"


    The silence that followed was razor sharp.


    Tyler turned to Ryan, then back to Terry. "What the hell is this?"


    Ryan didn''t blink. "Approximately five months ago, $1,000,000 was siphoned from a dormant research fund tied to Project Fletchstone. The fund wasn''t scheduled to be touched for two fiscal years. It was quietly redirected through a shadow invoice system under Wilson Logistics'' procurement authorizations. That money was rerouted to personal accounts under the name of a Miss Doreen Dickson. A fake name. However, we managed to trace the origin path. Do you want to know where it came from?"


    He turned to Terry. "It came from you."


    Tyler''s face paled. "What?"


    Terry''s voice cracked. "Wait¡ª wait a second, this is out of¡ª"


    "Denying it is a waste of time. We ran the logs," Ryan continued coldly. "We checked the approvals. The IPs. The paper trail. You didn''t even try to cover it, Terry."


    Tyler slowly stood. "Tell me this isn''t true."


    Silence for a while. Hearts pounded.


    Terry looked into Tyler''s eyes while glancing at Ryan continuously. He swallowed hard, and the look on his face finally cracked. "Ty, I was gonna drop it back. I swear. It was just¡ª it wasn''t gonna be touched¡ª I thought I''d replace it before year''s end¡ª"


    "So you did it?" Tyler''s voice rose with fury. "You stole from me? From my company? One million fucking dollars?!"


    "Ty¡ª d¡ª don''t get mad. Just listen for a bit."


    "You shameless bastard. I let you leech on me!" Tyler roared. "For years, I let you eat off my plate, and this is what you do? I handed you that subsidiary, gave you access, and you stole from me like I''m some fucking mark?"


    Terry''s face was pale now. "Ty, come on, I didn''t mean... I was desperate... I¡ª"


    "Don''t Ty me!" Tyler snapped. "Your contract''s canceled. We''re pulling all funds, freezing every account, and you''re delivering every cent of that million back by tomorrow¡ª or you''re facing court!"


    "No wait, please Tyler. I can get the money, but give me a week. It''s more possible if it''s a wee¡ª"


    "Get the fuck out of my office!" Tyler shouted, pointing furiously at the door.


    Terry stumbled backward, his eyes wide, face hollow. "Ty please, man. We''re friends."


    Tyler laughed madly, cold now. "Friends? You insignificant fool. I did my best to accommodate you, but now you''re just a liability. You''ve always been an utterly worthless puck that can only achieve success by doing two things... begging or stealing."


    Terry''s eyes widened in shock, fear and disbelief.


    "You want sympathy? Go find someone else to cry to."


    When Tyler finished, Terry lingered a beat longer, before he turned and walked out, his entire world crashing behind him.


    A heavy silence followed. Tyler stood still, fists trembling, breath shallow.


    After some quiet moments, Ryan stepped up in front of him, completely calm, hands in his pockets, voice soft but amused. "Well, now that you''ve fired one of our contractors... we''ll need to start looking for a new one."

 Chapter 146: Losing Rig 4

    After a weekend of refreshing and celebrating the success of Friday night, the IT team prepared for the new week.


    Monday and Tuesday were the last two days of October, so that was their advantage. Darren wanted them to use the opportunity of these extra two days and see if it''s possible they could cover up the poor outputs of the earlier weeks.


    The Radeon 5870s blinked red and green, hash cycles spun at near-max speed as they all entered the Operations Room.


    It was dim and cold, humming with the rhythm of industry ¡ª of pressure.


    Kara was already there, looking at Rig 2 with a curious expression on her face. Somehow the Rig had already solved a block that early morning. Was it time to crown a new beast?


    The boss, Darren, had arrived earlier than everyone else, a thermos in hand, suit discarded for sleeves rolled and a graphite-gray shirt. His tie was stuffed into his pocket.


    Before Darren had entered the office, he''d received the last update from Rachel on Trendteller sales.


    "We sold three new Trendteller+ licenses overnight," she had said, keeping pace with him.


    Darren didn''t even glance away from the door as he approached. "Good."


    "That brings our total to $312,000 in MRR for Trendteller and $110,000 in customized contracts for the + model," she added, waiting for something ¡ª a nod, a smile.


    Instead: "That''s great work. Tell Sandy I said well done."


    Rachel''s lips parted, disappointment flickering. But she remembered what he had said to her, and she understood. She turned around and returned to the main halls of the company.


    By 7:05 AM, work was in full flow.


    "Hashrate''s stable," Kara announced from her desk. "We''re holding 710 MH/s. Nonce iteration''s back within tolerances. All rigs ¡ª except Rig 2 ¡ª are green."


    Darren looked up. "What''s wrong with Rig 2?"


    "It mined a block very early today and now it''s heated up quite a lot. So it''s basically a cooling delay. I swapped its oil tank last night ¡ª fresh batch ¡ª but one of the coils had a sticky valve. Shouldn''t be a big deal, it''s only 2¡ãC above threshold."


    He nodded once. "Let''s keep an eye on it. Run diagnostics every twenty minutes. Push it gently."


    The second block hit at 7:32 AM.


    Block Height: 76,215


    BTC Earned: 50


    Current Price: $0.70


    Rig: 4 ¨C ''The Beast''


    By 9:00 AM, two more were mined.


    Day 1 of Week 5 Output So Far: 3 Blocks = 150 BTC


    Total BTC: 1,900


    But it was then that things started changing.


    Few hours later, around 9:18 AM, Kara was sipping a chocolate drink, halfway across the room when she noticed something.


    She narrowed her eyes. "Why is Rig 2''s core temp spiking?"


    Darren was beside her in seconds. Rico and Deborah joined from the other side, eyes wide.


    GPU Temp: 94.6¡ãC


    Hashrate: Dropping


    Warning: Thermal Fluctuation Detected


    "This doesn''t make sense," Rico muttered. "I ran a flush before the batch was loaded. Oil was clean."


    "What do you mean it was clean, Rico?" Kara said, voice tight. "It doesn''t look clean. Look at the viscosity logs."


    Darren stepped in. He looked at Rico with an intense gaze and then at Kara.


    "I swear it was clean. I swear!" Rico claimed.


    Darren ignored them. "Pull the oil now. Rico, cut power. Kara, prep a drain."


    Rico hesitated. "But, Darren. We''re mining right now¡ª"


    "I said cut the power."


    Without wasting another second, Rico flipped the switch. Ding... ding... dong!


    Rig 2 went dark.


    A minute later, Kara and Deborah had both hands on deck and had begun siphoning the tank.


    The fluid came out cloudy.


    As Darren watched them, he began to wonder if this small error might be catastrophic for Rig 2 and possibly, the entire operation.


    He glanced at Rico who appeared beside himself. The system said he was honest so Darren really couldn''t blame him for anything.


    He let out a frustrated sigh and facepalmed.


    "System. Activate A.B.A and analyze cooling logs for Rig 2 and cross-check timestamps."


    Ding!


    ©³A?B?A Response: Detected Mismatch in Tank Refill Schedule


    ¡ª Batch ID: #104-B


    Source Timestamp: 11:46 PM


    Flagged as: Emergency Reserve (unverified)


    Conclusion: Unchecked oil batch from overflow stock was used on Rig 2.©¿


    Darren froze. "It wasn''t even the new shipment. It was leftover junk."


    Kara''s expression dropped. "That... that was supposed to be disposed of last week."


    "Who signed off on the storage?"


    Silence.


    Rico lifted his hand slowly. "I... I did. I thought we might run low. I didn''t think¡ª"


    "Don''t finish that sentence," Kara snapped.


    Darren glared at Rico for a while, but he didn''t say anything. He simply turned to the board and erased the last block.


    Rollback: BTC Output corrected to 2 Blocks


    Cooling Loss BTC: 50


    Then he said, calmly, "If we didn''t catch that in time, we would''ve shorted the entire board."


    Rico stepped back. "I''m sorry, man¡ª I was trying to¡ª"


    "You were trying to be smart. And you got lucky," Darren said, his voice like steel cable. "Next time, we won''t be."


    After the Rig was dried of all the bad oil, some workers came in and helped Kara and Deborah pump fresh, clean oil into Rig 2.


    And after nearly two hours of downtime, it was finally back online. But the damage had been done.


    Week 5: 3 - 1 = 2 BTC


    Goal (2 Day Goal): 20 BTC.


    By 5:16 PM, the rigs were back in full swing.


    Block 76,216 ¨C Mined by Rig 6


    BTC Earned: 50


    Rig Temp: 70.8¡ãC


    Coolant: Verified Clean


    But even with the output resuming...


    ...the system pinged again.


    Ding!


    ©³Warning: Unusual Pressure Detected in Rig 4


    ¡ª Oil bubbling unevenly


    ¡ª Potential unsafe oil in coil layer©¿


    Kara stared at the message. "Again?"


    Darren came over.


    "It''s one of the original tanks," Kara said. "We reused the base housing from Week 2. It''s probably a hairline cracked under heat cycling."


    "We can''t pull Rig 4 offline. It''s our fastest."


    "We don''t have a choice. One more hour and the entire setup could pop."


    He ran the math.


    They needed to finish the day flawlessly in order to get a chance of hitting 20 BTC by tomorrow''s end.


    Losing Rig 4 now might mean it was over.


    Darren looked Kara in the eye. "What''s the absolute latest we can push it before it hits failure?"


    She hesitated. "Based on oil integrity? If we keep it at current load... maybe two more blocks. But if the tank collapses, we don''t just lose the rig. We lose everything it''s touched. GPU damage, maybe board shorts."


    Darren turned away, hands on hips.


    And said nothing.


    He just watched.


    "Are you just saying we could lose everything if Rig 4 goes down? Everything we''ve mined?"


    Kara saw the fear in Darren''s eyes and she herself was too scared to say with her lips so she just nodded. Slow and daunting.


    Darren''s eyes darkened. "There''s no more fresh oil. The distribution company is supposed to get new containers today. They haven''t. Where are they!"


    Kara followed him as he paced around, trying to calm him down. "They called and said the contracting and supply company that''s meant to transport it to them was dissolved a few days ago. They need a few days to get a new contractor."


    "A few days?!" Darren exclaimed, heart pounding. "We don''t have a few days! We barely even have a day! What contracting company would just abruptly dissolve without warning their clients?!"


    Ding!


    ©³Company successfully disrupted!©¿


    ©³Congratulations on taking down the company, Wilsons Logistics and Supply.©¿


    Darren paused. What... the... fuck?


    Rig 4 continued to blare. And Darren could lose it all today.

 Chapter 147: Damage Control

    Darren was in his office now. As usual, it was silent, though this silence was more heavy ¡ª not peaceful, not calm, but smothering.


    He leaned forward on his desk, eyes fixed on the real-time mining dashboard on his computer as if sheer his willpower could cool the rigs down.


    For Rig 4, hr could see its indicator pulsing with an ominous orange glow. The oil pressure warnings were getting louder, the margin of safety thinner.


    Even here in his office, it felt terrifying to listen to, and he started to wonder how it must be for the workers back in the Operations Room. It surely would be hard to concentrate.


    Every second ticked like a countdown to disaster.


    1,950 BTC mined so far.


    However, that number could be 0 BTC in some hours, and that was what terrified Darren. Almost turned him mad in fact.


    If Rig 4 failed, they could lose all of it. Not the future. Not potential. Real, tangible Bitcoin. Gone.


    His jaw clenched. ''Come on, Darren. Think! Think! There had to be something!''


    He had earlier spent time admonishing himself for spending time angry at himself.


    You see, if Darren hadn''t told Ryan about Terry''s theft, then the company wouldn''t have been dissolved, and his oil would have arrived today.


    1,950 BTC wouldn''t have been on the line!


    Darren had been so angry at himself for that till he realized how stupid it was for him to condemn himself. He''d disrupted a rival business, and even though it had happened at the wrong time, the system was still going to reward him for it.


    All he had to do now was brainstorm ways to solve this issue.


    He''d done it before. He could do it again.


    His phone rang.


    Darren picked it up, seeing it was Kara. Her voice came through the speaker: "Eight hours left, boss. It''s still mining at 82 MH/s. I think... it could give us two more Blocks, maybe three. But after that... it''s done."


    Darren closed his eyes for a breath. Two more Blocks meant 100 BTC. At the current rate, that was $70.


    "Alright, keep mining and keep an eye on the heat."


    That $70 was $7 million in the timeline Darren came from, and the 1950 BTC was almost 200 million.


    Fuck...


    He rubbed his eyes, then opened them before speaking firmly. "System. Scan for high-end logistics and chemical transport companies within Los Alverez. Prioritize mineral oil capacity. Speed is a priority."


    ©³Affirmative©¿


    ©³Scanning©¿


    ©³...©¿


    Ding!


    ©³Result: Aureole Hauling & Chemical Freight Co.©¿


    ©³ETA: 2¨C4 Days (Standard)


    Emergency Deployment: Restricted


    Parent Company: Bordeaux Corporation©¿


    His eyes narrowed. "You''ve got to be fucking kidding me."


    He stared at the name glowing in purple on the Investor System''s interface. There it was. Bordeaux Corporation. Of course.


    ''Why does it seem like all my past decisions are just coming back and biting me on my ass!''


    Disgruntled, Darren took a breath and picked up his phone. He opened CryptoTracker''s messaging system, scrolled to his last conversation with the ice queen herself and typed:


    Mr. Duckling: Are you available for a talk?


    On the other side of Los Alverez, in the Bordeaux Tower, Miss Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux was coming out of the building, an expensive white fur wrapped around her neck and a beautiful purple, formal gown draping her elegant, feminine and matured form.


    Realizing she had a message, one of her guards handed her her phone ¡ª the latest Apple product ¡ª and she read the message.


    Miss Lamb scoffed.


    CheyenneLamb: What do you want, Steele?


    Seeing how fast the reply came, Darren realized she was not completely angry with him.


    Or at least, she still desired conversation with him.


    He quickly replied:


    Mr. Duckling: I need to ask you for something. I''m in a tight fix and one of your subsidiaries, Aureole Hauling, is the closest that could help. This request can''t be met by the director of the company which is why I need to speak to you.


    Cheyenne read that with a feeling of satisfaction. So the little, smug investor wanted her help.


    She took her time this time. Then, finally:


    CheyenneLamb: So now you ask for a favor. After refusing to meet your end the last time.


    Mr. Duckling: That was on you. Help me this time and then... I''ll owe you.


    Cheyenne looked at the message. She did like the idea of this handsome, prideful investor being indebted to her. As a business owner, there were multiple things she could ask of him.


    Darren meanwhile, waited impatiently for her response. He stared at his phone screen, teeth clenched. ''Come on... Come on.''


    There was a long pause.


    Then the message appeared.


    CheyenneLamb: Alright then. Meet me at La Villette. I''m sure you can find your way there. 30 minutes.


    Darren exhaled, his fingers already typing back.


    Mr. Duckling: I''ll be there in twenty.


    Cheyenne ¡ª with a smirk on her face ¡ª gave the phone back to the guard, long fingers smoothing the front of her gown. Her silver eyes sparkled, not with joy ¡ª but with something cold and triumphant.


    "Driver," she called as she stepped into the luxurious black vehicle. "I''ll be having lunch at the La Villette today."


    "Yes, ma''am." The driver nodded and started the engine.


    ---


    La Villette was a quiet oasis of green and elegance nestled within the busy city. A restaurant garden built like an aristocrat''s courtyard: tall hedges, smooth stone floors, string lights, and a long row of pristine white tables under cream parasols.


    When Darren arrived, she was already there.


    He spotted her seated under a wisteria-draped trellis. Purple silk blouse. Sunglasses. Wine already poured.


    That was surprising, seeing that he had hurried. Was she more excited for this visit? The Bordeaux Tower wasn''t that close to this restaurant, was it?


    Darren shook the thoughts away, seeing that they were nowhere near important.


    He walked to the table, adjusting his suit and steeling his face. Even though he needed her help, he didn''t want to look too vulnerable in front of a woman like Cheyenne Lamb.


    She didn''t rise when he approached, merely crossed one leg over the other and waited. Her confidence was absolute.


    He slid into the seat across from her.


    "You''re late," she said.


    "You said thirty minutes. I made it here in twenty three."


    Cheyenne tilted her head. "I said thirty minutes. You said twenty. So you''re late."


    Darren looked at her. "You look good," he said, coolly. "Purple suits you."


    She smirked, but didn''t thank him. "Let''s not talk about my looks, Mr. Steele. I thought you were a more cutthroat type of man? Go on now. Let''s skip the small talk. Tell me why I am here."


    Darren sat back, crossing his arms. "One of our main rigs is on its last legs. We burned through our clean oil."


    "Main rigs?" she raised a curious brow. "You are mining?" She chuckled, her voice was quite sweet, even though annoying in the moment. "What is with this obsession with Bitcoin? Do you really think digital numbers are ever going to be worth anything?"


    Darren looked at her coldly. "You wanted us to skip small talk."


    "Oh, that is right." She took a sip of her wine. "Well then, I apologize. Do go on, Mr. Steele."


    He didn''t waste time. "The distributor we were working with¡ª Wilson Logistics¡ª is gone. Your subsidiary, Aureole, is the closest high-capacity hauler that can deliver the oil we need."


    "And what," she said, stirring her wine slowly, "do you need from me?"


    "An override," Darren said. "Standard order routing takes two to four days. I need the oil in six hours."


    Cheyenne looked unimpressed. "That''s not a small ask. That would require priority reallocation, jump a dozen queues, and bump two military clients. Not to mention the legal liability."


    Darren leaned in slightly. "Come on, Miss Lamb. It''s oil. Not uranium. And I''m willing to pay above contract rate. I''m not asking for free."


    She met his gaze. "You''re asking me to move a branch of my company at your command, on short notice, under my name, for your convenience. I don''t care what the rate is. This isn''t about money. It''s about leverage. Power. And I''m the one who has that power."


    She darkened her gaze, tauntingly. "Don''t you think it''ll be wise to be nicer to me."


    Darren''s face was flat. He knew ultimately, she was right, so he changed his tone quickly. "You''re right. I''m sorry. Just... tell me... What do you want in return?"


    Cheyenne paused, set her wine glass down. Her silver eyes didn''t blink. "What do I want in return, Mr. Darren Steele? We never had that initial meeting did we?"


    "Is that what you want? The meeting?"


    "Well, to be precise, I want you," she said.


    Darren tilted his head slightly, skeptical. Confused.


    She clarified. "Not romantically, obviously. I want your loyalty. Or rather, I want access. What I''m saying here is when the time comes ¡ª and it will ¡ª I will request something of you. Maybe a data set. Maybe a partnership. Maybe something else. When that moment comes, you don''t ask questions. You don''t stall. You do what I ask."


    Darren considered this. The deal wasn''t just about favors anymore ¡ª this was a future debt. One with no terms defined.


    "You already have something in mind, don''t you?" he said. "You just don''t want to say it to me. Not now at least."


    "You should have just come with me to The Pendulum," she replied.


    "I''m here now."


    A pause.


    He nodded. "Fine. You''ll have it. The favor. But only one. I won''t complain. I won''t refuse. Just get me the oil."


    Her lips curled.


    She picked up her phone, dialed with ease.


    "This is Bordeaux," she said. "Priority override on Aureole Hauling. Destination: Steele Complex. I want that oil moved in under six hours. Reroute whatever you need."


    The person on the other line responded.


    Then Cheyenne ended the call.


    "It''s done," she said. "Check your delivery tracker."


    Darren checked. Sure enough, Aureole''s logistics system was pinging a loading notification.


    He looked back at her.


    "Thank you," he said quietly.


    Cheyenne lifted her wineglass again, her nails gleaming like sharp glass.


    "Don''t thank me." She raised the glass. "You owe me now. And I''ll be coming to collect."

 Chapter 148: The Ten Last Blocks

    The sound of wheels echoed through the walls and corridors of the company building.


    Not just any wheels ¡ª but thick, high-grade reinforced tires rumbling over the private delivery ramp of the Steele Complex. The security cameras caught the moment first, then Kara saw it on the internal monitor: a matte-black freight hauler bearing the gold-and-silver insignia of Aureole Hauling & Chemical Freight Co.


    She blinked once. Then again. Then sat up straighter.


    "Is that¡ª?" she whispered, already rising from her chair.


    Before anyone could even react, the Operations Room door burst open and Kara leaned out toward the lower atrium. "Rico! Deborah! Get to the rear dock. The oil''s here!"


    "What? Already?" Rico yelled.


    Deborah''s eyes were widened. "He''s got a replacement? That was fast? Barely even 5 hours."


    "Stop talking and move your damn feet!"


    The trio hurried to the delivery ramp with some male workers, joining the team to help bring the oil into the store room.


    Fifteen minutes later, four massive barrels ¡ª transparent, labeled, and secured with triple seals ¡ª were being rolled into the equipment bay under the north rig wall. Each barrel was marked For Emergency Use Only.


    Darren arrived as the last barrel was wheeled in. His sleeves were already rolled up again, and his face bore that same unreadable tension it had held since dawn.


    Kara walked to him. "I can''t believe you did it. Aureole Hauling? That''s a major supply company, is it not? Getting a supply like this would take days, how was it done in hours?"


    "I met with a contact," Darren replied vaguely. "But that''s not what matters now. The oil is here, so let''s get it done and return to mining."


    Kara nodded. "As you wish, boss."


    Summoning Rico and Deborah, Kara headed to Rig 4 where a couple of workers had started work.


    They worked fast.


    The faulty base from Rig 4 was detached, the coils flushed again, and the housing units reinforced with a double insulation wrap. The new oil ¡ª pure, crystal-clear, dense ¡ª poured into the tub like liquid glass.


    It took an hour to reroute power safely, test the coolant flow, and initiate a controlled boot sequence.


    At exactly 2:02 PM, Rig 4 came online.


    Its familiar humming started slow... then stabilized.


    Hashrate: 88.3 MH/s


    Temp: 40.6¡ãC


    Status: GREEN


    A collective cheer rang out through the room. Shared sighs of relief passed around, while others thanked God that their hard work over the month hadn''t been blown away.


    "Yes!" Kara whooped, spinning once with her arms in the air.


    Rico leaned on the rack and nearly slid to the floor. "Holy fuck, I thought we were done for."


    Darren wasn''t in the mood for cheering. Even though he was relieved that nothing was being lost, he still held a gripe, wishing this never happened.


    Silent, he just stood there, watching the rig come alive again.


    Ding. Ding. Ding. It continued to sing mechanically.


    This machine had carried half his vision for the past month.


    If it had gone down today, all of it ¡ª the planning, the optimization, the sheer stress ¡ª would have been pointless.


    Because they had programmed it as the main Rig, it carried and anchored the results of the other Rigs, which was why The Beast needed to be protected.


    Something like this should never happen again.


    He left the Operations Room.


    The IT team watched him leave quietly and began to whisper to themselves. Kara frowned, knowing that the stress of it all was too much for Darren at this point.


    The IT team was hers to lead and she''d been depending on him far too much.


    She turned to the team, her eyes turning stern and serious. "What are you looking at?" she demanded, capturing their focus and pulling their stares from the door that Darren had gone through.


    "The boss has done a lot of work and has put a lot of resources into this operation. We have to take this seriously. We can not let him down, is that understood?"


    Everyone nodded, some responded, "Yes, ma''am."


    "We have mined 4 Blocks today. The goal is 10 and we''re yet to reach it. 6 more left." She clapped her hands with urgency. "Get to mining."


    Together, as a united team with one goal in mind: To not let the boss, Darren Steele, down, the IT team achieved success that day.


    Kara walked over and, one by one, began updating the Block tally.


    Week 5 ¡ª Day 1 Output:


    Block 76,216 ¨C Rig 6 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,217 ¨C Rig 2 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,218 ¨C Rig 4 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,219 ¨C Rig 5 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,220 ¨C Rig 2 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,221 ¨C Rig 4 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,222 ¨C Rig 7 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,223 ¨C Rig 4 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,224 ¨C Rig 1 ¨C 50 BTC


    Block 76,225 ¨C Rig 4 ¨C 50 BTC


    Final Total: 10 Blocks = 500 BTC


    Total Mined in October: 2,450 BTC


    When Darren returned, he expected to see them still struggling to reach the number, but they had accomplished the goal already and were presently cooling the GPUs.


    Looking away from their knowing gazes, he stared at the board and saw that 10 Blocks had been mined.


    Darren''s heart felt warm and a smile stretched on his face. Even with the setback, they''d successfully completed the day''s goal. All because they didn''t want to let him down, all because they were united in their respect for his vision.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve earned a Character Bonus!©¿


    Ding!


    ----------------------


    ©³You''ve now successfully unlocked a Feature©¿


    ©³System Feature Unlocked: Charismatic Command ¡ª Charismatic Command is a specialized system feature that amplifies the host''s presence, influence, and leadership ability within group environments. Through subtle cognitive resonance, persuasive micro-expressions, and enhanced communicative aura, the host exudes a commanding presence that instills trust, loyalty, and belief in those around him.©¿


    ©³This feature comes with a special passive©¿


    ©³Special Passive:


    Command Aura: +25% trust and receptiveness in negotiations when the host is calm, clear, and goal-driven.©¿


    ---------------------


    Darren stared at the notification. It was a pretty functional Feature. Even the special passive was interesting too. He could already think of multiple things he could use it to do.


    Darren exhaled.


    A long, quiet breath that emptied everything out of him.


    Kara looked at him from the side. "Well, boss. You did it. We did it. First month is over. Quarter locked."


    He nodded faintly. "Yeah... we did."


    Rico walked up, flung an arm over his shoulder like they''d just won a basketball championship. "Now that," he said, "was a fuckin'' week."


    Darren just stared at him and Rico briskly took his hand off and walked backwards. "Okay, slow steps."


    Darren ignored him and looked at the rigs, his heart finally easing its thudding rhythm. Every Block. Every GPU. Every decision. Worth it.


    "Kara," he called.


    "Yeah?" she responded.


    "This will be the last time I''ll be down here. Everything is up to you now. I''ll get weekly reports, but that''s it. Do you understand?"


    She smiled softly. "Yes I do. Thanks..."


    Darren turned to face her, lifting a brow.


    "...for showing me the reins," she continued. "I think I can take it up from here."


    He smiled briefly. "I''m sure you can."


    Then he turned, heading for the door. ''So far, so good. I taught Amelia the ropes in scouting and investment strategy, then let her take the lead with the Nevarro deal. I guided Kara on how to run the mining operations¡ª now it''s her time to take control. Maybe it''s time I check in on Sandy next.''


    Leaving the complex, Darren couldn''t help thinking about Cheyenne Lamb, and her ominous favor that he knew for certain was going to cost him great discomfort one way or the other.


    Just thinking about it brought wrinkles to his forehead, but once he stepped out, his eyes met a certain young, blonde beautiful girl, standing meekly with a lunchbox in her hand.


    Darren''s eyes lit up, and he finally smiled.

 Chapter 149: Penny

    Seeing her was like tasting a spoonful of cold vanilla ice cream after a burning hot day.


    The autumn breeze whispered through the trees outside the Steele Complex, and everyone else disappeared into the ethos as Darren locked eyes with her, the last of the golden sun catching his hair.


    A few feet away from the sidewalk, there she was.


    Penelope Castle, in a pastel cardigan and a pink ribbon tying up her golden hair, stood just ahead on the steps, holding a simple lunchbox pressed to her thighs.


    Her bright blue eyes lit up the moment she saw him.


    Hands in pockets, Darren walked to her, that smile still hadn''t left his face, and his shoulders swung happily.


    Once he was close enough, the flowery scent of her perfume caught his nose, and the beautiful glint in her eyes shone in his.


    "You look like you just fought ten wars," she teased gently.


    "And lost at least five," Darren replied, the weariness in his tone lightened by the way his face softened when he saw her.


    They smiled at each other for a moment.


    "Mister," Penelope said.


    "Penny." Darren replied.


    He looked down at the box in her grasp. "Do you have something for me?"


    She bit her lip to fight a blush. "How prideful to think that it''s for you."


    Darren chuckled. "Well, isn''t it?"


    She rolled her eyes. "Yes, it is. I made you lunch."


    He blinked. "Lunch?"


    She nodded proudly and held up the box. "Since it''s this late I think we''ll have to call it dinner, right? And... I figured you wouldn''t eat unless someone forced it down your throat."


    Darren chuckled. "Guilty as charged."


    He led the way and she turned around to follow. "Come on. Let''s go to the park."


    They started walking together, turning onto the path that led to their favorite park just a block away ¡ª a quiet little corner of Los Alverez lined with lavender bushes, wooden benches, and those elegant street lamps that clicked on with a warm hum when evening fell.


    By the time they reached their bench, the sky had turned a watercolor orange and pink. Penelope unwrapped the lunchbox with delicate fingers and placed it on his lap.


    "My mouth is watering out of curiosity of what it is," Darren said as he opened it.


    "Now I''m worried that I''m going to disappoint you," Penelope pouted.


    "No, don''t say that. You could never disa¡ª" Darren finished opening it and stopped, the words catching in his throat.


    His eyes widened at what was before him.


    Inside the lunchbox was an artfully arranged plate: lemon-herb chicken glazed in a honey-butter sauce, roasted vegetables arranged in a ring of color ¡ª carrots, purple cabbage, bell peppers ¡ª and beneath it all, a small stack of creamy garlic mashed potatoes garnished with parsley flakes.


    The scent hit him like a dream ¡ª savory, warm, and impossibly comforting.


    Darren gulped. Either the scent of the food or the fact that someone made this for him was causing his heart to melt.


    "You made this... for me?" he asked her.


    Penelope''s fingers clenched shyly as she turned pink. "There were no lectures today so I had a lot of time in my hands and I wanted... to make you something nice."


    "I love it." Darren muttered, still awestruck.


    Her eyes met his. "You do?"


    "Yes, I love it." He said again. "This is one of the nicest things anyone has done for me."


    "Oh..."


    He stared into her eyes. "Thank you."


    Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Penelope lowered her head, still pink-cheeked. "You''re welcome."


    Darren looked at her for a while longer, then at the meal. He took a good, deep sniff. "Smells like heaven."


    She laughed once. "I hope it tastes like it," she said, swinging her legs and watching him nervously.


    Darren picked up the fork and took one bite.


    "Ughhhh!" He groaned softly. "Penny... Penny, Penny, Penny. Marry me."


    She turned red instantly. "Wha¡ª!"


    "I''m kidding," he said through a grin, "but seriously, this might be the best thing I''ve had all month."


    She brightened. "Dad and I have been trying new recipes at the Cottage. Ever since the renovations started, it''s felt like a real kitchen again. New ovens, real prep counters, even Dad''s got a bit of that spark back. He''s been humming when he cooks."


    Darren smiled as he chewed. "That''s good to hear. I''ve been meaning to come visit again. It''s been too long."


    "You should," she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I think he misses you already."


    He nodded. "I''ll try this week."


    She looked at him then, a bit longer than usual, and then said, "You''ve been looking... I don''t know. Tired lately."


    He raised a brow at her. "You don''t say."


    "I mean it," she continued. "Even your aura feels heavier. I can imagine. Being the CEO of a growing investment firm, handling everything, even the software company you just launched... It''s a lot."


    He paused mid-bite, surprised by her words.


    "You can''t keep doing everything," she said seriously. "That''s why you''ve got employees. You trained them, right? Let them do it. Sit back. Make the money. Then complain when they don''t give you what you want."


    He laughed.


    "No, really!" she insisted, poking his shoulder. "You''re the CEO. You shouldn''t be in the trenches. You should be up top, managing the politics, steering the vision. Don''t break your back doing everyone else''s job. You''re already dealing with sabotage, corporate enemies, even¡ª" she stopped herself, flushing.


    Darren blinked, genuinely amused and a little impressed. "Where did all that come from?"


    She fidgeted, looking away. "I just... I don''t want you to burn out, that''s all."


    He smiled, scooping more chicken. "Look at you. Caring for me. I feel like a husband."


    Her eyes went wide as plates. "H-Husband?!"


    She squeaked, turning away and burying her face in her knees. "D-Don''t say weird things like that! Geez!"


    Darren laughed out loud this time. It echoed gently through the trees, dancing with the rustling of leaves and the distant sound of children playing near the park''s fountain before their parents would eventually force them to leave.


    They sat like that for a while, the soft hum of the street lamps filling the silence. The world around them seemed to pause ¡ª warm hues of the sun fading behind skyline silhouettes, birds heading home, the wind quiet and content.


    After a long moment, Darren looked sideways. "Penny?"


    "Yeah?"


    "I don''t think I''ve ever asked... what college do you go to?"


    "Oh," she said, blinking. "BUMH. Brookfield University of Medicine and Health."


    Darren''s head snapped at her direction. "...Eh?"


    She raised an innocent brow. "Eh?"

 Chapter 150: Angels and Demons

    The park glowed in the warm orange of the streetlamps as Darren and Penelope sat side by side on the bench, the lunchbox resting between them, its scent still lingering sweetly in the air.


    After the humorous response to her college reveal, they continued to stare at each other for several seconds. Penelope herself not even knowing what was so surprising.


    Darren blinked at her, almost laughing.


    "Wait, wait. Hold on. You''re telling me you go to Brookfield University of Medicine and Health? BUME?"


    Penelope tilted her head innocently. "Yeah. Why?"


    He leaned back slightly, stunned. "I went to BUBL. Brookfield University of Business and Law."


    Her eyes widened slightly. "Really?"


    "How come you never told me you went to BUMH?" he asked, half accusing, half amused.


    She shrugged, playing with a loose strand of hair. "You never asked."


    Darren frowned. "But hold on... We''ve talked about my life at school before. And I''ve told you about some of my colleagues too."


    Penelope nodded. "Yeah, Mister. But you never actually told me which school exactly. You just said university, not Brookfield."


    Darren blinked again. "Oh."


    He looked down, staring at the piece of chicken in his hand. Penelope watched him with a smile on her face. "What are you thinking?"


    He glanced at her and chuckled, shaking his head. "No it''s nothing. I just realized how small the world really is."


    "You''re right," she agreed, smiling warmly. "It is that way sometimes."


    They fell into a rhythm, comparing the two branches ¡ª BUBL and BUMH. Darren talked about the heavy academic focus at BUBL, the aggressive competition. Penelope spoke about BUMH''s relentless grind, the internships, the exams, the nonstop rush to prove yourself in hospitals and labs.


    As the conversation lulled, Penelope leaned her head on her knees, looking at him thoughtfully. "How is it... with your colleagues? Last time we talked you spoke about that Terry Wilson guy and others. I mean... Have you mended things with anyone?"


    Darren exhaled through his nose, his eyes growing distant. "Not really. In fact, one of them and I just finished a pretty major battle over the software you mentioned."


    "Tamara Johnstone?"


    "That''s the one."


    After sighing, he shook his head. "College wasn''t exactly the best time for me, you know. Most of them looked down on me back then. Like I was nothing."


    He stared at the ground for a moment, a small, almost bitter smile tugging at his mouth. "I don''t want to believe that people just forget those kinds of things because what ¡ª we''re adults now?"


    Penelope offered a soft, understanding smile. "I get it," she said quietly. "That''s why I try so hard to be good to everyone now. I don''t want enemies. I don''t want regrets in the future."


    Darren looked at her ¡ª really looked ¡ª and the innocence she carried glowed in the twilight.


    In Penelope''s face, he saw something pure ¡ª the same pureness he''d always seem, though it appeared more pronounced now. Having her around had been good for him. She was hopeful... and it bled into him.


    However, she was also heartbreakingly fragile.


    Darren let out a quiet chuckle. "Even then, Penny," he said gently, "you''ll still make enemies. You''ll still have regrets. Even if they aren''t your fault. You have to be ready for that."


    His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "That''s just how life works. Doesn''t matter if you''re as kind as an angel. Somewhere out there, there''s a demon who''ll hate you for it."


    Penelope stared at him, admiration sparkling in her eyes. To her, at that moment, Darren didn''t look like a tired CEO carrying the weight of a company.


    He looked like a quiet warrior ¡ª tired, yes, but wise. Calm. Strong. Someone who had faced storms and kept walking forward.


    Without thinking, she gave him a soft shoulder nudge.


    "I guess it''s your turn to lecture me now, huh?" she teased, cheeks slightly pink.


    Darren chuckled, a low, rich sound. "That''s what a good husband does," he joked.


    Penelope gasped softly, her face flushing red. "Stop saying that!"


    She curled up, hiding her burning cheeks against her knees, like a bashful anime girl caught off-guard.


    Darren laughed again, amused by how easily she flustered.


    After a peaceful silence where only the distant rustle of trees and the quiet chirping of crickets filled the air, Penelope spoke again, more seriously.


    "Seriously though... Are you just going to avoid them forever? You''re all in the same industry now. You''re going to cross paths sooner or later, don''t you think?"


    Darren exhaled. "Sooner, probably."


    He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. "We have a reunion coming up. Friday night."


    Penelope shot upright, her hair bouncing. "What? Really?"


    He nodded, indifferent. "Yeah. I wasn''t really planning to go, honestly."


    "What?!" she said again, louder. She turned toward him, earnest. "You have to go, Darren! This is your chance! Show them you''re not the same guy they looked down on."


    Darren raised an eyebrow. "I have thought of going but it''s just... It feels like... if I go then it''s just me trying to prove myself, and that shows I was affected. Like I''m admitting they got to me."


    "So what?" she said brightly. "You were affected. And sulking about it isn''t going to help you heal."


    She grinned mischievously. "But the look on their faces when they see you now? That would help a lot."


    Darren looked at her and laughed ¡ª a short, real laugh ¡ª at the way she put it.


    "I''m serious!" she insisted, laughing a little too. "You can''t just hide from them forever. Go there. Show them the man you''ve become."


    He sighed heavily, but there was a tiny smile playing on his lips.


    "Fine, fine. I''ll go."


    Penelope beamed, clapping her hands together. "Good! Now ¡ª next step! We need to figure out what you''re going to wear."


    His brow shot up at her. "What are you on about? I have clothes."


    She snorted. "Not the right clothes. Nothing you have now is... big enough for what you''re going to do that night. You need something new. Something classy. Something that says, ''I''m way out of your league.''"


    Darren shook his head, chuckling. "Even at that, it''s late, Penny. Shops are closed."


    She jumped up, grabbing the lunchbox and stuffing everything back inside. "Exactly why it''s the best time to go shopping! Come on!"


    Laughing despite himself, Darren let her grab his wrist and pull him up as the park worker, distant in the background, started flicking off the lamps one by one.


    Together, the two of them disappeared into the evening ¡ª a small, golden-haired whirlwind dragging a dark-suited storm along behind her.

 Chapter 151: Perfect Suit

    The glass doors of Camelot Boutique slid open with a silent chime, spilling warm light onto the darkened street.


    Darren Steele stepped inside first, his hand in his pocket, his posture relaxed but his sharp blue eyes already scanning the interior like a bored king surveying a court he barely cared about.


    When he was done with his survey of the place, he finally allowed Penelope to step him.


    Getting his approval, she practically skipped in, her blonde ponytail bouncing with every step, her blue sundress swishing around her knees. She stopped a few paces in, hands clasped in front of her, spinning once to take it all in.


    Camelot Boutique was the main area of expense when it came to men''s clothes. At least in the streets of Mauravard where very wealthy people resided and some of the most important company buildings were located, including the Steele Complex.


    With a rich history and richer owners, the boutique had the resources to offer their customers nothing but quality.


    Rows of pristine designer suits lined the walls. Rich velvets, silks, and crisp tailored shirts gleamed under the recessed lighting. Shoes polished to a mirror shine sat atop glass pedestals.


    Penelope gasped softly, stars in her eyes. "Wow, Mister! This place is... very fancy!" she whispered, tugging at his sleeve with the giddy energy of a kid in a candy store.


    "You get all bubbly when you''re excited, you know that?" Darren told her with a smile.


    "Do I? I didn''t notice."


    Darren gave a small grunt, tugging the sleeve free casually. "It''s just a clothing store anyway. Not a church."


    She pouted exaggeratedly, sticking out her bottom lip. "Well excuse me for having taste!"


    A nearby attendant ¡ª a thin man in a tailored black suit and white gloves ¡ª glanced over at them, smiling politely. Judging by his discreet nod, he ¡ª along with everyone else ¡ª had already assumed they were a couple.


    Darren caught it too and smiled internally. Of course they would.


    Penelope, meanwhile, had already darted toward a row of suits, her fingers skimming across the fine fabrics. "Come on then! Let''s find you something handsome! You''re gonna blow everyone away at your reunion!"


    Darren sighed and rolled his shoulders back. "I thought I was already handsome," he said dryly.


    "You are. But think about what you''re going to be with the perfect suit."


    Darren frowned. "Handsomer?"


    Smiling, Penelope ignored him, plucking a dark navy jacket from the rack and holding it up against his chest. "Hmm... You look good in dark colors, but maybe too serious. You need something that says I''m important but also hotter than your boyfriend."


    He arched a brow, amused . "Hey, I''m not going there to start any fights."


    "Oh I think that''s inevitable at this point. Now move it, Mister!" she ordered, shoving the jacket into his arms. "Go change!"


    "When are you going to stop calling me Mister?"


    She paused. "You don''t like it when I do?"


    Darren''s brow raised. "I mean... I do. I just thought you''d call me by my name now we''re closer."


    She shook her head. "No. Mister''s fine. Now please get dressed."


    Darren turned around slowly. "Alright, ma''am," and headed to the dressing room.


    Inside was sleek and expansive, lined with mirrors and plush seats. Darren grumbled under his breath but obliged, disappearing behind a heavy curtain.


    Moments later, he stepped out wearing the navy jacket and matching pants.


    Penelope leaned back, hand on her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Mmm... No. You look like you''re going to a funeral."


    Darren stared at her, unimpressed. "Good. Maybe it''ll scare them."


    She giggled. "Next!"


    This went on ¡ª suit after suit. Charcoal gray. Black pinstripe. Classic white tux.


    Each time Darren emerged, adjusting a cufflink or smoothing a sleeve with casual arrogance, Penelope would inspect him like an artist critiquing her masterpiece.


    Sometimes she''d circle him with narrowed eyes, sometimes she''d tilt her head dramatically, and once ¡ª laughing ¡ª she even made an exaggerated thumbs-down.


    The workers watched them with indulgent smiles. One whispered to another, "Cute couple, huh?"


    "I know right."


    It became a reminisce of last month when Darren had taken Penny shopping and selected dresses for her. Now it was the other way around.


    At a time, Darren came out shirtless while adjusting a vest he was trying to fit into.


    Penelope turned and caught full sight of him. She almost yelped but covered her mouth as she stared at his upper body.


    His sculpted abs, lean muscles, and the slight V that disappeared into his waistline. When her eyes continued to trace down to V to his bulge, she immediately squeaked like a cartoon mouse.


    Darren looked up.


    Her face went beet red, and she whirled around, nearly tripping over her own feet. "S-Sorry! Sorry sorry!" she yelped, clutching the nearest wall for support.


    Darren smirked lazily, slipping the vest on properly. "Relax. It''s not like you haven''t seen a body before."


    "Not that kind of body!" she hissed under her breath, still refusing to turn around.


    Chuckling, Darren finally pulled on the matching blazer and called, "Alright. Now you can look."


    Cautiously, Penelope peeked over her shoulder.


    And froze.


    Before her stood Darren Steele, dressed in a midnight black Italian-cut suit that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, with a muted crimson pocket square tucked neatly at his breast.


    His black dress shoes gleamed like obsidian, and his shirt ¡ª a pale silver ¡ª caught the light just enough to give him an ethereal sharpness.


    He looked... devastating.


    Penelope''s heart flipped in her chest. She stared, wide-eyed, lips parting slightly as she stepped closer without even realizing it.


    "You''re..." she whispered.


    She gulped.


    "You''re perfect."


    Darren tilted his head, smiling smugly. "Perfect, huh? I''ll take it."


    Penelope nodded, still staring. "Like... seriously handsome. Like you stepped out of one of those billionaire CEO magazines."


    He chuckled. "Good. That''s the energy I need."


    Satisfied, he turned and walked toward the cashier, Penelope skipping after him, her cheeks still pink.


    The suit cost a fortune ¡ª nearly $20,000 ¡ª but Darren paid for it like it was pocket change.


    Once they were back outside, the night air cool around them, Darren tossed the bag into the back of his Aston Martin One-77, its sleek black frame purring quietly under the street lamps.


    Sliding into the driver''s seat, he glanced at Penelope, who was buckling up, still grinning.


    "Well, better get you home before Mr. Castle comes hunting for me," Darren said, starting the engine.


    Penelope blinked, then tilted her head. "You know... I''ve never seen your house before."


    Darren chuckled. "Oh? Well, maybe one of these days."


    There was a beat of silence. Then she turned, eyes sparkling mischievously.


    "How about today? Tonight?"


    Darren almost missed the gear.


    He snapped his head toward her. "Huh?"


    She smiled, a little shy, but determined. "Yeah. I had a really good time today. I don''t want it to end yet. I wanna... go home with you."


    Darren stared at her, one hand still on the gearshift, stunned.


    Her cheeks glowed with sincerity, no seduction in her voice, just innocent eagerness.


    His heart gave a small, unfamiliar stutter.


    This girl...

 Chapter 152: Like a Vault, This One

    Through the glittering streets of Greenbaby, the Aston Martin purred along, its sleek frame slicing through the night like a shadow given form.


    Inside, the leather seats cradled Darren and Penelope, the lights of the exquisite streetlamps glowing across their faces.


    Penelope leaned forward, her fingers brushing the dashboard''s polished surface. "This car is like... a spaceship," she said, her voice bright with wonder. "Do you ever just drive around for fun?"


    Darren''s lips quirked, his sharp blue eyes flicking to her before returning to the road. "Sometimes. Clears my head."


    "Big head like yours needs a lot of clearing.?


    "Hey!"


    Penelope giggled, cheek turning pink. "This street is so beautiful and silent. I''ve lived all my life in LA and I never even knew it existed."


    "Those are private streets for you," Darren replied. "It''s exactly why the wealthy live in places like this. They value their privacy."


    Penny looked at him. "By the wealthy you mean you."


    He chuckled. "Maybe."


    Then they stayed silent for a while, Darren''s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, betraying the flutter in his chest.


    He found himself so uncontrollably nervous. Penelope was coming to his house!


    Her suggestion had caught him off guard, and he didn''t want to question what the intent behind it was. He preferred being oblivious or pretending to be oblivious.


    Speaking of the nervousness. He wasn''t sure if that was exactly what he was feeling. Maybe he was more anxious or just frightened for whatever reason.


    What he was sure of was that the feeling was new, and it was because of her.


    The car turned into the private drive of his mansion. The gates parted silently, and the car ascended a winding ramp, the streetlights falling away below them.


    Penelope pressed her face to the window, her breath fogging the glass. "This is your house?" she whispered, eyes wide. "Wow."


    Darren glanced at her and smiled, parking close to the fountain. "You like?" he asked.


    "You''re asking like you''re going to give it to me," she said through a laugh. "But yes, it''s like a castle in the sky."


    "Castle?" Darren asked. "I see what you did there."


    "There was no pun intended!"


    "Okay. Okay. Whatever you say, Miss Castle."


    They stepped out, and Darren led her to the front door. Once they were close to it, Penelope fidgeted, her excitement mingling with a sudden shyness. "I hope I''m not, like, intruding," she said, glancing at him. "I just... I really wanted to see more of you. Your world, I mean."


    Darren''s heart gave an unfamiliar lurch. He met her gaze, her blue eyes sparkling with sincerity, and for a moment, he forgot how to respond. "You''re not intruding," he said finally, his voice low. "I''m... glad you''re here."


    Penelope lit up.


    He opened the door to reveal the grand foyer of his mansion. Marble floors stretched beneath a soaring ceiling, where a chandelier cast prisms of light across the walls.


    There was modern art ¡ª for that time ¡ª hanging in tasteful frames, and beautiful furniture of high value arranged across the room.


    Penelope stepped forward, her sandals clicking softly. "Wow," she breathed, spinning to take it all in. "It''s so... beautiful. Do you live here alone, Mr Darren? ... it''s so quiet."


    Before Darren could respond, a warm, melodic voice echoed from the stairs. "Darren? Is that you, darling?"


    Penelope froze, and Darren''s shoulders tensed.


    A woman appeared, her dark and silver hair swept into an elegant bun, her silk blouse and tailored pants exuding effortless grace. Pamela Steele, Darren''s mother, had the same sharp blue eyes as her son, but hers sparkled with mischief and delight as they landed on Penelope.


    Penelope was just about to assume the worse, when¡ª


    "Oh my goodness!" Pamela clapped her hands, her smile wide. "Darren, you brought a girl home? And such a lovely one!"


    Penelope''s face flushed scarlet, and she gave a nervous wave. "H-Hi! I''m Penelope. It''s nice to meet you!"


    Darren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mom, don''t start. Penelope''s just... visiting."


    Pamela waved a dismissive hand, already circling Penelope like an excited curator admiring a rare artifact. "Nonsense! You never bring anyone here, darling. When you do, it''s all about work this and work that. This is a moment." She turned to Penelope, her tone conspiratorial. "Tell me, dear, how did you manage to get my stoic son to open up? He''s like a vault, this one."


    Penelope giggled, glancing at Darren, who was glaring at his mother with mock exasperation. "Um, I don''t think I''ve completely achieved that yet. He''s still shut tight, I" she said, her voice teasing.


    Pamela laughed, a rich, infectious sound. "Oh, I like her already. Come, come, you must tell me everything. Are you hungry? I have some pastries in the kitchen¡ª"


    "Mom," Darren interrupted, his tone firm but fond. "We''re fine. Give us a minute, yeah?"


    Pamela pouted playfully but relented, her eyes twinkling. She understood that her son needed his time with the girl. Pamela was going once so she got it.


    With a smile, she replied, "Fine, fine. I''ll leave you two lovebirds alone. But Penelope, you''re welcome here anytime." She winked, then glided out of the room, her laughter echoing down the hall. "I''m always lonely here. Would be nice to see another woman around here."


    Penelope smiled. "Thank you, Mrs Steele."


    When Pamela disappeared back up the stairs and it was them both left alone again, Penelope covered her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers at Darren. "Your mom is amazing. And she looks great! I''m happy she got better."


    Darren snorted, loosening his tie as he led her to the living room, where a plush gray sofa faced the city view. "Now she''s spending every energy she''s replenished on tormenting me. She''s a force of nature. Sorry about that."


    "Don''t be," Penelope said, settling onto the sofa, her dress fanning around her. "She''s sweet. And... it''s nice to know you have someone like her."


    Darren sat beside her, a careful distance between them, his arm draped over the back of the couch. "Yeah, she''s my rock," he admitted, his voice softer. "Always has been."


    Penelope tilted her head, studying him. The chandelier''s light caught the gold in her hair, making her look almost ethereal. "You don''t talk about your family much," she said gently. "Or... anything personal, really."


    He exhaled, his gaze drifting to the skyline. "Not much to tell. My dad died a few years ago. I have an uncle who''s pretty much forgotten about us. I have 2 cousins from him and... yeah. That''s pretty much it.


    She shifted closer, her knee brushing his, sending a quiet spark through him.

 Chapter 153: More Than a Kiss

    "Not much to tell. My dad died a few years ago. I have an uncle who''s pretty much forgotten about us. I have 2 cousins from him and... yeah. That''s pretty much it."


    Penelope shifted closer, her knee brushing his, sending a quiet spark through him. "I just have my dad. I mean, my mom is still alive but she was, well she is kinda a bad person. The things she did to my dad, I can''t ever forgive her for it," she added. "But my Dad and I are fine. We''re strong together. Always."


    Darren looked at her. "I''m sorry about your mom."


    She looked at him. "I''m sorry about your dad."


    He got up after they''d exchanged a long gaze and he picked a bowl, and scooped some popcorn from the one he''d just made before returning to her.


    "Would you like a tour of the house?" he asked her, throwing a piece in his mouth.


    Penelope looked at him. "I think I want you to tell me a story instead."


    He raised a brow at her. "A story?"


    She nodded once with enthusiasm.


    Darren continued to look at her, still admiring that life and light she had. Her eyes held no judgment, only a quiet invitation, and for the first time in years, he felt the urge to let someone in. To keep her with him forever. To truly make her his.


    "Alright," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you want to know?"


    Penelope smiled, grabbing the bowl of popcorn. "Tell me about college. Not the bad stuff. Something good."


    He leaned back, thinking. "There was this one professor," he began, "Dr. Hargrove. Old guy, tough as nails, but he was actually nice to me. He...


    Darren continued the story, letting her know about a teacher that Darren was yet to find after his graduation, Dr. Hargrove.


    The teacher who gave him a chance when no one else did. Used to stay up late, just talking about business, life... He was one of the few who made him believe he could be more than what everyone thought.


    But in the old timeline Darren had ended up amounting to nothing because of his relationship with Lily. And his stupidity.


    However, now, in this new timeline. Darren thought, should he go looking for Dr. Hargrove?


    Of course he didn''t tell Penelope all this part, it was only what he thought of as he told her the story.


    Penelope''s smile widened, and she rested her chin on her hand, listening intently. "That''s beautiful," she said. "He sounds like he was important to you."


    "Yeah," Darren said, his voice thick. "He was."


    She reached out, her fingers brushing his hand, a fleeting touch that felt like a lifeline. "Thank you," she said after swallowing. "For sharing that."


    "It''s no big deal. Figured I''ll give you a hand in unlocking the vault, eh?"


    They laughed. And as they did, their eyes locked again.


    The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken things. The living room lights faded from the sights and the world shrunk to just the two of them.


    Darren''s heart pounded, a rhythm he couldn''t ignore, and he realized he was staring ¡ª not at her face, but at the way her presence filled the empty spaces of his home, his life.


    Still, he had to ask.


    "Penny," he said, his voice rough, "why''d you want to come here tonight?"


    She blinked, her cheeks flushing, but she didn''t look away. "Because... I feel safe with you," she said, her voice trembling with honesty. "And happy. And I... I wanted to be closer to you. Not just the CEO or my friend who hangs in the park with me. You."


    Her words hit him like a wave, washing away the last of his defenses.


    The next thing he did, he did it without thinking at all.


    Darren reached out, his hand finding hers, their fingers intertwining. Her skin was warm, soft, and the simple act of holding her hand felt more intimate than anything he''d known.


    "Penny," he said again, softer, leaning closer. The space between them dissolved, their breaths mingling. "You''re... you''re too good for this world, you know that?"


    She laughed, a nervous, breathy sound, her eyes glistening. "I''m just me," she whispered. "But... you make me feel like I''m enough."


    His free hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin, and time seemed to pause.


    Her eyes fluttered shut, and he felt her lean into his touch.


    A silent permission.


    Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was tender, tentative, but laced with a depth of feeling that shook him to his core.


    The kiss was soft at first, a question, a promise. Then it deepened, her hands finding his shoulders, his fingers threading into her hair, the world falling away.


    It was more than just a kiss.


    It was a confession, a collision of two hearts that had been circling each other too long. Her warmth, her light, poured into him, and for the first time, Darren felt whole.


    When they parted, breathless, their foreheads rested together, her hands still clutching his shirt. "Mister," she whispered, her voice trembling with laughter and tears, "that was... amazing."


    He chuckled, the sound raw and real, his thumb tracing her jaw. "What are you doing to me, Penelope?" he murmured. "I''m not myself around you. Not at all."


    ---------


    "Ughh."


    She moaned softly as she felt his member rub gently against the lips of her insides.


    Darren, careful and gentle, looked at her. "It''s okay."


    Penelope only got more shy. She held the bedspread to her face. "Please be gentle, it''s my first time."


    Darren nodded, assuring her with his eyes. "I''ll be gentle, Penny. Don''t worry."


    (A/N):


    Was struck with some really bad news concerning my closest family member and I had a hard time uploading chapters today. I don''t know how tomorrow will be but if I''m unable to, I hope you all understand. In the meantime, don''t forget to always say ''I love you'' to those close to you, and make sure they''re living healthy!

 Chapter 154 154: Really Like You [R18]

    After the deep, passionate kissing that felt like it was gonna last forever, Darren and Penelope sat on the sofa, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the quiet.


    Her hands clung to his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as if anchoring herself to him, while his thumb traced slow, reverent circles along her jaw.


    Penelope''s eyes, glistening with a mix of laughter and unshed tears, met his. "Mister," she whispered, "what are we doing?"


    Darren''s chuckle was low, raw, a sound that vibrated through her. "I don''t know," he admitted, his voice husky, "but I don''t want to stop."


    Her lips curved into a shy, radiant smile, and she leaned in, brushing her nose against his. "Me neither," she murmured innocently, and the words were a spark, igniting something fierce and unspoken between them.


    Darren stared into her eyes, then gulped. She leaned in, knowing he wanted to and kissed him hard.


    Darren groaned in her lips, but it didn''t stop him from kissing her back, deeper this time, a slow burn that unraveled the last of his restraint.


    Her hands slid up his shoulders, fingers threading into his dark brown hair, tugging gently as she pressed herself closer. The warmth of her body, the soft curves beneath her sundress, sent a jolt through him, and he groaned softly against her lips.


    She responded with a quiet gasp, her breath hitching as his hands found her waist, pulling her onto his lap.


    The world narrowed to the heat of their touch, the rhythm of their breaths. Penelope''s dress rode up slightly, her thighs straddling his, and Darren''s hands roamed her back, reverent yet hungry, memorizing the shape of her.


    Then, she sent her palm on an adventure, rubbing him on his groin. Darren jerked slightly and looked at her, his face asking; "Are you sure?".


    She pulled back just enough to look at him. Even though her cheeks were flushed, her eyes blazed with certainty. "It''s okay," she said. "I really want this. I want you."


    Darren''s eyes quivered as he gazed at her. Those words shattered him.


    With a low growl, he captured her lips again, the kiss fierce and consuming. His hands slid beneath her dress, tracing the smooth skin of her thighs, and she shivered, arching into him.


    The sofa creaked beneath them as they moved together, a tangle of limbs and longing, each touch a confession of everything they''d held back.


    Darren stood, lifting her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist. She giggled as he kissed her neck, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice playful despite the tremor of desire.


    "My room," he murmured against her skin, carrying her through the mansion''s quiet halls. The chandelier''s prisms cast fleeting rainbows across their path, as if the house itself were blessing this moment.


    Once he got into his bedroom, he set her down gently, but the intensity in his eyes pinned her in place.


    She reached for him, tugging at his tie, her fingers fumbling with the knot. "You''re wearing too much, Mister," she teased, even though her innocent voice made it sound a little novice.


    He grinned hungrily, and helped her with the tie. He took the tie off and tore the shirt off his body.


    Penelope''s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest, the lean muscles and abs she''d glimpsed in the boutique now hers to touch.


    She traced his chest with her trembling fingers. "You''re... so," she tried to whisper, but the sincerity of what she was going to say made her voice fade off.


    "Penny," Darren called her.


    She looked up at him and he leaned down, kissing her softly, then with growing urgency, as her hands explored his chest, his back, pulling him closer.


    He eased her dress over her head, revealing the simple lace beneath, and his breath caught at the sight of her.


    Her breasts were big and plump, like it had been untouched by anyone else, her stomach was so flat he could eat on it, and her hips curved slightly, anchoring her slim, neat thighs.


    She was vulnerable, radiant, and she was his.


    They fell onto the bed, a tangle of whispers and touches.


    Darren''s lips mapped her skin, from the curve of her shoulder to the dip of her waist, each kiss a vow. She arched beneath him, her gasps filling the air, her hands clutching his shoulders as he worshipped her. "Darren," she breathed, the first time she''d used his name that night, and it was a spark to tinder, igniting him.


    Their movements became a dance, urgent yet tender, a symphony of shared breaths and quiet moans.


    He paused, his eyes locking with hers, seeking permission one last time. She nodded, her smile soft and trusting, and he slowly began to enter her.


    "Ughh."


    She moaned softly as she felt his member rub gently against the lips of her insides.


    Darren, careful and gentle, looked at her. "It''s okay."


    Penelope only got more shy. She held the bedspread to her face. "Please be gentle, it''s my first time."


    Darren nodded, assuring her with his eyes. "I''ll be gentle, Penny. Don''t worry."


    He was at her door, and gently, he let himself in, carefully breaking through the guard.


    Penny felt a brief sting of pain and squirmed, but Darren remained soft and gentle with her.


    He was reverent, and their bodies joined in that moment that felt like destiny. The room and everything else dissolved, leaving only the heat of their connection, the rhythm of their romance.


    Darren thrusted into her deep but gently, and each time his member entered inside her, Penelope let out the sweetest of moans as her nails dug into his back.


    When she urged him on or whispered, her voice was like a soft cry. In a rhythmic fashion, they moved together. It was almost like every thrust was a promise, and every kiss was a seal.


    The intensity built, a crescendo of emotion and sensation, until they shattered together, her name on his lips, his on hers.


    Darren had managed to pull out just at the last second, staring into her face as she stared into hers.


    He collapsed beside her, then she rolled over and hugged him.


    They clung to each other, the sounds of their heavy panting filling the air, their bodies trembling, and the aftershocks of their passion binding them closer.


    As they lay entwined in the silk sheets, the night''s light filtering through the curtains, Penelope laid her head against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "Mister," she murmured, her voice sleepy but content, "I... really like you."


    Darren allowed himself to smile, even though he really couldn''t control it, and he kissed her forehead, arm tightening around her. "Good for me then," he replied. "Because I really like you too."


    She smiled, her eyes fluttering shut, and Darren watched her drift to sleep.

 Chapter 155 155: Investing Without Darren

    The brisk Nevarro air bit at Amelia Forrest''s cheeks as she stepped out of the black town car, a leather portfolio clutched tight against her chest.


    Her heels clicked with purpose against the cracked sidewalk as she approached the low, sprawling warehouse ahead. From the outside, it looked like nothing special¡ª faded paint, dented shutters, and a single crooked security camera hanging from its rusted bracket.


    But Amelia knew better.


    Inside this humble husk was a hidden future worth hundreds of millions.


    Straightening her navy-blue blazer, she whispered under her breath: "You can do this, Amelia. You have to."


    She wasn''t just doing this for the deal¡ª she was doing it for Darren Steele. He trusted her with this. She couldn''t let him down.


    Nevarro was a state with many investment opportunities especially when it came to physical assets.


    After the 2008 financial crash, Nevarro was one of the hardest-hit states in America, especially cities like Los Vagas and surrounding regions.


    Property values collapsed dramatically between 2008 and 2010. Foreclosures skyrocketed.


    Amelia knew the records. For commercial real estate, things went really bad, really fast. Warehouses, empty lots, office buildings, and similar structures were being sold off for pennies on the dollar.


    There was also a massive undervaluation where many properties were far below their real potential because banks and owners were desperate to liquidate.


    So, In 2010, Nevarro was like a goldmine for anyone bold enough to buy physical assets ¡ª especially warehouses, lots, and commercial spaces ¡ª because prices were insanely low.


    Amelia understood this and she thought this was the simple reason Darren wanted her to lock down this investment.


    But she didn''t know about the system and Darren''s profitable investment ping. The long-term projections, as early as 2015, and as late as 2020 showed explosive recovery potential.


    Darren''s Flash Investment Ping detected this warehouse that was undervalued because no one except insiders ¡ª like him ¡ª knew about the rezoning initiatives tucked away in city council meetings.


    That mirrored exactly what real high-level investors do: buying strategic real estate while everyone else was scared.


    This was all Amelia thought was going on here, but... She knew nothing of the ''other'' aspect.


    Nevertheless, whether she knew this or not, it was Amelia''s duty to lock down this deal.


    The warehouse owner''s office was tucked at the far end of the location, behind a grimy door with a peeled-off "Manager" sticker.


    Activating her serious face, she knocked once.


    "Come in!" a gruff voice barked.


    Amelia entered, greeted by the warm stench of old coffee and the faint whiff of oil.


    Behind a battered wooden desk sat Mr. Brittle, a barrel-chested man with a salt-and-pepper mustache and weary brown eyes. His suspenders strained over his chest as he gestured for her to sit.


    "You the girl from Steele Investments?"


    "Yes, sir. My name is Amelia Forrest," she said, offering a crisp handshake. "Secretary of Investments."


    Brittle grunted, his handshake surprisingly firm. "Young. Pretty. Hope you''re tougher than you look."


    Amelia smiled lightly. "I wouldn''t have survived this long if I wasn''t."


    He chuckled, already liking her spirit. "That''s what I like to hear! Come on now, make yourself comfortable. It''s my favorite thing to talk about so let''s go ahead and do it! Let''s talk business!"


    "Alright."


    They sat.


    The next hour was a battle of numbers and wit.


    Amelia laid out the offer: $340,000 purchase, expedited escrow, complete confidentiality. She spoke confidently, her voice smooth yet firm, weaving through zoning codes, city plans, and market projections with a poise that belied her age.


    Brittle, however, was no fool.


    "Warehouse might be old," he said, tapping his pen against the desk, "but I know what this area''s worth. Heard rumblings. Rezoning. Redevelopment. This place''ll be a goldmine in a few years. Why would I sell now?"


    Amelia met his gaze evenly. She cursed at the back of head, realizing that the potential of this place was not as hidden as Darren thought.


    But, she couldn''t let that minor setback pull him down. So, she answered, "Because you want certainty today, Mr. Brittle, not promises tomorrow. You''re sitting on potential, yes, but also risk. Rezoning initiatives can stall. Budgets can fall apart. Politicians flip. One hiccup, and you''re holding a useless property while paying increasing taxes."


    He stroked his mustache, eyes narrowing. "Hmm. You make a really good point."


    "With us," Amelia continued, leaning in slightly, "you walk away with cash in days. No waiting, no gambling. Security now."


    Brittle leaned back, studying her. He picked up a baseball from his desk and began tossing it between his hands, a lazy gesture masking intense thought.


    "And what about my other buyers?" he asked slyly. "Heard there''s some interest."


    Amelia didn''t flinch. "If they haven''t given you a written offer yet, they''re playing games. My boss isn''t interested in games, Mr. Brittle. Only results."


    He grinned crookedly. "You talk a big game, Miss Forrest."


    "I back it up," she said without missing a beat.


    For a few moments, the only sound was the ticking of a dusty clock on the wall.


    Finally, Brittle leaned forward. "Alright. I like you. And I like the speed you''re offering. But full disclosure: you''re really not the only one. I wasn''t joking when I said that I heard rumors about the potential of this place."


    Amelia narrowed her eyes. She had thought it was just a tactic to get her to put in more money. Was he really serious about outside interests?


    Brittle continued. "Another investment company sent someone to inquire earlier this morning. They''ll be coming back today."


    Amelia smiled coolly, even as a sliver of tension coiled inside her. "Competition is healthy. I''m confident Steele Investments is the right choice."


    Mr. Brittle chuckled, his gravelly voice filling the room. "That''s the spirit. I''ll hear you both out. Best deal wins."


    There was a knock at the door.


    Leonard smirked. "That must be them now."


    The door swung open with a metallic groan, and in stepped a tall, sharply dressed figure whose presence immediately dominated the room.


    Ryan Anders.


    His obsidian-black hair was slicked neatly back, and his tailored gray suit clung to him like armor. Those same predator-like dark eyes gleamed with a mocking amusement the moment they fell upon Amelia.


    He offered a dazzling, insincere smile. "Hello, Amelia."


    Amelia''s heart dropped straight to her stomach.

 Chapter 156: War Over Asset!

    The tension in Brittle''s cluttered office was thick enough to taste.


    For a moment, Amelia was shell shocked, dumbfounded, not certain why fate and coincidences happened in this way.


    Ryan Anders was the last person she wanted to see now or any other time and yet here he was, flashing that cunning smile of his and rolling those lanky shoulders.


    She began to wish that Darren was here with her.


    But... another thought came.


    Wouldn''t this be the true test of her skill and growth as an assistant investor? If she could hold herself in the presence of this man and defeat him in the battle for an asset, that would prove a lot wouldn''t it?


    Yes, it would!


    There was nothing to be afraid of.


    ''You could do it, Amy. You can.''


    With that beat of enthusiasm, she straightened her blazer, feeling the coiled spring inside her tighten. She took a deep breath and kept her gaze cold to prove that he didn''t affect her.


    Ryan Anders leaned lazily against the wall across from her, arms folded, exuding smugness from every pore of his cunning skin.


    Mr. Brittle sat at his desk, leaning back in his creaky leather chair, lacing his thick fingers together across his stomach. He looked from one to the other like a referee before a boxing match.


    "Well then," Brittle said with a grin. "You both want my property. Prove to me why I should sell to either of you."


    The room seemed to shrink around Amelia. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to breathe steady.


    Ryan''s lips twitched into a smirk. "Ladies first," he said mockingly.


    Amelia squared her shoulders. "Steele Investments offers immediate liquidity," she began crisply. "We will complete escrow within seventy-two hours, no legal entanglements, no drawn-out negotiations. We guarantee full confidentiality, protecting you from speculative backlash that might drive your remaining assets into attention."


    Brittle nodded thoughtfully, tapping his desk.


    Ryan pushed off the wall. His voice, smooth as silk, slid into the room. "Not bad, Amelia, not bad. But unfortunately for you, the youth of your company is going to be your problem."


    He looked at Brittle. "You see, Mr. Brittle, Moon Wealth Management, on behalf of our client, Sinclair Group, offers a slightly longer escrow, yes ¡ª two weeks ¡ª but we bring enhanced legitimacy. Our client''s brand is associated with stability. Selling to them can raise the reputation value of your remaining holdings in Nevarro. Makes it easier for you to offload your other properties at a better price."


    "That is enticing."


    Amelia didn''t miss a beat. "Stability''s only useful if the seller cares about prestige. Unless I''ve horribly failed in my assessment of Mr. Brittle here, what he wants is cash. And he wants it now. We offer certainty today, not a vague benefit that might or might not materialize."


    "Your assessment was spot on, Miss Forrest."


    Ryan chuckled softly, as if amused by a child''s cleverness. "Amy, Amy. You underestimate the value of association in property markets. When developers see Sinclair Group''s touch on a portfolio, their perception shifts ¡ª overnight. Mr. Brittle could sell his remaining lots for twenty percent higher next quarter if he plays it smart."


    "Hmm. That is true, you know."


    Amelia''s jaw clenched. She had to keep the pressure up.


    "You talk about next quarter, Mr. Anders," she said smoothly. "But the rezoning documents don''t guarantee a timeline. It could stall. There''s risk in waiting. Mr. Brittle walks away with less if plans delay¡ª and he''s left paying rising property taxes in the meantime. Our offer protects him now."


    The two locked gazes across the room, the temperature spiking.


    Brittle looked positively delighted. He gestured with his pen. "Hah! Hah! I thoroughly enjoyed that! Good arguments. Both of you. Not very often an old man like me has wealthy people fighting for him."


    Ryan lifted his chin. "My client is willing to pay $360,000, slightly above current appraised value."


    Amelia narrowed her eyes but smiled coolly. "We can match that," she said smoothly, though inside her mind spun furiously, calculating numbers Darren had authorized.


    "And," she continued, "we offer a post-sale advisory package. Free. We''ll help you discreetly place your other assets into safer vehicles, no extra charge."


    Brittle''s brows lifted, clearly impressed. "I like that."


    Ryan arched an eyebrow. "Advisory services?" he repeated, amusement dripping from his voice. "From a two-month-old firm?"


    The jab stung more than Amelia let show.


    He leaned forward slightly. "Moon Wealth Management can offer Mr. Brittle direct connections to major industrial developers through our existing network. Not just placement¡ª partnerships. Licensing opportunities."


    Amelia hesitated.


    Ryan caught it, his dark eyes flashing triumph. "You see, Brittle," he said lazily, "Miss Forrest''s offer sounds good, but it''s narrow. It''s a quick transaction, sure. But the future? It''s thin. Short-term cash, yes, but don''t you see? There''s no leverage at all."


    Amelia opened her mouth, froze and in the end, no words came. Her mind whirled.


    Brittle turned to her. "Anything to say to that, Miss Forrest?"


    Amelia swallowed hard, her cheeks burning.


    She had made an error.


    Throughout this, she was not only fighting to get this done for Darren and impress him, she had been fighting to prove to Ryan Anders that she can take him down in this deal.


    To prove the student was better than the evil mentor.


    But her enthusiasm led to her making a mistake that Ryan capitalized on and gave the counter reason that had now left her dumbfounded.


    She tried to summon something ¡ª anything ¡ª but her brain stalled.


    She was going to lose. And Darren? He won''t be pleased by that.


    "...May I be excused for a moment?" she asked, her voice tight but polite.


    Brittle waved casually. "Sure. I''ll be here."


    Without looking at Ryan, Amelia turned and slipped out the door into a smaller adjoining room ¡ª a break room, grimy and dim but blessedly empty.


    She closed the door behind her, pressing her back against it.


    "Idiot," she whispered, pressing the leather portfolio tight against her chest. "You let him corner you."


    Her hands trembled slightly. She fought to steady herself, pacing in small circles.


    Think, Amelia. Think.


    She ran through numbers, projections, thinking about what Darren would do. He would find an angle they missed. He would never have let someone like Ryan Anders outmaneuver him.


    She sat at a battered metal table, flipping through her notes, skimming rezoning reports, market forecasts, council minutes.


    "There''s gotta be something," she muttered, chewing her lower lip.


    A slow, almost lazy knock rapped against the door. Before she could answer, it opened.


    Ryan Anders stepped inside.


    Amelia shot to her feet, heart pounding anew.


    The smug man leaned casually against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, that damn smirk still on his lips.


    "No need to look so startled," he drawled. "I''m not here to bite."


    Amelia''s fists clenched. "Get out."


    He chuckled. "Amelia, Amelia..." He took a few slow steps into the room, his presence suffocating. "I''m not even mad you left me, you know. How could I be? Little girls get scared sometimes. They want to spread their wings. It''s adorable, really. I know you''re going to come back. Because you are coming back, right?"


    He stared into her eyes. "Right?"


    Amelia''s nails dug into the folder. "I''m not coming back, Ryan. I''m with Darren now. Steele Investments. I''m never going back to you."


    That wiped the smirk right off his face for a half-second.


    He recovered quickly, his smile twisting into something darker. "You want this asset so badly, don''t you?" he said, his voice dropping low. "You want to impress your new master?"


    Amelia stiffened.


    Ryan stalked closer, circling her like a wolf around prey. "I could give it to you," he murmured. "Just a few sweet words to my client. Tell him it was sold already. Easy. Darren would think you were brilliant."


    He reached out ¡ª slowly, deliberately ¡ª and placed a hand on her waist.


    "All you have to do," he whispered, leaning close, "is show me you''ve finally learnt how to say please."


    A shudder ran through Amelia''s spine, and in response, her hand moved before she thought.


    SMACK!


    Ryan''s head snapped to the side.


    The room froze.


    Amelia''s chest heaved, adrenaline surging, horror and pride battling within her. She couldn''t believe she had just slapped him.


    Not like she wasn''t in her rights to do it.


    Ryan''s expression shifted from stunned to furious in the blink of an eye. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist hard enough to hurt. His face twisted with rage.


    "Ahhhhhhhh!"


    "You little¡ª"


    The door slammed open with a bang, and Brittle rushed into the room.


    "What the hell are you doing?!"


    They both snapped their heads at the door.

 Chapter 157 157: Prove Yourself, Amelia

    Nobody moved.


    Ryan still had his hand on Amelia''s wrist, Brittle was holding the handle of the damaged door in his hand, and the loud panting of the scared woman became the room''s very own heartbeat.


    For that blistering second, the entire room hung frozen.


    Mr. Brittle''s eyes, sharp as a hawk''s, locked onto Ryan Anders'' hand still gripping Amelia''s wrist.


    Slowly, dangerously, the older man''s face twisted into disgust.


    "You let her go," Brittle said, his voice low and carrying the force of a sledgehammer.


    Ryan wasn''t an idiot. He knew doing anything but what Brittle had just told him to do would only escalate the issue.


    So, he released Amelia at once, stepping back a pace, straightening his tie and smoothing his suit like the confrontation had been some minor inconvenience.


    Amelia half expected him to see something, but unlike Ryan''s usual self, he was silent, seemingly defeated in the way he moved.


    He avoided eye contact with her and Mr. Brittle, but didn''t act guilty. He just kept the demeanor of a man who had slipped and was pretending like the shame of it didn''t bother him.


    But Brittle wasn''t done.


    "You got some nerve, boy," the old warehouse owner growled, moving from the door with the stiff dignity of a war veteran. "I don''t care how many big-shot companies you work for or how shiny that suit is. You''re a damn disgrace."


    At this point, Ryan''s own pride was tested and he opened his mouth to retort, but he changed his mind, tilted his head and started to leave.


    But the steel in Brittle''s glare stopped him cold.


    "I''m ashamed. Ashamed that someone like you came through my door. And ashamed for the poor folks that trusted you to represent them," Brittle spat.


    Ryan clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. But he said nothing, still knowing better than to throw gasoline on a fire this wild.


    "There ain''t no way," Brittle continued, voice rising, "no damn way I''m doing business with a perverted sicko like you! Get your ass outta my building before I call security and have you dragged."


    Ryan inhaled sharply through his nose, anger simmering under his polished exterior.


    But he still didn''t argue.


    Adjusting his jacket with a slow, furious precision, he shot Amelia a venomous glance and turned on his heel.


    He left the room without another word, his footsteps echoing across the concrete floor as he disappeared into the Nevarro sunlight.


    The door slammed shut behind him.


    The silence that followed was long, heavy, broken only by Brittle''s ragged breathing as he wrestled down his anger.


    He turned to Amelia.


    "You alright, sweetheart?" he asked, softer now.


    Amelia steadied herself. She pulled her skirt down and adjusted her blazer, clutching her folder tight to her chest after.


    "Y-Yes, sir," she said, voice firm despite the tremor in her heart.


    He nodded, his expression still carved in stone. "Good. Don''t you worry. I wasn''t gonna pick that slimeball anyway. Ain''t never liked them Moon Wealth rich boys. Thinking'' they run the whole country just ''cause they can buy it."


    He snorted, spitting to the side in pure contempt. "They already got Calivernia wrapped around their dollar bill. I''m not gonna let them sink their claws into good old Nevarro."


    Amelia''s heart warmed slightly at his gruff loyalty, but she shook her head quickly. "Thank you, sir... but please don''t choose me just because you feel bad. I don''t want pity."


    "Oh. So you''re one of those dignified soldiers?"


    She squared her shoulders, feeling Darren''s expectation heavy on her back.


    "I still have my full argument against Ryan''s last point," she said. "If you''ll let me."


    Brittle''s stern face cracked into a small, approving grin.


    "Now that''s the spirit," he said, lowering himself back into his chair. "Let''s hear it."


    Amelia took a breath. ''Darren sent me to win an asset for him. I can''t return to the Complex with a victory that I earned from being a victim. I have to defeat Ryan''s point and sell our deal.''


    Then, she spoke;


    "When Mr. Anders said his client could connect you to developers for licensing opportunities, it sounded good¡ª but it''s not guaranteed. Developers are sharks. They move fast, but only when it''s profitable for them¡ª not for the seller. If the land doesn''t appreciate fast enough, you''re left holding a licensing contract that''s legally binding and hard to exit."


    Brittle leaned forward, intrigued.


    "Our proposal," Amelia continued, "focuses on finality. You sell now. You walk away clean. No residual ties. No hidden clauses. Full value, full control of your future assets without being anyone''s leverage point."


    She ended firmly, locking eyes with him. "That is my pitch, sir. That is the pitch of my boss, Mr. Darren Steele."


    Brittle took a seat, rubbing his chin and smiling wider now. "Aren''t you a determined little firecracker," he muttered proudly.


    He reached into his drawer, pulled out a thick folder, and dropped it onto the desk with a satisfying thump.


    "Alright then," he said. "Let''s sign some damn paperwork."


    Amelia''s heart skipped.


    Her hand moved fast, pulling out Steele Investments'' prepared contract package ¡ª Darren had drilled it into her: always have a draft ready.


    They spent the next twenty minutes hammering out final clauses:


    Confirming a seventy-two-hour escrow.


    Ensuring full confidentiality from Brittle''s side.


    Wiring instructions prepared for the full $360,000.


    Pens scratched paper. Pages flipped.


    Brittle signed with a heavy hand, nodding with satisfaction after each signature.


    Amelia''s own hand trembled slightly as she penned her signature ¡ª Amelia Forrest, Secretary of Investments, Steele Investments.


    When the last page was signed, Brittle clapped the folder shut with a grin.


    "There," he said, extending his massive hand. "Done deal. You tell your boss he''s got himself a damn good one."


    Amelia shook his hand firmly, her chest bursting with pride.


    "Thank you, Mr. Brittle," she said, bowing slightly in respect. "You won''t regret it."


    "I know I won''t," he chuckled. "You''re a damn sight better than that rat that came before you. Now go catch your flight, young lady. I''ll tell my security to follow you till you get to the airport."


    Her eyes widened. "Oh, no. You don''t have to do that, sir."


    "Of course I do. Mugs like that Anders guy don''t like being caught and ridiculed. I need to make sure you''re safe. Besides, you''ve got someone waiting for your good news."


    Amelia nodded, her eyes gleaming as she quickly packed up the documents. "Thank you!"


    Outside, the Nevarro afternoon sun blazed against the cracked parking lot. She shielded her eyes and hurried into the waiting town car.


    Inside, she clutched the signed contract against her chest and finally let a huge, relieved smile break across her face.


    Mission accomplished.

 Chapter 158 158: Reunion Preparation

    It was late at noon. The sun was turning dull orange, the clouds were leaving the sky.


    Ember rays spilled into the large, polished living room of the Steele residence, casting a bright gleam across the marble floors.


    Darren stood by the wall-length mirror near the stairs, buttoning the cuff of his dark blue shirt while trying ¡ª and failing ¡ª to fend off the fussing hands of his mother.


    "Stop moving," she scolded lightly, her small but determined hands batting away his halfhearted attempts to wave her off.


    "I can dress myself, Mom," Darren grumbled under his breath, tugging slightly at his sleeve.


    "Yes, and you''d walk into a reunion looking like you just crawled out of an investment war zone," she quipped, expertly smoothing the shoulders of his shirt. "You men. You need someone to keep you looking civilized."


    Darren raised a brow. "Civilized? Mum, what are you on about now?"


    She peeked at him and hissed. "Do you think I''ll ever believe that you picked this fine suit all on your own?"


    Darren made a face. "Mom! I''ll have you know that I have an excellent taste in fashion."


    "If that''s what you think, then fine." She pursed her lips.


    "Hold on! Hold on! You don''t think it''s true?"


    "Dare, I''m only saying that I know when a woman picks a suit for a man. And I know when a man picks one for himself."


    She looked at him. "You..." Then she tapped the suit. "... didn''t pick this shit by yourself."


    Darren chuckled. "Alright, fine. It''s fine, Mrs Sherla Holmes."


    She poked his side sharply, making him jolt.


    They both laughed for a good while.


    "I''m just saying Darren, I think it''s time you thought more about someone younger doing the job," she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Maybe that sweet little blonde girl who keeps bringing you homemade lunches lately."


    Darren rolled his eyes. "You''re acting like you don''t know her name."


    "Penny! Okay, Penny! She''s the right girl for the job, don''t you think?"


    Darren sighed. "Mum, Penelope''s just... helping out. She''s a friend."


    "A friend who blushes every time you look at her," his mother sing-songed, stepping back and crossing her arms triumphantly. "You''re not fooling anyone, Darren. You should think about it, you know. Settle down. Start a family. I want grandbabies while I still have the knees to run after them."


    He sighed dramatically but smiled. "You''re worse than company board members when they''re trying to pressure me into a deal."


    She smiled fondly, patting his cheek once. "Good. Maybe I''ll succeed where they won''t."


    Before he could respond, the sharp roar of an engine echoed outside.


    Both of them turned toward the sound.


    A minute later, the doorbell rang.


    Darren''s brows arched slightly. "That must be it."


    He crossed the living room and opened the door.


    Parked at the curb was a 2010 Lamborghini Reventon¡ª deep black-silver, polished like glass, crouched low and deadly like a predator ready to pounce.


    Standing beside it, dressed in slim white jeans and a tailored red leather jacket, was Lana Marchesi, the saleswoman from Monarch Motors who had sold him the Aston Martin.


    Her platinum hair was tied into a sharp ponytail, and her heels clicked against the stone steps as she sauntered up, holding a clipboard and a single black key fob.


    Darren took a good look at the car. "This the one Rachel chose?"


    "Yes, Mr. Steele," she said, her voice velvety smooth. "Your secretary was very articulate and direct with the product she wanted. The Lamborghini Reventon with a new, F-22 Raptor-inspired body."


    She walked around the face of the vehicle. "It was produced between 2007 and 2008. The Revento?n''s name honors a bull that killed a famous bullfighter in 1943. It packs a 6.5-liter V12 engine producing 650 hp, channeled to all four wheels via a 6-speed e-gear transmission."


    She touched its hood. "It features carbon fiber bodywork, and that allows it to hit 60 mph in about 3.4 seconds and reach a top speed of around 211 mph. You''re going to love this car, Mr. Steele."


    Darren smirked. "Am I?"


    He stepped into the outside, walking closer to the car while admiring its features as Lana and Pamela watched. "Has it been prepped?"


    She handed him the key fob with a little more flair than necessary. "Prepped, perfumed, fueled, and polished by the gods themselves. She''s ready for her big night out."


    Darren twirled the key fob once between his fingers, inspecting it with mild amusement.


    Then he got into the vehicle. He stabbed the key into the hole and twisted. The car sang to the ignition, causing Darren to grin with greed.


    Lana leaned in slightly, her perfume ¡ª rich and subtle ¡ª brushing his senses.


    "You know..." she said coyly, "I wouldn''t mind hitching a ride. See how she handles at full speed."


    She gave him a sideways look, biting her lower lip just enough for it to be noticeable.


    Darren smiled politely, adjusting his cuffs again. "You see that woman over there?"


    Lana looked over the roof of the car at Pamela who watched from the near distance.


    "That''s my mom," he continued. "Don''t you think it''s disrespectful to ask to be the first woman I share this car with when my mother''s right there?"


    Her face flushed with alarm. "Oh no¡ª Mr. Steele. I really didn''t mean to offend, I only thought¡ª"


    "The truck''s waiting for you out there, isn''t it? Best to get going before you keep them waiting."


    Her lips parted slightly, but she quickly shut her mouth and nodded her head.


    "You''re right! I''ll take my leave immediately! Thank you for once again patronizing Monarch Motors! We hope to see you again, Mr. Steele."


    He gave her a noncommittal nod, watching her turn on her heel and stride back toward the truck parked down the street. "Sure you do."


    The doors closed, and a moment later, the transport vehicle rumbled away.


    Darren sat there for a second, feeling the smooth body of the car''s steering wheel.


    The Lambo''s engine growled hungrily, daring him to push it to its limits.


    Pamela appeared by the window to his right, chuckling knowingly.


    "Something tells me that that''s not the only heart you''re going to break tonight," she said.


    Darren squeezed his lips and nodded his head. "Mom..."


    "Just don''t mess around with any woman and come back home, okay? Penny will be waiting for you."


    "That''s it! Goodbye, mother!"


    She laughed herself to stupor as Darren reversed the car and sped out of his own home like he had just robbed a bank.

 Chapter 159: College Reunion (1)

    In life and in the state of Calivernia itself, one thing that was ever present was competition.


    The struggle for victory. And what defined victory?


    Claiming power.


    What defined power?


    Money. Status. Property.


    Everyone was measured based on these three metrics: What you are worth. Who you are. And What you own.


    It was the same in Calivernia. Maybe even more profound.


    Multiple businesses and companies clashed in this state, fighting to be the top when measured by these metrics. This was why being an Empire Company was such a big deal, a respected accomplishment that gave status.


    Because of this competition, Calivernia became the bedrock of the corporate world and of high end businesses.


    In fact, one of the most powerful in the entire United States hailed from the big C.


    Moon Enterprises.


    For other names, Morrison''s?, The Bordeaux Corporation, Golden Hay Empire, Horizon Strategies, Sinclair Group, Zurich Group, Dawn Group, The Nelson Foundation, Sagomoto Offices, PenWealth, Franchise Hotels & Casinos, and many many more.


    They all reigned supreme all over the country and they competed in Calivernia.


    Now, the families and owners of these companies didn''t have any intention of letting their companies die off, fade into the ether and be forgotten.


    So, they entrusted their children with it. They sent their children to business schools with the hope that one day, they could take over what they have built and even take the companies to better heights.


    That was why there was so much competition, rivalry and gloating in Brookfield University of Business and Literature.


    As the top business university in CA, many children of these powerful people schooled there and were forced to meet and socialize with children of their parents'' rivals.


    They did it, of course, with smiles on their faces. But they knew that one day, after they graduated, those smiles would be gone and there would no longer be any such things as friends.


    It had been a while since the graduation. And it was clear to mostly everyone that this reunion was a chance for them to scope each other out, see who was successful, and who wasn''t.


    It was a big deal.


    One of the Golden Hay Hotels was the location for the event. The building gleamed like a jewel under the evening sky, its grand facade glowing in golden hues that bathed the long line of luxury vehicles pulling into the entrance.


    When Darren Steele''s lambo rolled into the front driveway, the valets nearly forgot their training for a moment. Eyes widened, whispers flitted through the evening air.


    "That''s... that''s a Revento?n right?" one valet murmured.


    "Holy hell... That costs like two million..."


    "And they''re limited!"


    Ignoring the attention, Darren slid out of the driver''s seat with casual precision.


    He adjusted Penelope''s hand picked suit, and when he saw his reflection on a glass door, he had to agree with his mother about Penny''s taste in suits.


    As he handed the valet his keys, the man stumbled over his words.


    "W-Welcome to Golden Hay, sir."


    Darren gave a polite nod and moved on, letting the murmurs follow him into the lobby.


    Inside, the ballroom was already buzzing, though the reunion had only just begun.


    Waiters in crisp uniforms passed around glasses of champagne. Guests milled around in small groups, exchanging half-hearted greetings and sizing each other up ¡ª old college instincts of social sorting never truly died.


    Darren''s steps were steady, unhurried. His presence was starting to draw eyes. Some faces turned toward him with faint recognition but hesitated, unsure if it was really him.


    He noticed it but paid no mind.


    The first familiar face he consciously acknowledged was Alison Parker.


    She was standing near one of the towering floral arrangements, a glass of wine cradled nervously in her hands. She wore a sparkling navy dress that was so stunning.


    It had silver crystals on its color and sleeves that reflected the light, almost blinding Darren when he looked at them.


    Darren wondered if she had spent the entire 200 thousand on that dress. He wouldn''t be surprised if she had.


    Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat, professional bun, with a silver rose bolting it tight.


    However, despite how stunning she looked, there was an anxious stiffness in her shoulders that Darren quickly noticed.


    He made his way over.


    Alison spotted him at the last moment, her eyes widening before she quickly smoothed her expression into something between a smile and a grimace.


    "Darren... wow," she breathed, staring at his clothing ¡ª his body ¡ª and then looking up at him. "You''re... you''re early too?"


    "Guess I am," Darren said, his voice low and even.


    They stood there for a second ¡ª two former classmates, now strangers threading through the awkwardness.


    "You look... different," Alison offered, trying for small talk. "I know I''ve said that before but you just seem to look better and better each time I see you."


    Darren sunk a hand in his pocket. "Thank you, and... you also look good."


    Alison laughed nervously and shifted her drink from one hand to the other. "Ha! Ha! Th¡ª Thank you, Darren. And hey, I heard some things about Steele Investments. You''re doing good."


    "Getting by," he said simply.


    "There you go again. Trying to make a small deal out of a big one," she chuckled. "You''re really so different now, Darren Steele."


    A waiter passed, and Darren grabbed a glass of champagne, taking a slow sip. "Thank you, again. And how are you doing?"


    "Mhm?" she opened her eyes wide like she hadn''t expected the question, then she nodded her head. "I''m okay. Everything''s... okay."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure? Alison if you''re having issues with hi¡ª"


    Before he could finish his speech, he heard some noise. More people had started entering the party hall.


    Darren moved his head slightly, observing.


    Already, old cliques were reforming in subtle ways ¡ª little circles of former classmates clustering together, animated and loud, others lingering uncertainly on the fringes.


    An overweight former football captain was loudly recounting his "biggest deals" since college. Two women Darren vaguely remembered from accounting classes clutched each other and pointed at people''s jewelry, whispering judgments.


    It was just like back then.


    Except now, the currency wasn''t popularity.


    It was money. Status. Real power.


    Darren''s gaze swept across the room and at that moment, the heavy doors to the ballroom stage swung open.


    Heads turned instinctively.


    They could all hear the deep purr of an engine outside, then a beautiful white Audi R8 drove into the stage!


    The unmistakable strut of Tyler Mooney had entered the hall.


    The car stopped at the stage and Tyler burst out the door with cheers from everyone present and hands in the sky.


    He wore a glinting blue suit that was trying too hard to say, "I''m rich and important." His watch flashed gold every time he adjusted his cuff. His smug smile stretched wide as his entourage followed him, laughing too loud at jokes not yet told.


    "How are you all doing, mother fuckers!"


    Darren''s heart stopped beating for a while, and everyone suddenly moved in slow motion.


    Tyler Mooney.


    He hadn''t seen this sucker''s face ever since his death. And now, here was, flaunting his car and his watch on a stage.


    Darren swore that if he had a gun right now he would¡ª


    He snapped out of those thoughts and his attention shifted... Then time tightened again.


    What were the chances?


    Lily Smithers had just entered the party.


    Perfect timing.


    She moved quietly compared to the others, no entourage, no fanfare. Just the soft tap of her black stilettos against the marble floor.


    Her dress was ¡ª even though Darren did not want to say ¡ª stunning. It was a sleek black gown that hugged her figure without being vulgar. Her blonde hair swept gracefully over one shoulder, exposing the delicate line of her neck. Her posture was perfect: poised, distant, untouchable.


    For a heartbeat, their eyes met across the room.


    Lily''s lips parted slightly, an unconscious breath escaping her.


    Then ¡ª she looked away quickly, pretending she hadn''t seen him at all, vanishing into the crowd.


    Darren set his jaw. His fingers tightened minutely around the champagne glass.


    So she came after all.


    A soft laugh by the corner distracted him.


    Darren noticed a few former classmates gossiping, their gazes darting toward Lily''s disappearing figure.


    "Is she still dating someone?" one whispered.


    "Who would want to date her now?" another murmured. "Her father''s business crumbled."


    "God, the drama. I heard it was her own boyfriend that ruined her father''s company."


    Darren raised a brow. Then, he felt a soft palm on his hand. Allison''s.


    "Don''t listen to them, gossiping is all they are good for."


    Darren looked at her and then her palm on his hand. "Thanks."


    She smiled once. It was an almost sad smile. "Alright now. I have to go. Catch you later."


    "Alright."


    He watched her leave with a thought in his mind. There was definitely something going on with her.

 Chapter 160: College Reunion (2)

    The Golden Hay ballroom was slowly becoming more and more alive. People greeted each other, laughing at memories as they sipped wine.


    Darren could hear arguing and playful banter. But the energy suddenly shifted when a loud voice thundered through the air.


    "How dare you come here!"


    The loud, angry yell cut through the music and laughter, and followed with it was the unmistakable sound of continuous raised voices.


    Darren, standing near the drinks table and chatting with Sophie McClain, caught the disturbance immediately.


    Their heads, just like every other head in the ballroom, turned across the polished floor, the sea of glittering dresses and sharp suits parting slightly to reveal the scene.


    Near the side hallway, where the private dining sections branched off, Terry Wilson and Tyler Mooney were locked in a heated argument.


    "You shouldn''t have shown your goddamn face here!" Tyler barked, loud enough to silence a quarter of the room. His face was twisted in rage, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.


    Terry, looking smaller and more frail than Darren remembered from the dinner get together, raised his palms in weak defense. "Ty¡ª come on, man¡ª just hear me out¡ª"


    "No! You don''t get to talk!" Tyler jabbed a finger in his chest, shoving him lightly. "You humiliated me in front of that psycho, Ryan Anders! You stole from my father''s company! You son of a bitch, do you know how much shit I had to clean up because of you?!"


    Murmurs broke out around the room.


    A few former classmates who knew the backstory whispered it to others: how Terry, desperate and drowning in debts, had siphoned off money from a side fund while working at Moon Enterprises.


    How Tyler had vouched for him during hiring, helping to create Wilson''s Logistics, the contracting subsidiary that was what ended up helping Terry steal from it.


    They also whispered about how Tyler had taken massive heat when the scandal surfaced. His father had almost demoted him from his position at the company.


    Darren, the unknown catalyst of this situation, watched it all unfold with an unbothered expression.


    "Do you know the amount of explaining I had to give to my father?!" Tyler roared. "Do you?! And you dare show your face here?! You haven''t even brought my money!"


    Terry''s face flushed red with shame. He glanced around the room, as if searching for an escape, only to meet cold, judgmental stares.


    "Tyler, please," Terry begged, his voice cracking. "It was a mistake. A stupid mistake. I was drowning¡ª I had nowhere else to go¡ª I''m sorry, okay? I swear I''m sorry."


    The desperation in his voice only seemed to fuel Tyler''s anger.


    "You think ''sorry'' fixes it?" Tyler sneered, leaning in so close Terry flinched. "You think you can waltz into the reunion and pretend like nothing happened?"


    "I just wanted to make amends, man¡ª" Terry''s voice broke off.


    "Security!" Tyler snapped over his shoulder.


    One of the hotel''s staff, a burly man in a black suit, began making his way through the crowd.


    "You heard me," Tyler said, his voice dripping with mock pity. "Get the hell out, Terry. Before you embarrass yourself even more."


    Terry''s shoulders sagged. "Come on, man. I have as much right to be here as you."


    Tyler''s eyes flashed red. "What did you just say?"


    Terry''s lips trembled, and he knew then it would be wise to say nothing more. He saw the security guard approaching, so he quickly turned and slunk toward the exit, his figure shrinking with every step.


    The doors swung shut behind him, and the ballroom seemed to collectively exhale.


    Some guests turned away, pretending not to have seen. Others smirked or whispered behind glasses of champagne.


    The atmosphere was thick with the kind of uncomfortable cruelty that clings to high society gatherings ¡ª people enjoyed the spectacle but didn''t want to be seen enjoying it.


    Darren watched it all impassively.


    "Some things never changed," Sophie McClain said to him.


    He looked at her. "That''s exactly what I was thinking."


    Sophie scanned his face and smiled. "So everything you said about him in the get together... you were right."


    Darren pursed his lips. "Terry is a predictable person. In fact many people are. Just like numbers. Once you get the pattern, you''re certain the numbers will follow it. Patterns are like characters, and Terry will always continue to act according to his character."


    Sophie couldn''t take away her smile. "Have you always been this smart, Darren?"


    He shrugged. "I have no idea how to answer that question."


    She gazed at him for a moment, then asked. "Do you want to dance?"


    Darren froze, staring at her. Then he turned around to leave. "I think I''m good."


    Tyler, still basking in the attention, brushed his jacket and sauntered back into the crowd, looking for new admirers.


    Darren walked past him and he paused, turned around to see Darren''s retreating figure but not his face.


    With a grunt, he ignored it and continued to one of the groups of female admirers, waiting for him.


    Darren got to the bar and asked for some whiskey. As he drank, another presence entered the party.


    Charles Nelson.


    Charles had schooled in Harvard not BUBL, but he had many friends and connections in the school and this graduating class, and so had been invited.


    Where Tyler''s entrance had been loud and brash, Charles'' was dignified and confident.


    He wore a perfectly tailored steel-gray suit, his blond hair swept neatly back, and he walked with an easy, grounded authority that turned heads without needing to demand it.


    No flashy entourage followed him. No car screech. No declarations.


    Just presence.


    A few people rushed to greet him, recognizing his status from the Nelson family name and their Foundation ¡ª One that was high even among the elite circles.


    Charles returned a few polite nods but didn''t linger. His gaze swept across the room until it landed on Darren who was by the bar, drinking alone.


    He smiled and made his way over, ignoring Tyler, who barely even noticed he had arrived.


    "Drinking alone?" Charles said playfully, his voice soaked in husk as he sat beside him.


    Darren looked to his left. "Mr. Charles."


    "Darren Steele," The young Nelson replied, extending a hand.


    Darren clasped it firmly. "I didn''t expect you here."


    "Got roped into it by a certain someone," Charles said dryly, flicking his gaze toward Tyler. "But when I realized you would be coming, I figured the night wouldn''t be a complete waste."


    Darren chuckled lightly. "Glad to hear I''m good for something."


    Charles ordered whiskey, the same brand, and sat down beside him.


    "You made an impression during the Corporate Conquest game. Do you still remember."


    Darren chuckled. "I do. Sorry I had to leave immediately after."


    Charles smiled. "That''s what you''re sorry for. Not for leaving with my money."


    "Nope. Not sorry for that one bit."


    They both laughed. Then sipped their drinks right after.


    Charles leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so that it carried only to Darren. "I won''t waste your time. I know you''re not the same as many people here. You appear disconnected from their parade. You act older. And you also didn''t need your parents'' money to build something for yourself. And what you''ve built is impressive. The very."


    Darren listened, cautious but open. "Starting off with flattery. Cliche but I''m not against it."


    Charles laughed. "I''m not bullshitting you one bit, Mr. Steele. Don''t you think now that we have the chance, we should just do the meeting here?"


    "I see no reason why not."


    "Exactly. My father''s stepping back more and more from Nelson Bank," Charles continued, sipping from his drink. "I''m looking to tie it to real rising ventures. Not stagnant, overregulated corps. People like you."


    Darren''s expression didn''t change, but a flicker of interest lit his eyes.


    Charles went on, "We could arrange venture capital expansions¡ª not just one-offs. Structured support. And I''d like Nelson Bank to handle Steele Investments'' future treasury accounts."


    Darren raised an eyebrow. "Big offer for a small fish like me."


    Charles smiled easily. "You''re only small to people who think yesterday''s rules still apply. I don''t."


    The honesty in his tone impressed Darren slightly.


    He wasn''t selling dreams. He wasn''t flaunting superiority. He was laying out real opportunities, businessman to businessman.


    Darren took a slow sip from his glass, considering. "I''ll think about it. I can''t agree to a deal with alcohol in my system, can I?"


    "No rush," Charles said, clinking his glass lightly against Darren''s. "But at least now you know my real offer. Just know... you''ll have options. And when others start trying to jump on your ship, you''ll remember who showed up first."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being honest to you!©¿


    ©³Charles Nelson is a solid potential ally with rating of A+!©¿


    Darren smiled faintly. "I''ll keep that in mind."


    But then, a familiar voice thundered in both their heads. "Hey, Steele! What the hell are you doing with my guest!"

 Chapter 161: College Reunion (3)

    Both Darren and Charles turned around, and unsurprisingly, the person standing behind them was none other than Tyler Mooney.


    There was an infuriated look on his face. The blue-glinting suit he wore, earlier meant to scream wealth, now looked almost laughable against the dark anger rolling off him.


    Tyler looked at Charles. "I understand that you''re a nice guy, Charlie. Having a cozy little chat with... this fiddle. But you don''t have to do it. A man of your level shouldn''t talk to street dogs like him."


    Darren''s mind thundered at the sound of that name. He almost exploded in his seat, ready to shoot out a clenched fist at Tyler.


    Few heads had already been drawn from nearby tables, so Darren knew to stay cool headed.


    Charles, composed as ever, gave Tyler a slight nod but clearly turned his full attention back to Darren, refusing to engage.


    Darren, in contrast, didn''t move a muscle. He merely lifted an eyebrow, amused. "Relax, Tyler," he said. "I''m not going to steal your boyfriend from you."


    Snickers erupted from nearby.


    Tyler''s face flushed red.


    "Fucking Death Wish Darren," Tyler spat. "You''re just the same as you were in highschool and college. Running your mouth with no fear for the consequences."


    "But..." he tilted his head. "Something HAS changed about you, hasn''t it? You have money now." He chuckled condescendingly. "Would you look at that?!"


    Charles sighed. "What are you doing, Tyler?"


    "No, hold on. No need to come to the aid of Steele Investments over here."


    Darren jerked a brow.


    Tyler grinned at him. "That''s right. I looked you up. I came back to LA and everyone is apparently talking about how big you''ve become. All that talk about digital currency in college and now you''re interested in Bitcoin! Bwa¡ª ha! Ha! Ha!"


    "So what?!" His face instantly turned evil and cold. "Yeah you have money now, but a dog with a bone is still a dog. Only a very happy one."


    "No one buys your little success story. Small-time investors pop up every day. Doesn''t make you royalty."


    Darren sipped his drink lazily. "Is that what you tell yourself when you wake up in that leased Audi R8 of yours?"


    A ripple of laughter ¡ª sharper this time ¡ª shot through the crowd.


    "Seriously, Ty. What was that entrance? What did you think this was? Wrestlemania?"


    More laughter.


    Tyler''s hand twitched at his side.


    "You always had a smart mouth," Tyler growled. "Maybe it''s time someone reminded you where you belong."


    Darren tilted his head thoughtfully. "And where''s that? Above you if I was to guess, right?"


    Another round of barely concealed chuckles followed.


    Tyler''s nostrils flared. His pride could only take so much battering in public.


    He gave Darren a furious once-over. This bastard looked way different now. That suit, that chiseled face, that aura.


    Was it all that that gave him the audacity to speak this way? Did taking down Smithers Group get to his head that much?!


    "So you think you''re better than me now, huh?"


    "Never said that, but it could be true."


    "I make ten times what your company makes a week."


    "And you get a 5% cut of it," Darren retorted, winning laughter and humorous reactions. "In case you didn''t know why, it''s because it''s not really your money. It''s your dad''s."


    "Oohhhhh!"


    At this point, everyone''s attention was on the altercation. And everyone turned to instigators.


    "Ay! Ty, my man! You gonna let him speak to you like that?!"


    "Come on, Tyler! Say something."


    The Mooney heir glared at Darren with pure angst in his face while Darren glared back like he was daring him to try.


    Charles pretended to not be part of this, sipping his wine in silence.


    "Not my money, huh?" Tyler snarled, stepping closer. "Since you have so much more than me, why don''t you put some of it on the line, huh?"


    Darren looked away uninterestedly. "Pass. I''m not in the mood for a gamble."


    Tyler chuckled. "There it is, the scared little puppy¡ª"


    Darren''s eyes shot open.


    "¡ªtoo scared to play a little pool."


    "I''ll play."


    He finished the large amount of whiskey in his glass in one gulp then rose to his feet, Charles and everyone else staring at him.


    "Good," Tyler grinned. "How about 200 hundred thousand on the line?"


    "I don''t care. Let''s just get this over with."


    Gasps whispered across the room. Two hundred thousand dollars wasn''t pocket change even for some of these elites.


    Charles raised an eyebrow at Darren, silently asking if he was going to waste time.


    Darren assured him with a nod and walked past Tyler who snarled something under his breath and stomped toward the hotel''s private billiards lounge, a crowd eagerly following like sharks scenting blood.


    Inside the lounge, the luxury expected of a place like Golden Hay was well visible.


    Dim sconces cast soft golden halos across the dark mahogany paneling. Shelves of aged scotch lined the back wall, and the scent of leather and tobacco lingered in the air like memory.


    In the center of it all, the emerald felt of the pool table gleamed under a single overhead light, its polished rails catching glints from polished brass fixtures.


    Tyler Mooney strode forward first, his jaw tight, movements sharp. He snatched a cue from the rack with a jerk and spun it once in his hand before dragging it through the chalk with short, furious strokes.


    His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes locked on the table like a battlefield. Everything about him screamed tension.


    Darren, on the other hand, moved like he belonged to the room ¡ª or rather, like the room belonged to him.


    He walked with that quiet economy of motion that came from absolute control or absolute determination.


    He picked a cue casually from the wall, gave it a glance, then stepped up beside Tyler without a word.


    "Standard eight-ball," Tyler said curtly.


    Darren gave a slow nod, barely looking his way. "Sure. You break."


    Tyler planted his feet with purpose, exhaled, and lined the shot with militaristic precision. Then¡ª crack.


    The cue ball thundered into the triangle, shattering the formation. Stripes and solids scattered like startled birds.


    One striped ball spun into the side pocket with a clean click. Tyler straightened and rolled his shoulders, cocky smirk returning like a mask he''d been aching to wear.


    He circled the table, sizing up his next shot, leaned low ¡ª and fired.


    The ball missed entirely, clattering off the far rail and rolling back to mock him. Tyler hissed a curse.


    Someone murmured, "That was a bloody awful shot."


    Darren approached with the nonchalance of a man out for a morning walk in a garden. No puffed chest. No bluster. Just fluid confidence.


    He lowered himself, aiming at his first shot like it was a matter of rhythm, not effort.


    Click. One solid ball slipped cleanly into the corner.


    He straightened, paced once to the left.


    Tap. Another sank into the side.


    Then another. And another.


    His shots were precise, his cue action graceful, not a hint of wasted motion. The balls moved like they knew where they were meant to go ¡ª like they were obeying, not just being struck.


    The lounge grew quiet except for the satisfying thunks of sinking balls.


    Whispers stirred from the men leaning on polished counters and leather-backed chairs around the room.


    "Shit. He''s good."


    "How are you surprised?"


    People glanced at who just spoke. "Did y''all forget that Darren was like a mathematician back in college. What are mathematicians good at? Angles!"


    "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh..."


    "Well, Tyler''s fucked."


    ''Fucked'' Tyler watched from the edge of the table, shoulders slowly rising with each sunk ball. His eyes darted nervously. His grip on the cue tightened.


    That cocky grin was gone now ¡ª replaced by a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow. Sweat beaded along his hairline despite the cool air.


    "They were just lucky shots," he mumbled.


    Darren didn''t reply.


    He lined up for the final shot. The eight-ball sat just off-center from the corner pocket. He didn''t pause. No adjustments. Just a single motion ¡ª swift, efficient.


    The black ball rolled with obedient elegance and vanished into the pocket.


    Game over.


    A moment of silence passed ¡ª reverent, heavy ¡ª before the room erupted into a wave of low chuckles, applause, and knowing laughter. Some clapped slowly, others just smiled and shook their heads.


    Tyler didn''t move.


    He stood there, cue hanging limp from his fingers like a useless branch. His face was blank, but the tight line of his throat betrayed the storm beneath.


    Darren didn''t spare him a glance. He turned, stepped to the side table where the signed checks of 200 hundred dollars were.


    He threw his signed check into the fireplace and pocketed the one Tyler had signed.


    Disgraced, silenced and left speechless, Tyler watched as Darren left the lounge without a single word.


    Reaching Charles, who had watched the whole scene from a leather armchair, Darren gave him a ghost of a smirk. "Now, where were we?"


    Charles laughed. "Fuck business partners. We''re going to be best friends, Darren Steele."

 Chapter 162: College Reunion (4)

    The two of them were now back in the ballroom, talking about the intricacies of their business.


    Darren had never thought much about the business of owning a bank, but after enjoying Charles''s company, he started to see the intriguing world of banks.


    Not long after, a woman ¡ª a literature graduate ¡ª joined them, flirting with both of them as she pretended to be interested in their talk of business. Then, another joined, and then men started to join.


    The atmosphere had changed.


    More and more people were starting to orbit Darren instead of Tyler.


    Some of the former classmates ¡ª faces Darren barely remembered ¡ª now buzzed with forced smiles, looking for a chance to shake his hand, clink a glass, get close.


    They listened to them talk about difficult business deals and fast calls. Charles spoke about surviving the bank robbery after being shot and how his bank had regained itself after the minor effects of it.


    Darren talked about the intricacies of Bitcoin mining. How he had almost lost everything he had worked for, and how he had used strict calculations to save the operations multiple times.


    Then, others began to chip in on things they did, and of course, this eventually led to the inevitable bragging.


    "I just closed a Series B funding for my startup," boasted Amir Singh loudly near the champagne table.


    "My app just crossed 2 million downloads," said someone else.


    "Yeah? I''m opening my third restaurant chain," another chimed in.


    All subtle jabs and peacocking, trying to stake their relevance in the new pecking order.


    Darren, however, stayed silent ¡ª until a casual comment dropped.


    Someone joked, "Aha! Why didn''t you talk about it, Darren? I heard Horizon Strategies took a nasty hit recently. It was in Business Everyday in case you all missed it. The software product Darren''s company launched was copied by Horizon Strategies, and it failed."


    A few heads turned curiously.


    Darren couldn''t help the smile on his face, resting his drink against his lips.


    "That is true," he said, voice mild.


    The room fell into stunned silence.


    Eyes widened.


    Mouths dropped.


    Even Tyler, still brooding by the bar, jerked his head up.


    "Jeez man. Horizon Strategies is a very powerful company. Playing them... as a startup. That''s a big deal."


    "Well they''ve been having some power issues recently. Tamara and her brother are still fighting for the CEO position."


    "Well who was the CEO when it happened?"


    "Tamara?"


    "Yeah, it was Tamara."


    "Well, there''s no way she''s getting that position now."


    Tamara Johnstone, unfortunately, was standing a few feet away in a deep emerald dress, and she had heard all of it.


    Her jaw tightened. She didn''t have the strength to deny it. It''s not like it wasn''t true.


    Darren moved his gaze and locked eyes with her. She had this look of dejection and defeat in her face. With the faintest tilt of her chin, she signaled.


    ''Talk? Privately.''


    Darren finished the sip of his drink slowly, then murmured something light to the group he was entertaining. "Excuse me for a moment."


    A few disappointed looks followed him as he detached himself.


    He followed the swaying hips of Tamara like a guide until he arrived at the large side archway that led toward the garden terrace.


    They stopped there, the noise of the ballroom muting behind them as they stood apart from the crowd, under the shadow of tall windows.


    "Looks like you''re enjoying your new popularity," she remarked, voice low and tense.


    "Enjoying would be a stretch, Tamara," he returned coolly. "I''m simply entertaining it. You no be better to think I''m one who enjoys gloating."


    Tamara looked at him, sighed and looked away. "Yeah, whatever."


    Darren narrowed his eyes at her tauntingly. "Why am I here, Tamara?"


    She tightened her lips, pride still clinging to her, but finally pushed forward.


    "I need your help," she said bluntly.


    Darren cocked a brow, faint amusement glinting in his sharp eyes.


    "Help?" he repeated, savoring the sound. "You laugh at me at a dinner and you try to steal my investment. Then you want my help."


    Tamara frowned, getting frustrated. "Come on, Darren. If you want an apology, then I''m sorry. I am. To me it was just business, I had nothing personal against you.''


    Then she hesitated. "You know who had something personal against you? Ryan Anders. And I''m sure you hate him just as I do." She clicked her tongue. "For me, after how he sabotaged me with the NeuraNest software, I hate him too."


    Darren understood where this was going. "So you want him gone," he stated. "And the only way you can get rid of him is if you''re the CEO of Horizon Strategies."


    She glanced at him. "I need that CEO seat, Darren. Permanently. Full title. Full board control," she said, her voice steely. "My numbers have gone way down, confidence level for me is down in the muck. Ryan is the cause of it too. That news to the press? Business Everyday. I''m sure he leaked it. He''s trying to make me look back."


    She exhaled, just once. "I need an edge."


    Darren studied her, calm and unreadable.


    "There are certain things I can do to get you that seat, Tamara," he said. "But I don''t fight battles for free. And I don''t fight stupid ones."


    Her throat bobbed once, but she nodded sharply. "Is this battle stupid?"


    Darren let the silence stretch another heartbeat, forcing her to sweat slightly, before speaking again. "If Ryan Anders goes down then I guess it serves a purpose."


    "But in return," Darren raised a finger, calm but brooking no argument, "I want 7% stake in Horizon Strategies. 3 million dollars. And ally privileges. The money and the privileges can come after, but the stake, I want it before I do anything. Anything at all."


    Tamara swallowed hard.


    7% wasn''t small.


    It was a foothold ¡ª a very dangerous one.


    But looking into Darren''s calm, merciless eyes, she knew he wasn''t asking.


    This was the cost of salvation.


    "...Fine," she said quietly, pride bleeding from her voice. "I''m desperate at this point so I''ll do it. Just get me the seat."


    A cold smile brushed Darren''s lips. There was that desperation again. A loyal assistant


    "That''s a good girl," he said, turned and walked back toward the ballroom, leaving Tamara standing there, realizing that tonight, she hadn''t negotiated with an equal.


    Even though she governed a much bigger company, she was nowhere at Darren Steele''s level.

 Chapter 163: College Reunion (5)

    The Golden Hay Hotel buzzed louder now. Music thrummed beneath the marble floors, and clusters of old classmates huddled together, laughing too hard, drinking too much.


    The lights dimmed slightly to a rich amber hue, reflecting off the chandeliers like captured stars.


    Darren and Charles were both sitting by one of the bar tables, in their quiet but exciting conversations and sipping their glasses of dark whiskey.


    At intervals, when they had nothing to say, Darren''s gaze would dart over to the crowd, turning over the faces he had seen tonight ¡ª old friends, old rivals ¡ª all pretending to have moved on.


    He would catch some glance at his direction then look away. Seeing glimpses of their faces, Darren would be struck by memories of college, the laughter, the mocking, and how he used to pretend that it didn''t get to him.


    He didn''t win the nickname ''Death Wish Darren'' for no reason. Darren just had no atom of an idea when to shut up.


    He had been a loser, sure. But he was a talkative loser.


    No matter how many times he got beaten up, insulted or ridiculed, Darren still had something to say.


    This reunion, these faces, they were all bringing those memories back.


    Footsteps hesitated nearby.


    Darren lifted his gaze calmly and found another familiar face approaching.


    Eddie.


    Eddie Turner was here.


    Darren had almost forgotten about his once-best friend.


    It wasn''t Darren''s fault. As Eddie himself knew, he was the one who drew them apart. The one who had slowly but surely turned his back on Darren when public opinion demanded it.


    Just like he did in Smithers'' Group when they started working together. Once Darren started being ridiculed, Eddie pretended not to know him.


    Last time the two had spoken was when Eddie pointed him to the Red Fang to borrow money, and the last time they saw was at the company launch.


    Now Eddie looked like a shadow of that confident boy ¡ª shoulders slightly hunched, an uncertain smile on his face.


    "Darren," Eddie said, voice low, almost sheepish.


    Darren raised a brow but said nothing, at first. "Are you sure it''s wise to be seen around me?" he finally said.


    Eddie flattened. "Darren. Don''t be like that."


    "Be like what?"


    Eddie, realizing he was already fucking up in his first try, raised his hands up and apologized.


    "You''re right. You''re right. You have every right to feel the way you do." He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if embarrassed. "I just wanted to say... I''m sorry, man. For back then. In college. After college. In Gareth''s company. I should''ve had your back, but... I didn''t. I was a coward."


    The words hung heavy in the air.


    Darren studied him for a moment, letting him stew under the weight of it. Then he gave a scoff. "Whatever, man."


    Eddie looked relieved even though Darren''s tone wasn''t forgiving ¡ª just factual. Considering how he had treated him, ''Whatever, man'' was the best kind of response he could get here.


    Hopefully, there would be no anger, no long lectures. And hopefully, Darren wasn''t here to rehash the past.


    Eddie cleared his throat. "Uh... By the way, there''s someone who wants to meet you."


    Darren followed Eddie''s glance toward a quieter corner of the room, where three familiar faces approached.


    Darren recognized them instantly.


    To the left was Jaxon Daniels ¡ª smug, hair slicked back, and wearing an iron gray suit, and to the right was Amir Singh ¡ª wearing a brown suit and grinning as he did like he knew secrets no one else did.


    But in their center was Olivia Sinclair.


    Darren froze. He had certainly forgotten about her, the third member of Lily and Alison''s trio.


    And he almost hadn''t recognized her either. Back in college, Olivia had dark curly hair. Now, it was still curly, but she had dyed it to green.


    It matched the sharp black dress that draped down her slim model body with emerald lines. Her eyes were just as green and her lips glossed with a beautiful red.


    It appeared like she was staring at him more than he was at her, and there was a nervous but hopeful smile that lit up every feature of her face.


    She stepped forward first. "Hi Darren," she said warmly.


    "Olivia," Darren nodded back, his tone polite. "You''re in the city."


    She chuckled nervously. "You knew I was away?"


    Darren had to rephrase. "Well, I knew you weren''t in the city. You''ve been too detached from anything Brookfield up until this. And I keep tabs on your family. Formally, of course."


    "Oh," she nodded once, understanding him. "Gotta keep an eye on the competition, I guess."


    "Mhm." He looked at Amir and then at Jaxon. "What''s this about?"


    "You sly man!" Jaxon exclaimed. "I knew I recognized you in the casino!"


    Olivia turned to him. "What do you mean?"


    "He played Corporate Conquest with Charles, Grant Hayes, Gillian Henderson and I. And he won, took home our cash! He pretended not to know me. You remember, right Charles?"


    Charles got up, finished his whiskey and turned to leave. "Give me a call, Darren, when you''re done. Let''s set up that meeting," he spoke in Darren''s ear then left, only offering a nod to Olivia.


    Amir frowned, looking back. "What''s his problem?"


    "Beats me."


    Darren looked at Olivia. "Can we get straight to the point with this?"


    "Oh, yes. We... wanted to talk to you about something." Her voice faltered slightly as she gestured to the two men beside her.


    "I''m starting a new startup. It''s an Incubator. But it will first start as a digital content & IP company."


    Darren lifted an intrigued brow. "Incubator?"


    "Yeah!" Amir chimed in, flashing his practiced salesman grin. "Think of investment companies but with a broader scope. Imagine them as a nurturing environment that provides young businesses with the resources, guidance, and network they need to survive and thrive during their vulnerable initial phases."


    "I know what an incubator is."


    "Oh."


    Olivia added quickly, her voice soft but earnest. "I''m spearheading it. It''s my idea. Jaxon and Amir are helping with logistics. But they''re going to be co-founders with the amount of money they''re putting in. We really think it could go big."


    Darren listened.


    So this is what happened. This is what led to Olive Run Capital having a clash in leadership. This is what led to Olivia''s downfall.


    Darren remembered too well what happened in the previous timeline.


    Olivia ¡ª ambitious, bright-hearted, and desperate to escape her parents'' leashes ¡ª had been betrayed by these two snakes.


    They had pushed her out once the company gained traction, taken all the glory and profits, leaving her devastated.


    Darren''s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his face composed.


    "You want me to invest," he said plainly.


    Olivia nodded. "If you''re interested. I mean, no pressure. You will have the benefits, of course."


    "I''m offering 20% equity," she continued. "In ForgeRun. In exchange for a $250,000 founding investment. You get a permanent board seat. Full voting power. Strategic input on the first five companies we incubate."


    Darren creased his brow. That was a strong offer. Too strong, maybe. How desperate was she really?


    He shook his head.


    "No."


    Her expression tightened. "No?"


    He looked at her. Really looked.


    Everything she has said so far, she meant it. She looked fairly different than she did in high school, but she still had that same light in her ¡ª hope, fire.


    She was still the quiet girl who spoke when it was only something important that needed to be said.


    He didn''t think she was trying to use him.


    But the company would collapse around her because of the snakes at her side.


    Darren gave a sigh. "I appreciate you coming to me. Really. But I''m just not the right fit for this."


    Olivia''s face faltered. "Oh... I see."


    Jaxon and Amir looked disappointed too, though in their case it was clearly for selfish reasons.


    "What do you mean, Steele? I thought this was your thing! Investing in startups like us?!"


    "Come on, man!"


    Darren ignored them and finished his whiskey. "Good luck with it, though," he said to Olivia, giving her a courteous nod and turning away.


    Confused and disappointed, Olivia watched him stride away.


    Darren, now heading towards the quieter parts of the party, hearing the waves of laughter and drunken shouts rolling over the crowd.


    It subsided the farther he got away from it, but then Darren realized something. Felt it rather, tugging at his instincts.


    There was a face he hadn''t seen for a while.


    Darren shot his face left then right. He scanned the crowd, walked around while ignoring the people trying to get his attention.


    Still, he couldn''t find her.


    Where was Alison?


    He slipped his phone out of his pocket and tried her number.


    One ring. Two rings. Straight to voicemail. Third ring. And still voicemail.


    That wasn''t like her. If it was him calling she would answer straight away.


    Something was off.


    Determinedly, Darren moved through the ballroom, sharp eyes cutting through the crowd.


    He found Tyler Mooney leaning against a wall near the side corridor, basking in the attention of a few sycophants.


    Not hesitating, Darren strode up to him, calm and cold. "Tyler."


    Tyler sneered lazily. "Oh, the bigshot himself. What do you want now?"


    "Where''s your friend?


    Tyler frowned. "Who the fuck are you talking about?"


    Darren''s eyes darkened and he leaned down slightly, letting Tyler know he wasn''t here to mess around. "Where''s Terry Wilson?"


    "Mind your mouth, Steele! That bastard ain''t my friend. And I sent him packing, how the hell am I supposed to know where he is."


    Darren''s heart thudded once, hard. He glanced at the door Terry had sped out of and turned on his heel without another word, pulling up the system''s interface in his mind.


    "Yeah you go look for him, Steele! You''re both fucking losers and birds of the same feathers flock together!"


    Darren ignored him. "System, trace Alison Parker''s phone."


    A small holographic map projected in his vision and a flashing icon appeared on it, showing Darren where the phone was.


    North wing.


    She was not inside the hotel. Rather, she was in an alley behind it.


    Darren stood calm and still, glaring at the icon.


    "Fuck."


    He moved fast, weaving through the crowd, the warm golden lights of the ballroom giving way to the colder, harsher fluorescent glow of the service corridors.


    Then ¡ª the heavy steel door to the outside slammed against the wall as he pushed through.


    The night air hit him in the face.


    The map showed the dot ¡ª fifty feet ahead.


    In a grim alleyway half-swallowed by shadows.


    Darren''s hands curled into fists as he approached, his hurried feet silent against the cracked pavement.

 Chapter 164: A Face to Cave In

    The back of the Golden Hay Hotel was just different compared to its opulent front ¡ª cracked asphalt, humming ventilation pipes, and a single flickering lamp above a rusted maintenance shed.


    Darren was just a few feet away from the dot and so he glanced ahead. There ¡ª in the shadows near the dumpsters ¡ª he saw them.


    Terry Wilson''s hulking form loomed over Alison, who was backed against the wall, fear written across every inch of her body.


    Her arms were thrown up defensively as Terry shouted angrily into the air.


    "You did this to me!"


    "You''re the reason Tyler is no longer friends with me! My company! Everything is gone because of you. Where''s the money you owe me?! Where is it!"


    "Please¡ª Tyler! Please! I don''t have the money no¡ª"


    "Oh. Don''t worry. I''ve thought of other ways you could pay me."


    Terry grabbed her wrist, planted it to the wall and held both with just one hand.


    But before he could take off her shirt, he felt an arm lock around his shoulder and ripped him back.


    "What the hell¡ª?!" Terry started, but Darren''s fist answered first.


    A sickening crack echoed through the alley.


    Terry stumbled, blinking blood from his nose, but Darren didn''t hesitate.


    Another blow ¡ª to the gut this time ¡ª folding him over.


    Another to the temple ¡ª sending him sprawling onto the grimy pavement.


    Alison gasped, covering her mouth in shock, but Darren barely heard her. Maybe he did, but was too angry to think of anything else.


    His world had narrowed to one simple goal: eliminate the threat. This was the perfect opportunity.


    This bastard had just given him what he had needed all this time.


    A fucking face to cave in.


    Punch!


    Terry groaned, trying to crawl away, but Darren grabbed him by the leg and dragged him back to him.


    A punch, smashing Terry''s head against the side of a dumpster with a hollow clang. Another. Another. Another. Over and over and over, until Darren''s knuckles became bloody.


    Whether it was his blood or Terry''s, he wasn''t sure. He didn''t care.


    "Darren!" Alison called him, saving him at the last second from killing Terry.


    Darren stopped, panting hard. He stared at Terry''s face and saw that he had lost some teeth and blood was spilling from his nose and fractured chin.


    Terry was wheezing.


    Darren exhaled, and got on his feet. He sunk his hand into his pocket, took out the check with Tyler''s signature and flung it at Terry''s bloody face.


    "That''s the money Alison owes you. Now if I see you anywhere near her. You''ll be suffering from a little bit more than a broken face."


    Terry tried to sit up but lumped unconscious, blood trailing from his forehead.


    Sighing in finality, Darren turned back to Alison.


    She was trembling, tears brimming in her eyes.


    He looked at her for a while, then said with a softer but still firm voice, "Come on."


    He extended his hand and she didn''t hesitate, she grabbed it like a lifeline and followed him quietly back inside, avoiding the main hall and steering her to the private elevator reserved for VIP suites.


    By the time they reached the upper floors, Alison had mostly regained her composure but she still clung lightly to Darren''s sleeve.


    Inside the room, Darren opened the door and gestured her inside.


    She began to cry. "I''m sorry, Darren. I didn''t want to bring you into it. I was doing what you asked. I was trying to live in the present but he just didn''t... he just didn''t let me go. And I owed him so I couldn''t do anything."


    "He was right." She shook her head. "He was right about me being the one who ruined his company. He had every right to be angry."


    "Terry stole a million dollars," Darren stated.


    Alison paused, looking up at him. "What?"


    "He used the money you asked from him as an excuse. He stole a million and gave you 200 thousand. Terry hasn''t paid any amount back to Moon Enterprises. He was just using you as a means to pour his anger, reflecting what he''d done to you rather than admitting his guilt."


    His gaze got serious. "But that doesn''t take blame away from you, Alison. You knew the kind of person Tyler was. You should''ve known better than to have anything to do with him."


    She lowered her head again, guilt-ridden.


    "But I''m sorry that happened to you," Darren added. "Now, stay here. Lock the door. Terry might go looking for you at home so don''t go back until you''re comfortable. I''ve paid in advance for this room."


    Alison nodded silently, her eyes wide, vulnerable. "Thank you... Darren."


    He hesitated at the threshold, glancing at her once more, seeing both the fear and gratitude in her eyes.


    "You''ll be fine," he said and headed down to the ballroom.


    At this point, it was quiet. The air was thicker, the booze was heavier and the conversations were more slurred.


    Loosening his tie slightly, Darren scanned the room.


    ''I need a drink,'' he thought.


    He moved to the bar, slid onto a stool, and tapped twice against the polished wood.


    "Whiskey," he said simply.


    The bartender nodded and poured.


    Darren took the glass, downed a sip, and exhaled slowly, feeling the burn trail down his throat.


    It wasn''t the exhaustion that bothered him most ¡ª it was the constant reminder that no matter how far he rose, the filth from the old world always found ways to crawl back.


    Maybe that was just life.


    --------


    In the entrance of the ballroom, Grant Hayes''s figure appeared, phone placed by his ear.


    "Why do you keep dragging this out, Grant?!" the lawyer on the other sign of the phone said. "What is it with you? Get the papers signed already. Gillian has spoken to you, hasn''t he? This is the first step to taking Golden Hay to Empire Company level!"


    "I told you guys I need time to think. I''ll give you an answer by the end of the week this time. I promise," Grant replied.


    "Grant! Listen¡ª"


    "I promise!"


    He cut the call and sighed. Looking around, he noticed that the people here were some years older than him. But he was the one who owned this place and had been invited.


    Not knowing who to speak to, he headed to the bar, sat down and asked for some water.


    He took a good sip and dropped the glass, thinking hard on what to do.


    ''I keep thinking about that guy. I don''t know why but I just have a feeling that he could help. That I have to talk to him.''


    He took another drink.


    Then, the person beside him asked for more whiskey. Once the bartender went to get more, the person asked; "Seems like the party hasn''t started for you."


    Grant turned to his left and his eyes instantly widened in disbelief.


    He could do nothing but stare. "It''s... It''s you."

 Chapter 165 165: Meeting At Last

    Darren gave him a curious look, the question drawn on his raised brow.


    "I''m sorry, do you know me?" he asked him.


    "Yeah. You''re Darren Steele." Grant said, completely in disbelief that he was sitting next to the men that he''d been trying to speak to for weeks.


    The same man he was just talking about.


    "I was... I was at your company launch party."


    Darren frowned. "Wow. I didn''t know Rachel sent invitations to kids too. Unless¡ª"


    He narrowed his eyes at the boy. That curly brown hair, the quality of the suit, the place they were in.


    "Hah!" Darren chuckled. "No way. You''re Grant Hayes. Heir of Golden Hay. You don''t look like you''re enjoying the party."


    Grant huffed. "I''m just not much of a party person. I can''t believe it''s really you. I''ve been wanting to talk to you for so long."


    Darren''s brow rose again, intrigued. "Talk to me? I''m not like your long lost elder brother and the true heir, am I?"


    Grant laughed. "You''re funny. That''s a relief. I was half worried that you''d be stuck up a little."


    Darren shrugged. "I have my days. So what is it that you want to talk about?"


    Grant slumped his shoulders. "It''s about my dad''s board members and lawyers."


    "They want to split it up. The whole thing. The Golden Hay Empire. Hotels, casinos, parks... everything my father built. They''re saying it''s ''too big for one man to steer.'' They''ve already got charts. Forecasts. They want me to sign with MWMO as a wealth manager."


    That part made Darren''s ears perk up.


    Everyone''s saying that it''s a good idea. Even my friend, Gillian¡ª Gillian Henderson ¡ªthey all say it''s the best move. The goal is to become an Empire Company. Apparently now is the best time because the Bordeaux Corporation is a bit shaky in their position."


    Darren leaned back slightly, watching him. "You don''t sound convinced."


    "I''m not," Grant muttered. "But they''re all older, more experienced. They''ve worked with my father for years. I''m nineteen, Darren. Half the time I don''t even know what they''re talking about."


    "And yet you haven''t signed anything," Darren said, tilting his glass. "That tells me you do know something. Even if you can''t say it yet."


    Grant looked away. "It just doesn''t feel right. They talk about profit margins and decentralization like it''s math, not legacy. My dad kept it whole for a reason. Even when the market changed, even when it got hard. He said, ''An empire divided is an empire sold.''"


    Darren nodded slowly. "Smart man."


    Grant swallowed hard. "But they''re pressuring me. Every day. Saying I''d still be chairman. That I''d still have oversight. But when I asked about Sagomoto''s offer to consolidate instead of split... they shut it down. Called it small-time. Said I was being nai?ve."


    Darren was quiet for a long beat.


    Then he leaned forward, rested his elbows on the bar, and said:


    "You mentioned that your friend, Gillian Henderson is also pushing you to make the move. Doesn''t Gillian Henderson''s family own Franchise Hotels and Casinos?"


    Grant sighed. "Eh. I know how it looks."


    "There''s how it looks and what it is. These lawyers and board members clearly have wanted to do this when your father was in power. With you, they think they have a better chance. You''re more vulnerable to them. So it''ll be naive to think they''re guiding you, Grant. They''re cornering you. Dressing it up as strategy, but it''s a power grab."


    Grant looked over, eyes wary.


    "You think so?"


    "I''m a betting man. If I think it, I know it." Darren replied. "When someone tells you to break apart the thing your father spent his life keeping whole, and calls it ''progress,'' what they''re really saying is: it''s easier to eat the pieces than it is to swallow a lion."


    Grant blinked.


    Darren continued, voice calm but razor-sharp. "And for MWMO, they''re most likely the best wealth management company that''ll help them achieve this. I promise if you look into it, you''ll see they''ve been planning this for a while."


    "Sagomoto''s idea wasn''t flashy, but it was loyal to the core. It kept you in control. And they knew it. That''s why they killed it."


    "But they said¡ª"


    "They always say you''re still in charge," Darren cut in. "Chairman this, chairman that. But they''ll bury you under board votes and legal clauses until all you have left is a title¡ª and no teeth. Think of some of the presidents we''ve had in this great country. Do you think it was always really them in power? Or did they just have the title while others in the shadows ruled?"


    Grant gripped the edge of the bar.


    "I don''t know who to trust."


    "That''s by design," Darren said. "When everyone''s wearing your father''s suit and smiling with your enemies'' teeth, confusion becomes their greatest weapon."


    Silence fell.


    Then Darren reached into his jacket, pulled out a matte-black card, and slid it onto the bar.


    Grant picked it up slowly.


    "Steele Investments. Your company''s card."


    "If you ever need an ally company, mine is as tough as Steele. My law team knows how to fight wolves in boardrooms," Darren said. "If you want to push back, not just delay the fall, I can show you how."


    Grant''s voice was barely above a whisper. "Why are you helping me?"


    Darren looked at him, steady. "Oh, I''m no Clark Kent. This isn''t just me being noble. I''ve seen this play before. And it always ends the same¡ª unless someone decides to flip the board. You''re a kid, so I feel indebted to help you. But you also run a billion dollar empire, and I can not pretend like something like that couldn''t be of any value to me in the future."


    Grant stared at the card.


    It felt heavy in his hand.


    For the first time all night, he let out a breath that didn''t tremble.


    "Thank you, Mr. Steele. But... I still don''t know what I''m doing," he admitted.


    "Then it''s time you learned," Darren said. "But not from them."


    He rose, set his glass down, and gave Grant one last look.


    "When you''re ready to stop surviving and start leading¡ª call me."


    Then he walked away.


    And this time, Grant didn''t feel quite so alone.

 Chapter 166 166: A Fleeting Moment

    The night was not young any longer, people had begun to leave, others shared numbers and contact information to keep in touch after reuniting, while the rest continued to drink and bop their heads to the music.


    The marble floors of the Golden Hay Hotel''s ballroom gleamed under the chandeliers as the evening began to thin.


    Most of the reunion''s guests were either deep in conversation or winding down toward the bar, their laughter and chatter fading into a dull background hum.


    Darren looked at all of this. He didn''t have any reason to be here anymore. He''d met everyone he thought was important, and any one else he would have liked to continue a conversation with had already left.


    With a quiet exhale of finality, he adjusted his cufflinks and headed to the door, ready to exit the lounge and call it a night.


    As he moved, each time he passed a crowd, conversation stopped and eyes moved in his direction.


    "Darren is leaving."


    "Seriously though, when did he become like this?"


    "He''s completely changed."


    "Yeah. And I heard he''s single too. I would have never looked his way back in college, but now, I''m determined to make him my boyfriend."


    "Ha ha! Well, good luck with that."


    Darren didn''t stop for those trying to get his attention, and didn''t shift his gaze from the door to anyone.


    However, he barely made it two steps into the corridor leading toward the valet area before a sharp voice called out behind him.


    "Running away already, Steele?"


    Darren halted, his expression unreadable. If it was Tyler Mooney, then he could find some time for him.


    He turned slowly to find the first son of Archibald Mooney striding toward him, drink in one hand, the other jabbing loosely toward him as if issuing a challenge.


    His face was flushed ¡ª from alcohol or rage, it didn''t matter. The glint in Tyler''s eyes was pure venom.


    "You must be so proud of yourself, aren''t you?" Tyler sneered as he approached. "That was an amazing performance today. An amazing performance! You almost had me thinking that you were better than me."


    Darren half-shrugged, appearing as uninterested as he truly was. "You''ve always been one to deny reality, Tyler. I''m not surprised."


    Tyler grimaced. "You... you... think this little parade tonight changes anything?" He stopped a few feet away. "You''re still nothing. You''re just a damn dog. It''s what you were in highschool, college and it''s what you are. Your upstart had a lucky break, and that doesn''t mean you belong in our circle."


    Darren''s gaze dropped once, briefly, to the drink sloshing dangerously in Tyler''s hand ¡ª then rose again to meet his eyes with cool, cutting detachment.


    "I think," Darren said evenly, "that you''re the only one here who still believes you''re running a circle."


    A few nearby guests turned at the sharpness in his voice, pretending not to eavesdrop.


    Tyler chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Enjoy it while you can, Steele. Your little empire? I''m going to crush it. Just wait."


    Darren smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn''t touch his eyes.


    "You don''t realize how unwise it is to think that you still scare me," he said, his tone dropping to something cold and surgical. "You don''t. In fact, you''re less terrifying now than you''ve ever been to me."


    Tyler''s eyes quivered, his muscles contracted as panic and shock hooked in his throat.


    "You''re not half as clever as you think you are, Tyler. You''re just loud."


    Tyler''s jaw twitched. "You damn dog!!!"


    He lunged at Darren groggily but Darren simply got out of the way, except for his leg which tripped the furious Mooney, causing him to crash on a table, sending bottles and glasses falling on his head and drenching him with alcohol.


    Chuckles and murmurs followed as Tyler, half-drunk and not fully aware of the shame, laid on the ground, face down.


    Darren looked down at him despicably. "One day, Tyler Mooney. One day, I''m going to make you get on all fours and bark for me. Then we''ll see who the dog truly is."


    Not sparing the crowd a glance, he turned, walking off with his hands in his pockets, leaving Tyler fuming in the corridor as Jaxon Daniels and Amir Singh hurried to his aid while bystanders watched Darren Steele saunter away.


    -------------------


    As soon as he got outside, he was greeted by the crisp night air, splashing softly against Darren''s face as he crossed the lot toward his Lamborghini Reventon.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve earned a Character Bonus influx!©¿


    ©³Ten Character Bonuses granted for perfect usage of descriptors learnt©¿


    ©³Aura Farming & Social Perception impeccably displayed!©¿


    Darren stared at the notification for a while. A Character Bonus Influx.


    Apparently, rather than the usual one or two Character Bonuses, he could get an Influx of ten at once if you executed to perfection one of the descriptors for Financial Mastery that he was taught in his earlier phases.


    It was good news. Hopefully, the bonuses could unlock a pretty good feature.


    He tugged the car keys from his pocket and walked closer to the lambo, but just when he reached the car, he noticed a figure leaning casually against one of the ornamental stone pillars near the exit.


    A slim figure, illuminated by the dim gold lights of the hotel''s front garden. He saw green hair and puffs of smoke.


    It was Olivia Sinclair.


    She wore a dark fitted coat over her reunion dress, her long green hair cascading down her shoulders as she held a cigarette loosely between two fingers.


    The smoke curled lazily upward as she exhaled, her gaze fixed on the pavement.


    Darren considered ignoring her ¡ª but then she lifted her head, catching sight of him.


    Their eyes locked.


    It was silent for a while before Darren looked at the key in his hand, throwing it slightly and catching it. "Didn''t know you smoked."


    She looked away from him and shrugged. "Bad habit I picked up. Only thing that clears my mind."


    He nodded once. "I see. Clear your mind. Infect your lungs. That''s a good trade."


    Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you here to disparage me, Darren Steele?"


    "Oh no. No judgement. Hey. I used to do it too. I''m just saying. It''s a fleeting moment of pleasure and a lifetime of pain."


    She didn''t say anything to that, only taking one soft, silent puff of the cigarette.


    "Why did you say no?" she asked.


    "Mhm?"


    "To my proposal. You refused. Why?"


    Darren gazed at her for a while, then responded. "Get rid of the cigarette and I''ll tell you."


    Olivia paused.


    Then, maintaining eye contact with him, she let the cigarette fall and stubbed it out under her heel, pushing off the wall to approach him.


    "Will you tell me now?" she asked.

 Chapter 167: Dont Invest in Fools

    "I''m still waiting for you," Olivia said softly, her voice nearly lost to the wind.


    Darren pocketed his keys, folding his arms loosely.


    "You''re more outspoken than you were in college," he remarked.


    Olivia instantly felt a wave of nervousness strike her, causing her eyelids to flutter. She looked away. "I didn''t think you noticed me then. You were all over Alison, and then Lily."


    A soft breeze rattled the banners above them, the city glowing behind the rooftop like a patient witness. She stood by the edge, green hair catching the light, arms folded tightly across her chest.


    "Of course I noticed you. But if I didn''t have a chance with the louder girls, there was no way I was gonna try my luck on the reserved ones."


    Olivia''s brows creased. "That doesn''t¡ª I don''t know, Darren."


    "It''s by the way," he said.


    "Yes. By the way."


    They stayed quiet for a while, looking at each other.


    "I just..." Olivia hesitated, voice a little less sharp than earlier, "I want to know... why didn''t you support me? Earlier. In there."


    Darren tilted his head slightly, watching her.


    "You really want to know?"


    She nodded once.


    He tapped the key against his palm. "Then tell me. What exactly are you building?"


    She frowned, caught off guard. "What?"


    "Your company," he said. "Assume I know nothing. What is it?"


    Olivia exhaled and stepped closer. Her tone shifted ¡ª now crisp, measured. This was her domain.


    "It starts with digital IP," she said. "Content brands. Video, articles, curated personalities, and radio podcasts, and they will be all under one roof. Everything owned is in-house. Not farmed out or dependent on ad scraps."


    He said nothing, just listened.


    "But that''s just the foundation," she continued. "Once we have traffic, presence, voice, we use it as a launchpad. A controlled ecosystem. We test product concepts inside our own media, grow them quickly, and if they work, we spin them out."


    "So not just any incubator then," Darren said. "It''s a digital incubator."


    Olivia nodded. "Exactly. Facebook, Instagram, MySpace and others. We know how much media feeds data. And data feeds growth. It''s agile, scalable, and we keep control of every layer: audience, product, and brand."


    She paused, studying him now. "I thought maybe you didn''t believe in the model. Thought it wasn''t strong enough. But I''ve done the numbers. We''ve outlined projections. Even worse-case, we turn profit year two."


    Darren looked out over the city.


    "I believe in the model," he said finally. "It''s not the idea that''s broken, Olivia."


    She blinked. "Then what?"


    He turned toward her, his voice low and firm.


    "You were asking me to fund Jaxon Daniels and Amir Singh," he said. "Not just you."


    Her brows pulled together. "What does that mean?"


    "You''re working with Jaxon Daniels, who works for D&D Exports, known and suspected of illegal transportation of goods and weapons. And Amir Singh whose car company is two billion dollars in debt."


    Olivia chuckled nervously. "But that doesn''t really mean anything."


    "It means reason, drive, motive. Because of these various things affecting their separate companies, they can act out of desperation and betray you. They''ve got their hands too deep already. And I assure you they''re already planning their exit. One that doesn''t involve you."


    Her mouth parted, disbelief flickering in her eyes. "You don''t know that."


    "I do," he said calmly.


    Her voice rose slightly. "How?"


    Darren didn''t answer immediately. He just watched her. Like someone reading the end of a story before anyone else knew it had started.


    "Call it instinct," he said. "Call it pattern recognition. Or call it what it really is¡ª a trail of actions no one''s watching but me."


    Olivia folded her arms tighter. "You''re just guessing."


    "I''m observing," he replied. "I promise that if you check, you''ll see that they''re already speaking to private backers. Quiet meetings, late nights, hush-hush NDA drafts with names you haven''t seen. If I wanted to steal your company, I''d file a trademark prep. Pretty sure they''ve already done that. New holding entity, and yours won''t be on it."


    Color drained from her face.


    "Check it if you think I''m guessing," he said. "You''ll see it. Del. Registry. Draft name: Anything that isn''t your name. Most likely Jaxon''s idea, but it''ll be from one of Amir''s contacts."


    She looked away quickly, swallowing hard.


    "They wouldn''t do that."


    Darren arched a brow.


    She shook her head, more to convince herself than him. "They said I was essential. That this was my vision."


    "They need you to open doors," Darren said flatly. "But they don''t need you to cash out."


    Silence stretched between them, heavy as stone.


    "Why are you telling me this?" she asked quietly.


    He shrugged. "Because I don''t invest in fools. And I don''t invest in passengers. But I do invest in people who know when they''ve been dealt a bad hand, and have the guts to fold before it buries them."


    Her hands trembled slightly, hidden beneath her coat.


    For a long while, Olivia said nothing. The wind tugged at her hair, the cigarette long forgotten on the ground.


    Then, with a breath that seemed to scrape her ribs, she asked:


    "...What do I have to do?"


    Darren didn''t smile. He just responded like a man stating terms in a war he''s already won.


    "You hesitate. Check what I asked and cut them out after," he said. "Quietly. Or loudly. Doesn''t matter. But do it before they finish paperwork. Walk away clean. Start over with your name intact."


    "And if I do?"


    "Then I''ll help you," Darren said, reaching into his coat and offering her a card. "You''ll build your company. Not theirs. And I''ll make sure the past doesn''t follow. A huge investment, perhaps one of our biggest considering the scale of this."


    She took the card with steady fingers, but her gaze didn''t leave his.


    "...You''d really do that?"


    "Don''t act like it''s charity, Olivia," he said. "As for now, you have clarity. That''s a start if we''re to do business. Meet me in my office when you''re ready and let''s start building this."


    She looked down at the card¡ª sleek, matte black, embossed in silver:


    Steele Investments. Darren Steele.


    Then she looked back up, and on her lips was a thin, bitter smile.


    "You know," she said, voice barely holding steady, "I had a..."


    Darren blinked. "Yeah?"


    Olivia shook her head. "Never mind. Thank you for this. I guess we''ll meet at your office."


    Darren nodded at her once and walked to his car. The Reventon''s lights blinked once.


    As he pulled the door open, she called softly behind him:


    "Help me come up with a name!"


    He glanced back, an expressionless look on his face, and then a knowing smile broke through.


    "Olive Run Capital."


    Then he got in and drove off, leaving Olivia with a flabbergasted expression on her face.


    "That was..." she muttered, "that was the name I came up with..."

 Chapter 168: Spark of Retaliation

    It was a new day for many others. A new week, the official first of the new month.


    Everyone was starting the month with plans and objectives to reach. Many entered the office with smiles on their faces, many had the normal facial expressions as they did on usual days.


    And many... weren''t at all in any sort of a joyful or hopeful mood.


    One of these many was the son of the richest man in Calivernia, Tyler Mooney.


    That morning, the young man sat rigidly in the sleek, modern chair of his executive office, high above the bustling heart of Moon Enterprises''s headquarters in Los Alverez.


    The sunlight filtered through the half-drawn blinds, casting long stripes across his clenched fists and the reflection of his own furious face in the glass table.


    Throughout Saturday and Sunday, Tyler had been completely unproductive.


    Not just in office standards but in his own standards too. No alcohol, no women, no extravagant spending of money and resources.


    He had spent Saturday suffering from an intense hangover, and then spent Sunday suffering from intense depression.


    However, only one name and one face had kept him going.


    Brown hair, waved backwards with a few strands falling over his face. Chiseled jaw, pointed nose, blue eyes, solid frown.


    Darren Steele.


    That fucker.


    The reunion replayed in his mind like a broken film reel. Darren Steele over and over again.


    More Darren Steele. And even more and more.


    His posture. Calm. Calculated... Superior?


    The way he walked. The way he played pool. The way he acted.


    How could that be the same Darren Steele he knew from high school all the way to college. That doofus?


    What kind of change did he undergo?


    He could still hear the low ripple of laughter after that pool match, still see the smug smirk as Darren took the bet money without a single word.


    The way all the girls were gathering him. Tamara, even... Olivia.


    Tyler''s brows creased angrily and his fists clenched.


    Even she had been talking to him at the end. He saw them, talking outside the hotel. From the distance it looked like they were secret lovers or something!


    How could he have managed to get Olivia! He had tried since college and she never cared. But him... really?!


    That damned Steele bastard had stolen the spotlight completely.


    Tyler snarled, his teeth grinding. A mug shattered as his hand swept across the desk in frustration.


    "That son of a bitch..."


    He leaned forward now, pupils shrunk to thin, burning coals as he stared into the screen in front of him.


    www.steeleinvestments.com


    The banner glowed with modern minimalism. Sleek black and silver. It was the website that Kara had created for the company.


    Tyler moved the cursor across the screen, reading everything in the homepage.


    About Us. Portfolio. Services. Products. Partnerships. Tech Arm. Products. Mining & Blockchain. Strategic Real Estate.


    He clicked through each with maniacal patience.


    "I''ll crush your real estate play first," Tyler muttered, tapping the mouse with a hard finger. "Then your tech arm. I''ll have your software labs investigated. Strip you bare and humiliate you in front of the entire sector."


    He scrolled to the Leadership tab and stared at Darren''s profile photo. Calm. Composed. That look of someone who thought the world danced on his schedule.


    "You''re finished, Darren. You just made the biggest mistake of your short, smug life. You embarrassed me. You made me look like nothing in front of everyone. I''m fucking Tyler Mooney, goddamit! Everyone knows not to mess with me."


    He glared at the screen before him one more time. "Fucking hell this is pointless! My rage is not satisfied. I''m only getting angrier doing this!"


    A knock came on the door.


    Tyler snapped his head at it. "Finally," he muttered. "Come in!"


    The door opened to reveal Jaxon Daniels and Amir Singh. Both dressed slick as usual, designer blazers, tired but cocky expressions. They entered with casual ease.


    "Ty," Jaxon said first. "Heard you had something urgent?"


    "Yeah," Amir added. "Did someone die, or are we finally going to celebrate your successful deal in Massington?"


    Tyler lifted his head, eyes bloodshot with restrained rage. He slammed the laptop shut and pointed at them.


    "Jesus, man. I thought you had heat vision or something."


    Amir narrowed his eyes. "Why are your eyes so red?"


    "I''m going to destroy Darren Steele." Tyler growled.


    Jaxon blinked. Amir''s grin faltered. "Ty, did you sleep? Like at all? In the past two days?"


    "Did you not hear what I said? I said I was gonna destroy Darren Steele!"


    "Okay..." Jaxon said carefully. "You mean, like... financially? Or...?"


    "Every way possible," Tyler snapped. "Financially, socially, legally, I don''t care. I want Steele Investments burnt to ash. And I want you two in on it. With your help we can take down that bugger for good."


    The silence that followed was heavier than expected.


    Jaxon rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, look, Ty... I''m all for vengeance, believe me. But this guy? He literally played Horizon Strategies. Horizon Strategies."


    Amir nodded slowly. "And did it quietly, which is worse. The guy''s not loud. He just wins."


    Tyler stepped forward. "You two are billion-dollar legacy boys, aren''t you? Big talk, family empires... And you''re telling me we can''t take down some jumped-up, no-name bastard who mines some digital currency and got lucky?!"


    "It''s not that simple," Amir said. "Darren''s system¡ª sorry, company ¡ªhas solid foundations. I can''t lie. And uh, we''ve got... heat. On our own ends. Legal, financial, all that."


    Jaxon sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I don''t want to attract more attention to myself right now. I''m trying to pull off a few... offshore things."


    Tyler''s hands trembled in fury. "So you''re cowards. Both of you. All bark, no damn bite."


    "Come on man. For us, this is the safest thing to do," Amir said coolly. "We''ll pass on this one. For now."


    The two men turned, patting Tyler on the shoulder on their way out.


    "You should get some rest, man."


    "Yeah Ty, take a breather. You''re thinking too emotionally."


    Tyler stood there, fuming, as the door shut.


    As Amir and Jaxon left the building, wondering what was up with Tyler, they both got notifications on their phones.


    From Olivia.


    "Next step. Meet me at the office."


    The two men shared a glance. Then a grin.


    ------------


    Olivia Sinclair sat in her high-rise office, the glow of her computer screen bathing her green hair in a soft blue hue. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then pressed enter.


    On the screen: a private email thread. Attachments. Meeting logs. Tax routing forms. Trademark registrations. None of which had her name.


    She let out a heavy sigh.


    Going through this again, it was unbelievable.


    Amir Singh, it seemed, had already drafted a new holding company: SireCore Ventures. And Jaxon Daniels had been in contact with a private fund¡ª one Olivia had never heard of ¡ªfor weeks.


    NDA documents signed by only two names. Hers missing.


    Just as Darren said.


    Olivia still couldn''t believe it. She rubbed her forehead. Then her temples. Then ran her hands through her hair.


    Everything Darren said... it was all true.


    The knock on the door startled her.


    She left the tab open and stood. "Come in."


    As the door opened, Jaxon and Amir entered with relaxed swagger.


    "We''re here! What''s next, boss?" Amir smirked.


    "I think I''ve gotten a potential investor too," Jaxon added.


    Olivia, of course, didn''t share their enthusiasm. Rather, she spun the monitor to face them.


    "What is this?"


    Both men glanced at the monitor.


    The color drained from their faces.

 Chapter 169 169: Olivias Retaliation

    The room was quiet.


    Too quiet.


    Amir Singh and Jaxon Daniels stared at the monitor Olivia had turned to face them. Their faces, pale under the cool office lighting, flickered as lines of damning evidence scrolled slowly across the screen.


    At first, they couldn''t believe what they were seeing because there was no way. There was no way she should have known anything about this.


    But it was right there.


    Transaction records. Communication logs. Private emails. A draft contract filed under a hidden shell company¡ª one where her name didn''t exist.


    They stared at themselves, reflected in the glassy surface, caught like animals in a trap.


    Jaxon let out a shaky laugh, trying to pierce the tension. "Olivia, what is this?"


    Amir followed with a chuckle, just as brittle. "Yeah, come on. Why''re we looking at all this? Is this some... test or something?"


    Olivia didn''t answer. Her hands were clenched at her sides. Her body trembled not from fear, but restraint.


    "Is this really how you want to do it? Lie? Pretend?"


    She moved slowly, walking to the table between them.


    "Come on, Liv. What are you taking ab¡ª"


    "Don''t lie to me," she said coldly. Her voice was a blade, sharpened.


    Jaxon blinked. "Lie to you? Olivia, we would ne¡ª"


    "Don''t. Lie. To me," she repeated, louder now. "I know everything."


    She slammed her palm on the table with a loud smack. Both men flinched.


    "You tried to steal my company!" she shouted. "You were planning this from the start!"


    Her chest heaved as she gestured to the monitor again. "Dummy companies? Really? We''re doing this in 2010? Stealing from your own college mate with dummy holding companies."


    She moved her gaze between two of them. "You made it, and you were going to transfer all the IPs to it, quietly. You were going to leave me out and erase me from my own idea."


    Jaxon shook his head. "Olivia, I understand that you think this is true but..."


    "Just stop lying to me! The entire evidence is right here, you phenomenal moron!"


    They both fell shut.


    Olivia''s eyes burned with passion and emotion. An angry emotion.


    "Why? Why would you do this? Because you needed something to fix your own damn companies. That was it? That was what this was about?"


    Amir and Jaxon exchanged a glance. Real fear crept into their faces.


    Jaxon stepped forward, arms raised in defense. "Okay. Okay. But it wasn''t like that. We were going to put your name in the filings later. We just had to move quickly¡ª you know how these things go."


    Olivia stared him down.


    "You are even more moronic if you expect me to believe that."


    Amir chimed in. "Liv, come on. Think about what you''re doing. You''re angry, sure, we get that. But let''s calm down and talk this through. We''re the only ones who believe in this dream of yours."


    She snapped.


    "Don''t you dare say that!" she said. Her voice cracked with fury and betrayal. "You believed in what you could gain. Not in me. Not once."


    She took a deep breath, grounding herself. Then she looked them dead in the eye.


    "I''m cutting you off. From everything."


    Their eyes widened.


    "Woah. Woah. Woah. Let''s all just calm down."


    "You can''t do that!" Jaxon barked.


    Olivia crossed her arms. "I can. And I have. Your names have been removed from the company records. I have revoked access from every file, every contract, every deal we shared. By now, your finance advisors should be calling to confirm the terminations."


    The silence that followed was icy.


    Amir''s face darkened. Then he suddenly raised his hand to hit her, trembling with fury.


    Olivia instinctively stepped back, covering her face¡ª but nothing came.


    Amir dropped his hands.


    She turned and glared at him. "You should have tried it."


    Jaxon was already pacing. "You''re making a mistake, Olivia! Our money is in this! You can''t just erase us!"


    "I''ll sue you!" Amir threatened.


    Olivia smirked bitterly. "You won''t. We both know it. A lawsuit is the exact thing your companies can''t handle right now. Not when there''s this much evidence!"


    She turned the monitor again, scrolling to a page titled: "Fraudulent Corporate Transfer Logs."


    They stared. Speechless.


    "Do you really want me submitting all this?"


    No they didn''t. Of course not.


    And so, like wounded dogs, they started to back away.


    Jaxon stopped halfway.


    He turned back.


    "Who told you?" he snapped. "Huh? Who pointed you to all this? This didn''t just happen by luck. We made sure this was well hidden so someone smart must have helped you. So who was it?"


    She didn''t answer.


    His eyes narrowed. "Ah. I see. I see how it is."


    "It was him, wasn''t it?" he hissed. "That bastard. He never liked us. I know. He must have refused to invest earlier because we were part of the company. You two met up after and made a deal, didn''t you?"


    Olivia didn''t flinch.


    "And he was right," she said. "About both of you. So get out."


    Their faces twisted with a mixture of rage and defeat.


    "This isn''t over, Olivia."


    "Oh I think it is."


    With one last glare, they left.


    As the door slammed shut, Olivia collapsed into her chair. Her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. Her breath came in short bursts.


    She was having a panic attack.


    Her hands trembled, chest heaving as she tried to coordinate her breathing. She pushed back her hair, fingers tangling in the strands.


    Then a memory struck her. It was her parents in their lavish living room, speaking to her.


    "You think you can make it without us out there? The business world is cutthroat and brutal. You''re a feeble girl, Olivia. Stay home. Enjoy the money we make. You''re not cut out for that world."


    Still shaking, Olivia reached into her drawer. She pulled out a matte black business card and stared at the words;


    Steele Investments.


    -----------


    The door to Tyler Mooney''s office flew open.


    Jaxon and Amir barged in, their faces flushed with rage.


    Tyler looked up from his desk, startled.


    "You want to take down Darren Steele?!" Amir barked.


    Jaxon clenched his fists. "We''re in."


    Tyler leaned forward slowly, his fingers interlacing, and then a cruel, triumphant grin stretched on his face.


    -------------


    Darren was late to work that morning, but arrived in a tailored navy coat, sunglasses perched atop his sharp face. The glass doors slid open smoothly as he entered the marble lobby.


    Rachel greeted him, walking quickly beside him, holding a brown file. "Good morning, sir!"


    "Morning, Rachel."


    She continued. "You have a lunch meeting with Charles Nelson today. La Villette. One o''clock sharp."


    "Good," Darren said. "I''m looking forward to that."


    "And you also¡ª"


    His phone buzzed. Darren held up a hand. "Give me a moment."


    He glanced down, seeing it was an unsaved number.


    Having a knowing feeling, Darren picked it up.


    "Darren?" Olivia''s voice said. "It''s Olivia. You were right. About all of it."


    Darren stepped into the elevator. "Did you get rid of them?"


    "Yes. They''re gone. Amir Singh and Jaxon Daniels have nothing to do with my company anymore."


    Darren nodded slowly, a handsome smirk tugging at his lips as the elevator doors slid shut.


    "Welcome to Steele Investments."

 Chapter 170 170: The Meeting

    Darren had changed his mind at the last minute.


    His meeting with Charles Nelson was no longer happening at La Villette, but rather at the newly refurbished building of Castle Cottage Restaurants.


    Mr. Arnold Castle had taken Darren''s money and made great use of it.


    Everything Darren had instructed was done to perfection. The new building was like a gothic castle, made of black and gold.


    While it had an indoor main design, it also offered the same outdoor restaurant that it once was. Though this time it was much bigger.


    Golden lights hung high above in pumpkin-like bulbs, illuminating fancy tables and dishes.


    People were here and there, dining and laughing, while soft music played.


    Inside was like any other expensive restaurant. However, there were metal statues of knights and gothic design that gave the whole place its very own Franchise look.


    Away from the main rooms itself, there was a private lounge. This room had been especially made from Darren''s orders. It was a blend of rustic charm and modern elegance.


    Though the functionality of the room was obvious, it still had an over the top design while maintaining the medical theme.


    Amber lanterns hung from timber rafters, ushering their warm glows against the stone-textured walls. Velvet-lined booths nestled between wooden columns, and in the center of the lounge sat Darren Steele ¡ªrelaxed, confident, and unmistakably in control.


    He wore a fitted charcoal suit with a pale navy tie. A matte-black watch peeked from beneath his sleeve, tapping softly against the table as he rhythmically drummed his fingers, waiting.


    Rachel sat at the center. The couch was a semi circle near full 360 degrees, with a round table in its center. She adjusted her position, a file in hand that she had ready to document important aspects of the discussion.


    She and Darren shared a gaze and he nodded at her, while she smiled. They both knew that things were looking good for them and the company.


    Moments later, Charles Nelson stepped in, sharp as ever. His navy double-breasted coat gleamed under the soft lights, and his polished oxfords made a subtle sound on the lacquered wood floor.


    With him was a security guy, a tall, double chinned round man, almost a sumo wrestler and terrifying in his black suit.


    Charles paused at the entrance, scanning the room, then walked in with a professional smile.


    "Nice place," Charles said, extending a hand.


    Darren stood to meet it with a firm shake, a smirk on his lips. "Figured you''d appreciate something less uptight than La Villette."


    Charles chuckled, glancing around. "Did you find this place yourself?"


    Darren''s gaze wandered briefly toward the bar.


    Penelope stood behind it, organizing glasses. She looked up, caught Darren''s eye, and offered a shy wave before quickly looking away. Darren''s expression softened slightly.


    "I didn''t find it," he said, turning back to Nelson. "This is one of my investments."


    Charles blinked, then nodded slowly. "So this is yours. Or partly."


    "I prefer influence over ownership," Darren replied as they both sat. "But yes. Castle Cottage is one of mine."


    Charles exhaled softly, realization dawning. Darren had brought him to his turf to tilt the tension of the deal in his favor.


    Being in ones domain increased confidence, didn''t it?


    It was a smart move so Charles could only smirk and respect it."


    Rachel handed both men folders containing key documents. She sat down at the center allowing them space.


    "Let''s talk investment," Charles began. "We talked briefly at the party. So you know what I''m after, Darren. I''m interested in getting in early. Steele Investments is promising. More than promising, actually. I''ve seen the metrics. You''ve got something serious here."


    Darren nodded slowly. "And you want a stake in it."


    "I''m offering $10 million upfront for equity," Charles said. "I want a permanent shareholder seat, a priority vote on expansions, and soft veto powers on acquisitions exceeding $50 million."


    Darren''s face remained calm, but internally his mind processed each detail.


    With the aid of the Investor System, of course.


    Ding!


    ©³Investor Offer Analyzed: Moderate Control Clauses Detected Negotiation Advantage: 67% Recommended Strategy: Merge Institutional Leverage Request with Stake Terms. Risk: Minimal if leveraged against service exclusivity


    Outcome: Strong Deal Possible. Edge with Data.©¿


    Darren leaned back. "That''s a bold offer, Charles. And not a bad one. But you want equity and control."


    Charles shrugged. "You know I''m not a silent partner."


    "Then let''s balance the scale. You want us to make Nelson Bank our exclusive financial handler, and I want your investment in my company. Let''s do a no split usage. All corporate banking, fund allocations, future portfolio structures, everything goes through Nelson Bank."


    Charles hesitated, brows raising.


    "That''s a huge ask," he said. "You''re tying me up with every move your company makes."


    "And you''re tying me to every expansion vote," Darren replied evenly.


    They paused.


    A waiter arrived with coffee. Neither man moved to touch it.


    Charles smirked. "This is why my people warned me about you."


    "I hope it was flattering."


    "I don''t think you''d be flattered at all, Darren."


    "You''ll be surprised. Insults are usually backhanded compliments. The same way compliments can be backhanded insults."


    Charles folded his arms. "Hehe. I''m not a woman that you''re going to charm with words, Mr. Steele."


    Darren smirked.


    "You''ve got ambition. And a clear map to scale. But you''re asking for complete banking exclusivity. That''s not small."


    "Neither is a seat at the table this early in the game," Darren said. "You''ll be first on our official filings when we go public. Your bank handles our cash flow. In return, you''re embedded in the biggest tech-investment venture of the decade."


    Charles leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. "Let''s say I agree. You''d need to give me assurance."


    "You''ll get quarterly reports, internal performance access, and first-look rights at any upcoming verticals," Darren said. "Rachel, hand him the projection sheet."


    Rachel stepped forward, slid a crisp white document across.


    Charles scanned the figures. Trendteller, Trendteller+, the crypto arm, and the yet-to-launch retail analytics suite.


    "We''ve mapped five expansions already," Darren continued. "Your bank rides with us through every one."


    Charles set the sheet down.


    "And you? What do you want in return¡ª aside from my check and institutional support?"


    Darren paused, then smiled.


    "Stability. Trust. And the weight of a legacy bank behind our name. The Nelson family and Nelson Bank''s name opens certain doors. Just like Steele Investments is about to."


    Charles chuckled, finally reaching for his coffee. "You make a compelling pitch."


    "That''s because it''s not a pitch. It''s a reality. One you can buy into."


    The two men held eye contact for a long moment.


    Then Charles opened the folder again, pulled out a pen, and signed his section at the bottom.


    "Done," he said, standing and offering his hand.


    Darren rose to meet it, their handshake solid, grounded in both business and mutual respect.


    He and Rachel shared a glance once again and she smiled faintly.


    Ding!


    ©³You''ve gained a new ally!©¿


    ©³Ally: Charles Nelson


    Rating: A+©¿

 Chapter 171: Hes Building an Alliance

    The conference room atop the Steele Complex was bathed in morning light, the skyline of Los Alverez shimmering through the glass walls.


    In his office, Olivia Sinclair sat across from Darren Steele. She had a poised posture, considering everything that had led up until this point. However, she manages to remain calm.


    She had her signature green hair tied back in a low, businesslike knot and wore a silver suit that kissed her body tightly.


    In front of her and Darren lay the contract: ten pages of carefully revised agreements, equity shares, long-term options, and a mutual understanding of vision.


    Perfectly brought together by none other than the efficient Rachel Teschmacher.


    Darren didn''t rush. He read every line, and Olivia waited, her fingers tapping once, twice, before Darren finally looked up. "Olivia," he called her. "You understand what you''re signing?"


    "I do," she replied, her voice level. "And I accept all the terms."


    Darren nodded. "Full autonomy in content creation, but fiscal oversight on major product launches. Branding merges only if needed. 28% equity share in Olive Run Capital, with a five-year growth clause."


    Olivia smiled faintly. "I know, Darren. I agreed to it. All of it. And I know what I get in return. Steele Investments will act as lead partner for all data-driven campaigns and incubator monetization. Lead partner means that you have a big role to play. You''re the engine behind the scale."


    "Alright then. Let''s sign it."


    They signed.


    It was done.


    ©³Ding!©¿


    ©³You''ve gained a new ally!©¿


    ©³Ally: Olivia Sinclair


    Rating: A©¿


    And with it, Darren had sealed his third major alliance within a month.


    Charles Nelson had been the first.


    Their meeting had taken place inside the newly revitalized Castle Cottage Restaurant, a strategic power move by Darren.


    Then, the atmosphere had been warm and nostalgic, but the minds at the table were anything but soft.


    Charles, heir to the Nelson financial empire and president of Nelson Bank, wanted two things: an early equity stake in Steele Investments and for Nelson Bank to be the company''s official financial partner.


    Darren, sensing leverage, had smiled and proposed a blend.


    The summary of the deal was this:


    "You want early shares? Let''s tie that into an exclusive liquidity deal. Every dollar invested must stay within Nelson Bank for one year. In return, you get first-round rights¡ª before we go public."


    Charles followed. "And if I commit to a deeper round later on?"


    "Then you''ll be grandfathered into every expansion we make. From crypto to real estate."


    They had signed that deal with smiles on all their faces. Even the sumo-type security guard seemed happy.


    Next was Grant Hayes.


    The young heir of the Golden Hay Empire had met Darren under far more chaotic circumstances.


    A shy nineteen-year-old caught in the web of his late father''s empire, surrounded by greedy board members and a fake friend pushing him toward a wealth management group aligned with their interests.


    Darren had seen the vulnerability and acted quickly.


    When Grant had called and arranged a meeting with Darren, they also met at the lounge in Castle Cottage.


    There, Darren made his pitch:


    "I''ll offer you an alliance," Darren had said. "My legal team will vet every clause in their proposed agreement."


    Jonathan Vance and Daisy Chen were also present and they worked with Darren and Grant to draft out a solid plan to stop the lawyers from trying anything.


    This also included the possibility of a law case.


    "In return, when the Golden Hay Empire regains stability under your leadership, you become the official ally company where our clients who invest in our business can spend free business trips in your hotels. Including a monetary alliance in situations of emergency."


    Grant had hesitated, then accepted.


    Then there was Tamara Johnstone.


    It had begun as a rivalry. Tamara, interim CEO of Horizon Strategies, had tried to poach the software Darren created with NeuraNest. Her attempt had failed, and her internal feud with Ryan Anders had left her stand in the company weakened.


    She came to Darren in desperation.


    Darren didn''t hold back.


    "7% stake," he''d said. "Three million in deferred investment. Ally status. And your CEO seat must be secured within two months. I''ll help you¡ª but the price is control."


    Tamara, torn but determined, agreed. It was either pride, or survival. She chose the latter.


    Now, the news was everywhere.


    Inside the busy newsroom of Business Everyday, cameras clicked, reporters typed with fury, and breaking headlines scrolled across LED panels:


    BREAKING: Olivia Sinclair, heiress of the Sinclair Family, signs partnership with Darren Steele''s Steele Investments.


    The young multimillionaire investor continues meteoric rise, following earlier deals with Charles Nelson of Nelson Bank, Grant Hayes of Golden Hay Empire, and Tamara Johnstone of Horizon Strategies.


    Starting from just a cryptocurrency enthusiast, and still being one, this young man has spread his webs to numerous routes that new companies already dream of.


    What next can we expect from the....


    The sound of the television died down and the office it was broadcasting to, revealed itself.


    It was Richard Morrison''s.


    He was lounged like a king.


    The lighting was low, jazz music drifted from hidden speakers, and a beautiful woman massaged his shoulders while he sipped aged bourbon.


    Across from him, Ryan Anders stood beside a glowing monitor, eyes glued to the news ticker.


    "Who is this boy?" Richard asked lazily. "He interests me."


    Ryan''s lip curled distastefully. "He''s a nobody."


    Richard''s brow furrowed. He repeated the name slowly, tasting it. "Darren Steele... Why does that name sound so familiar? Darren Steele."


    "Ah!" It clicked. "Isn''t that the boy who partnered with Leonard?"


    "Holloway?" Ryan asked, then nodded in realization. "Your business rival."


    Richard gave a slow smirk. "Rival is generous. I''ve surpassed Holloway."


    Ryan''s voice grew cautious. "He released two world-breaking cures in two months. You can''t pretend that Leonard Holloway isn''t a threat.


    Richard sighed, the smirk fading. "That''s true."


    Ryan stared at the TV, fingers tapping against his own arm. Then something clicked in his mind.


    "That bastard," he muttered.


    The screen showed Darren walking confidently alongside Olivia.


    "Bastard? I swear the last time you spoke about him, he was your soulmate."


    Ryan cussed, and then his eyes widened.


    "He''s building a wall," he whispered.


    He walked closer to the TV, everything rushing into his head. "A wall of powerful people. Leonard Holloway, owner of the second most powerful hospital in the state, an ally of Steele Investments. Charles Nelson, son of the powerful Nelson Family, heir to their empire. Tamara Johnstone, daughter of the Johnstone Family, interim CEO of Horizon Strategies. Grant Hayes, heir of the Golden Hay Empire. Olivia Sinclair, daughter of the Sinclair family, Sinclair Group is an Empire Company as well. They''re all now allies of Steele Investments."


    He turned toward Richard, his expression grim.


    "And don''t forget... Cheyenne Lamb. She was at the launch party."


    Richard lifted a brow. "You think she''s an ally?"


    "I''m not sure," Ryan admitted. "But if she isn''t then she''s certainly a potential ally..."


    His voice dropped.


    "It''s all been intentional. All of it. Darren Steele has allied himself with five of the most powerful corporations in the state... and perhaps six. And he''s done it right under our noses."

 Chapter 172: Trap

    The silence wasn''t peaceful.


    It was the kind that gnawed at the edges of sanity, the kind that festered in the shadows of ambition and secrecy, brewing schemes behind closed doors and billion-dollar firewalls.


    High above the city, on the top floor of Moon Wealth Management''s gleaming headquarters, the air was thick with calculation.


    Ryan Anders stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, a tumbler of rare, amber-hued whiskey cradled in his hand.


    Behind him was the city sprawled before the gallant building, its twinkling lights swallowed by the bruised purples and fading golds of the dusk sky.


    Before him was a massive digital display screen. It had a surface made of mosaic of financial charts, company rosters, and a single, striking graph that dominated the room: Steele Investments'' growth trajectory, a meteoric spike that seemed to pierce the heavens.


    "It''s like watching a startup go supernova," came a voice from the shadows.


    Anders turned his head.


    Cyrus Weller, the man he had summoned for this precise moment, lounged on a sleek leather couch, one leg crossed casually over the other.


    Cyrus was bald, with piercing, eagle-like eyes.


    He was a former intelligence analyst turned corporate fixer¡ª a man who could weaponize data with the precision of a sniper.


    Ryan returned to the screen. "Supernovae explode eventually," he said softly. "We just have to time the detonation."


    He took a slow sip of whiskey, the liquid burning a path down his throat as he finally pivoted to face the room.


    Using the remote in his free hand, the digital screen shifted, replacing the triumphant graph with a new interface.


    This one displayed a meticulously curated list of startup names, each categorized by investment stage, risk profile, and network influence. The data was a map of opportunities¡ª and traps.


    Cyrus leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the screen. "You sure you want to bait the boy with this one?"


    Ryan''s lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Darren Steele has been a rather surprise for me. Better than I gave him credit for. But like most who climb fast, he has a fatal flaw: he believes he can save everyone."


    Cyrus arched a brow, his silence an invitation for Ryan to continue.


    Ryan''s finger hovered over the screen before tapping a single name: ''Delverate''.


    The words glowed briefly, a promising AI-powered logistics startup that had quietly received funding through one of the company''s Moon Wealth managed.


    Sinclair Group.


    Delvarate was a rising star, a beacon of innovation¡ª and now, it would be the sacrificial lamb in Ryan''s carefully orchestrated game.


    "Delverate is perfect," Ryan said, his voice smooth as polished steel. "Small enough to seem vulnerable, ambitious enough to catch his eye. If we dangle it in front of Steele, he won''t be able to resist."


    He scowled. "His obsession with startups will be his own downfall."


    Cyrus nodded, his mind already racing through the logistics of the plan. "And when he bites?"


    Ryan''s smile was cold, predatory. "We let him think he''s the hero. Then we pull the rug out."


    --------


    Later, at Moon Hotels Private Lounge¡ª a study in understated opulence: dark wood paneling, plush velvet chairs, and a crystal chandelier that cast fractured light across the room, air smelling faintly of leather and expensive cologne¡ª Ryan was ready for the next act of his plan.


    Across from him and Cyrus sat the two young founders of Delverate, their faces a mixture of ambition and unease.


    Jonah, the leaner of the pair, had a boyish charm that belied his sharp intellect, his fingers fidgeting with the cuff of his tailored jacket.


    His partner, Ethan, was slightly heavier, his curly hair and darting eyes betraying a nervous energy he couldn''t quite mask. They were in their mid-twenties, young enough to dream big, old enough to know the cost of failure.


    Ryan leaned back in his chair, glass in hand, his gaze dissecting the two men before him. "You''ll go in clean and sad," he instructed, his tone clipped, authoritative. "You''ve just lost everything. Moon Wealth backed out. A big contract vanished overnight. You''re desperate, you''re broken, and you''re looking for a savior."


    Jonah shifted uncomfortably. As expected, the boys were nervous and tentative, but him mostly so. "What if he doesn''t buy it?" he asked.


    Ryan''s eyes locked onto Jonah''s, unyielding. "He will," he said with absolute certainty. "Darren Steele is practically allergic to missed potential. That''s your mask¡ª you''re ambitious kids who got crushed by the corporate machine. He lives for underdogs."


    Cyrus interjected, his voice calm but laced with menace. "But don''t forget, the poison''s in the paperwork. We''ve buried a licensing dispute under a shell IP clause. Once Steele signs, he''ll inherit the whole mess. We trigger the legal action, leak it to the press, and boom¡ª Steele Investments is tied to a fraudulent AI startup. Regulators will swarm, public trust will crater, and his empire will start to crack."


    Jonah swallowed hard, his Adam''s apple bobbing. Ethan nodded slowly, his jaw tight.


    "Wouldn''t that just affect our product as well?"


    "No." Cyrus shook his head. "Of course not. Didn''t you hear what I said? It''s only the licensing. Moon Wealth are the ones in charge of your deal with the Sinclair Group. Nothing is going to happen. Once this is done, you return back to business and we continue our work as partners."


    The two boys still appeared uncertain, glancing at each other as though wishing the other would say something or decide so they could blame them later.


    "100 thousand," Anders suddenly stated.


    The boys snapped their heads at him. "What?"


    "100 thousand reunion clause. 50 thousand contract cancellation clause. That''s 150 thousand dollars. This should assure you that we''re not here to mess around. Your business is safe as it has always been with us. Now you either go big..."


    He sat forward. "...or go home."


    The two boys looked at each other now, having expressions that said, ''150 thousand is 150 thousand.''


    So they both nodded at this same time, turned to Ryan and declared in unison. "We''re in!"


    Ryan''s smile was a practiced blade, cold and precise. "This is your show, gentlemen. Win his sympathy. Sell him the dream. Then fall into his arms like good little orphans."


    The founders exchanged a glance, their resolve hardening under the weight of Ryan''s expectations. With that 150 thousand dollars, they were in too deep to back out now, and they knew it.


    -----


    That same day, they performed the fake press conference.


    Moon Wealth''s press room was a calculated space, designed to project authority without ostentation.


    It was almost similar to Steele Investments'' but rather than silver walls, the walls were white, framing a centered screen.


    A furnished podium stood at the forefront, and a digital banner flickered with the name ''Delverate'' in bold, accusing letters.


    The room was modest by design, but every detail¡ª from the angle of the lighting to the placement of the chairs¡ª had been engineered to control the narrative.


    Ryan stood before a small army of cameras, flanked by Moon Wealth''s polished spokespeople. In his hand was a fabricated press release, its words crafted to wound without drawing blood. He wore a somber expression, his navy suit impeccable, his posture radiating regret.


    "Representing the Sinclair Group, it is with deep regret," he began, measuring his voice, "that we announce the termination of our partnership with Delverate, due to irreconcilable internal disputes and a fundamental misalignment with our future goals. We wish the young founders well as they explore new opportunities."


    Camera bulbs flashed, their staccato bursts illuminating Ryan''s face. A few journalists leaned forward, their pens poised, sensing the faint whiff of scandal beneath his polished words.


    Ryan allowed a pained smile to flicker across his lips, the kind he''d practiced in mirrors for moments like this. "Business is a world of hard lessons," he said, his tone heavy with feigned solemnity. "Sometimes, the market simply doesn''t forgive idealism."


    Off-stage, Cyrus watched from the shadows, his faint smile a mirror of Ryan''s. The trap was set, the bait laid. Now, it was only a matter of time.


    As the broadcast ended and the screen faded to black, Ryan set the press release down on the podium. He cracked his neck, a rare moment of informality, and turned to Cyrus.


    "Let''s see how our boy Steele handles this one," he said, his voice low, almost playful.


    Cyrus''s eyes gleamed with anticipation. "You really hate this fucker, don''t you?"


    Ryan glanced at him. "I am slightly ashamed of the things I could sacrifice just to see him fail."


    And so they waited.


    After the press was over and the journalists were all gone, in the silence of the top-floor office, Ryan stood once more by the window, ending the day like he had started it.


    Another whiskey was in his hand, but this one was nearly gone, and his mind was alight with possibilities.


    He hated to admit it, but that young pest, Darren Steele was shaping to be a formidable opponent, a man whose rapid rise had shaken the foundations of Moon Enterprises''s carefully curated empire.


    An empire he was obligated to protect.


    Carefully going after the children of the powerful families because he knew they would inherit their health.


    And for the one person who had no children, he went straight for the owner¡ª Cheyenne Lamb.


    How could a twenty one year old be so methodical?


    Ryan felt goosebumps grow in his skin. It has been a while since he felt this thrill in the world of business. Being as powerful as he was, crushing companies that dared Moon Enterprises was easy.


    So, somehow, this battle was bittersweet to him.


    Ryan thrived on challenges like this¡ª on outmaneuvering those who dared to stand in his way.


    Delverate was just the beginning. If Darren Steele took the bait, the fallout would be catastrophic: a public relations nightmare, a legal quagmire, and a blow to his reputation that no amount of charm could undo. And if he didn''t? Well, Ryan had other plans, other traps waiting in the wings.


    One of which was about to strike a certain ally of his.


    Hahaha. It was all coming to place.


    Cyrus joined him at the window, his reflection a ghostly silhouette in the glass. "You think he''ll see it coming?" he asked, taking a sip of his whiskey.


    Ryan''s lips curved into a smile that didn''t reach his eyes. "He might. But by the time he does, it''ll be too late."


    "Little Mr. Duckling wouldn''t know what hit him."

 Chapter 173: Freezing the Heir

    On a fine morning, the Golden Hay mansion stood gallantly in the illustrious estate that also belonged to the Hayes family.


    The birds were chirping, leaves were swaying and the air carried the coolness of the fast approaching winter.


    Within the interior of the building however, the air was more thick. Filled with dread and panic, the kind that came out of nowhere and left people in shock and disarray.


    The unfortunate person this time was Grant Hayes.


    He stood barefoot in the center of his sprawling bedroom, the cold marble floor biting into his soles.


    In his trembling hand was his Samsung flip phone, and the screen glowed before him with news, the words of this news searing into his mind like a brand.


    ''SUBJECT: URGENT - COURT INJUNCTION NOTICE''


    His breath caught, his chest tightening as he reread the message once more, as though it would mean something entire different this time around.


    ''Effective immediately, all assets tied to your role as Chairman of the Golden Hay Group will be frozen pending fiduciary review and restructuring approval by the Board.''


    What? He thought once more. How could this have happened?


    Frozen. The word echoed in his skull, absurd and impossible. He hadn''t signed anything, hadn''t cast a vote, hadn''t even been privy to the board''s recent machinations.


    So once again, how could this be happening?


    He pressed on the scroll button to go down the page as his eyes followed, scanning the dense legal jargon that followed: ''Breach of fiduciary duty'', ''anonymous shareholder concern'', ''protective oversight measures''.


    The phrases were a blur, and as he read through them, he only got more confused, more scared.


    For something like this to take effect, they must have taken it to a court. And this court had approved this with terrifying speed, as if the entire system had been waiting for the signal to strike.


    "No, no, no..." His voice was a dry rasp and terrified. "What am I going to do?! What am I going to do?"


    First, he sped through his saved contacts, searching for the ones belonging to the company''s lawyers and board members.


    His hands shook as his thumb hovered over the speed dial. He pressed it, the call connecting before he could second-guess himself. As the line rang, he paced, his bare feet slapping against the marble, his mind racing through every meeting, every decision, every moment that might have led to this betrayal.


    No answer.


    He tried another lawyer. Another board member.


    No answer.


    He tried his friend, Gillian Henderson, and even he didn''t pick.


    What the hell was this? Are they trying to force him out as chairman?! The board¡ª his father''s board, the men and women who had toasted his ascension as chairman just months ago¡ª had turned on him.


    Finally, one of them¡ª Vector Callahan, senior lawyer¡ª responded.


    "Vector! What the hell is going on?! Why have all my assets been frozen?!"


    "What did you expect, Grant?! We warned you, and you forced our hand. The assets will be reviewed by the board and then we will know where to go from then regarding your chairmanship."


    "The board isn''t even picking my calls!! You are all in on this, aren''t you?! You''re trying to take my father''s company from me."


    "See you at the next board meeting, Grant."


    "Vector!"


    The line went dead.


    Grant stared at his phone with blazing eyes and a pounding heart. He had no idea what to do now. And he suddenly felt lost.


    The next board meeting was in a week. That wasn''t enough time to prepare. They would take it all from him, he knew they would!


    What to do... what to do!


    His eyes suddenly caught a particular context on his screen. The context of a friend and savior.


    Darren Steele.


    --------


    Across the city, the Steele Investments complex hummed with quiet efficiency. Morning sunlight poured through towering glass windows, bathing the operations floor in a warm amber glow.


    As usual, the dome was a hive of controlled chaos: analysts darted between workstations, screens glowing with real-time market data, and the quiet noise of conversation filling the air.


    In the business room, stood Darren Steele, his tall frame commanding the room without effort. Even though his Charismatic Command and the passive skill were presently being used, he naturally had control over the people presently with him so the effects were not noticeable.


    He leaned against a digital board, its surface alive with a breakdown of market shifts: currency fluctuations, commodity spikes, and a troubling dip in tech futures.


    Kara stood a few feet away, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her computer as she reviewed account flow simulations. Beside her, Rachel cross-referenced projections on a second screen, her brow furrowed in concentration.


    From Kara''s updates, the mining was going very well with a minimum of ten Blocks mined everyday. And from Sandy, relayed by Rachel, Trendteller sales were presently in a stable sales growth. Nothing too big, and thankfully, no major dip either.


    Now, they were working on stocks and shares, as of recently, multiple business owners had shown high interest in purchasing Steele stocks after the numerous deals Darren had made with big names.


    The trio moved with the synchronicity of a well-oiled machine, their focus unbroken until Darren''s phone buzzed on the table.


    He glanced at the screen. ''Grant Hayes.'' His brows perked, and he picked up the phone, voice crisp. "Steele."


    "Darren!" Grant''s voice exploded through the line, raw with panic. "They froze everything."


    Darren''s posture shifted, his shoulders squaring as he turned slowly from the board. The room seemed to sharpen around him, the hum of activity fading into the background. "Your assets are frozen?"


    "Yes!"


    "By who?"


    "The board. My dad''s old board. They filed some emergency motion, got court approval overnight. All the assets tied to my name as chairman are locked. I can''t touch a dime."


    Darren''s jaw tightened, he remained as unreadable as usual. "Calm down, Grant. Just take a breath okay. Now, what I need you to do is to send me everything. Every email, every document, the injunction itself. I need you to do it now."


    Kara and Rachel were already on their feet, sensing the shift in Darren''s tone. They met his eyes, and he gave a sharp nod. "Rachel," he said, "get Jonathan Vance and Daisy Chen. Emergency meeting. War room. They should be here in thirty minutes."


    Rachel didn''t hesitate, her fingers already tapping out messages as she strode toward her station.


    Darren then ordered Kara, "Find me Grant''s files. Amelia should have them arranged at the central terminal."


    Quickly, she scurried to the central terminal, scanning through other files in the secure channels before she found Grant Hayes''s.


    "Found it!"


    Darren stood motionless for a moment, his mind racing. He had expected some kind of response from the law team and board members. But freezing company assets? That was a very big and dangerous move.


    ...one they wouldn''t make without solid backing.


    There was someone orchestrating all of this.

 Chapter 174: The Calvary Arrives

    Thirty-two minutes later, the war room was a fortress of focus. Jonathan Vance and Daisy Chen had both arrived in loyal time, serious expressions on their faces because Darren had labelled this as an emergent situation.


    Rachel stood by the door, organizing a stack of files with methodical precision. Kara sat at the central terminal, her screen a cascade of data streams as she sifted through Grant''s documents.


    Jonathan Vance, company lawyer, lounged in his chair, his bespoke charcoal-gray suit as sharp as his reputation. His calm and satirical demeanor was deceptive, a mask for the ruthless precision that made him one of the most dangerous attorneys in the city. The exact reason Darren had hired him.


    Beside him sat Daisy Chen, legal advisor, her navy-blue blazer and turtleneck a study in understated power. Her fingers were laced, her eyes like twin shards of flint, unyielding and razor-sharp.


    Grant paced at the far end of the room, his young face pale but slowly picking up specks of resolution.


    He hadn''t dressed fancy, time and panic didn''t allow. He just wore casual button-down and jeans, contrasting sharply to the rest of everyone in their formal clothes and tailored suits.


    "So what do we know now?" Vance asked. "How did they manage to do this? And the most important question, was it legal?"


    Grant shook his head. "I don¡ª I don''t know..." he stammered. "They hit hard. "They dug up old provisions my dad signed years ago¡ª stuff I didn''t even know existed. It gave them the right to lock down executive funds if they believed the chairman posed a fiduciary threat."


    Daisy''s lips pursed, her tone dry as she flipped through a copy of the injunction. "From what I see here, they justified it because you refused to follow their recommendation to decentralize the business and rejected MWMO''s management suggestion. They claim somehow it could have dissolved this fiduciary threat."


    "They''re going to provide hard enough proof for that." Jonathan leaned back, his fingers steepled. "Though some may argue, a disagreement in strategy is not enough to justify a court-approved asset freeze. That''s creative lawfare. I''d almost admire it if it wasn''t so blatant."


    "This was retaliation," Darren said, folding his arms across his chest. His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous undercurrent to it, like the rumble of distant thunder. "You sided with Sagomoto and me, Grant. They couldn''t control you, so now they''re trying to break you. It''s a classic strike against a young heir who won''t play their game."


    "Clearly this really has nothing to do with the fiduciary threats. It''s made up."


    "But will it hold in court?"


    "It''s possible. If it''s legal enough, it''ll be difficult to argue why it''s illegal."


    Darren cussed. "The only people powerful enough to speed run this like they did is Moon Wealth."


    Grant stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto Darren''s. "You think MWMO is behind this?"


    "I''m a betting man, Grant, remember?" Darren said, his gaze unwavering. "I think, and so, I know. You were the last key piece in their puzzle. If you''d stayed aligned with them, they''d have carved up the Golden Hay empire and managed the pieces through their usual channels. The lawyers offered Moon Wealth a good cut for wealth management and welfare services as long as they protected all segments. You broke the pattern, and now they''re punishing you."


    Kara looked up from her terminal, her voice cutting through the tension. "I''m pulling up the board members involved in the injunction filing. Cross-referencing them with MWMO accounts now."


    Darren nodded, his mind already mapping out the battlefield. "Good. We need to know exactly who''s in their pocket."


    Jonathan leaned forward. "The good news is, they filed this under a temporary order. It''s time-sensitive. You have seven days until the first hearing, when the court reviews whether the freeze remains or is lifted. That''s our window."


    Daisy slid a thick folder across the table to Grant, her movements precise. "This is our counter-strategy. We don''t just dispute the grounds for the freeze, we challenge the entire legality of their filing. And then we show the court how the board manipulated you into silence."


    Grant opened the folder, his eyes widening at the stack of documents inside. "This is a lot of paperwork."


    "And that''s just the surface," Daisy said with an ''I know'' shrug. "We''ve also submitted a shadow request for discovery. Any documentation that shows board coordination with MWMO or affiliated firms will legally implicate them for conflict of interest. If we find even a shred of evidence, their case collapses."


    Darren''s eyes gleamed with quiet resolve. "They drew first blood. Now we make sure they regret it."


    Several hours passed and the war room had been a flurry of activities throughout those hours.


    Kara was presently before a 3D flow chart projected above the table, its holographic lines tracing financial transactions over the past six months involving Golden Hay accounts. Red flags pulsed at key nodes, each one a connection to MWMO or its subsidiaries.


    "Caught them," Kara said, her voice triumphant as she zoomed in on a cluster of transactions. "Three of the filing board members¡ª Grayson, Kline, and Voss¡ª had their companies listed as MWMO-managed portfolios. That''s direct financial interest."


    Jonathan''s eyes lit up like a predator scenting blood. "That''s enough for a judge to raise eyebrows. If we can tie those portfolios to specific MWMO directives, we''ve got them in conflict of interest."


    Daisy chimed in. "Unfreezing the assets would be too small of a move. It doesn''t assure security. We''re going to make the court consider sanctions against the board for bad-faith governance. That way, they''ll be too busy covering their own backs to come after Grant again."


    Darren nodded, his mind already three steps ahead. "Send the legal motion to their attorneys. Let''s see how fast they squirm when they realize we have the upper hand."


    Grant looked at him. "Are you really going to do it? Can you really stop them and save my company?"


    Darren didn''t respond, only giving him a soft gaze. He then looked at Rachel who approached Grant and placed a hand on his shoulder.


    Grant turned to look at her.


    "If there''s anyone you could trust in this situation, then it''s Mr. Steele."


    Grant returned his gaze to Darren. He nodded at him, and Darren nodded back.


    Then, everyone went back to work.


    Darren''s phone dinged, grabbing his attention. When he checked the notification, he saw that a new email had arrived, the subject line innocuous but Darren found it curious:


    ''Interest in New Investment Partnership.''


    The sender was Delvarate, a tech startup in the neuro-link integration space. The message was brief, professional, and very polished. They claimed to have been recently cut loose by Moon Wealth Management and were seeking new visionary partners to carry their innovation forward.


    Darren stared at the screen.


    ''Did I not hear about this yesterday? On the news? The papers?'' His eyes narrowed at the company''s information after they''d finished making their case of why they wanted his investment.


    He pursed his lips and shrugged. ''Alright, Delvarate. Let''s see what you''re all about.''

 Chapter 175: Deal with the Fakes

    After reading the email, Darren had gone on to do an extensive research on Delvarate and their whole stitch.


    To be fair, it wasn''t that extensive of a research, it was just as much as time permitted him, especially with Grant''s legal issues pressing down on him.


    He found Delvarate intriguing enough. Their ideas for a software for warehouse automation was very catchy and sure to bring in money. In fact, the more he studied them, the more promising they looked which led him to ask one question.


    Why the hell would the Sinclair Group let go of a startup such as this?


    Difference in goals and objectives was such a lousy reason to him, considering they had signed a contract before and such things were usually discussed then.


    The whole thing started looking way too good to be true.


    Nevertheless, he couldn''t just let this opportunity fly past him because he was uncertain of a tinsy bitsy thing, and so, he reached out to the creators of Delvarate and agreed for a meeting on Thursday.


    It was Thursday.


    The private conference room on the 5th floor of the Steele Complex''s West Wing was a sleek, modern space trimmed with obsidian black walls and brushed chrome lining.


    The panoramic windows overlooked Los Alverez''s central business plaza, but the drawn curtains today ensured full privacy.


    A digital projection board hummed softly on the far wall, currently displaying Darren Steele''s company logo alongside the flickering placeholder text: "Pending Presentation."


    Darren sat at the head of the conference table, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit and an open-collared slate shirt. At his right side sat Amelia, as Secretary of Investments, it was necessary that she was part of these meetings.


    She was prepared, her notebook open and stylus ready. She wore her usual sharp blazer and carried the air of someone who was always prepared to do what was asked of her.


    Although, after her last mission¡ª when that happened ¡ªshe was yet to tell Darren anything about it.


    She wondered if she ever would.


    Amelia took a peek at Darren, wondering how he would react. Protective? Possessive? Unbothered? Angry?


    Someone, she forgot completely about how he would react and realized that what she was thinking about was how she would want him to react.


    Thankfully, before Darren could catch her moping, the doors opened, snapping her awake from her thoughts.


    Jonah Crest and Ethan Vale entered, dressed in slim business wear that tried a little too hard to scream confidence.


    Jonah, the leaner of the two, had slicked-back hair and a faint nervous sheen across his brow. Ethan, bulkier, wore a pair of glasses and carried a laptop. They looked like perfect startup founders: hungry, hopeful, and hiding something.


    "Gentlemen," Darren greeted with a subtle nod. He didn''t stand, only gestured them to the waiting couches. "You''re on time. I appreciate that."


    "Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Steele," Jonah said, offering a tight smile as both men took their seats. "It''s an honor."


    "You''ve prepared your pitch?"


    Ethan nodded and synced his laptop to the screen. With a tap, the placeholder faded and was replaced by a glowing logo: Delvarate ¡ª Neuro-Integrated Real-Time Operations System.


    "Delvarate," Jonah began, his voice practiced. "Is a next-generation neuro-link logistics system designed to interface with human neural input for instantaneous fleet management, warehouse automation, and inventory recalibration."


    Amelia arched a brow, instantly interested.


    Jonah continued, his voice smooth. "Traditional logistics rely on structured input: screens, commands, interfaces. Delvarate shortens that. We turn trained thoughts into action. Through a neural band or implant, an operator can manage multiple autonomous delivery systems, update smart inventory algorithms, or trigger real-time rerouting... with a thought."


    Darren leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. "So this is the sci-fi fantasy that Sinclair Group and Moon Wealth have been up to. Surprised they would give it up."


    Ethan and Jonah shared a glance that Darren caught.


    "It also sounds very dangerous. Tell me, what safety protocols are you working with?"


    Ethan jumped in. "We''ve integrated three-phase neural dampeners, AI-assisted override systems, and a biometric tether protocol that prevents accidental cross-signals. And, if necessary, Delvarate has a full hardline kill-switch for physical shutdown."


    "Sounds expensive."


    Jonah smiled. "It is. But that''s where the opportunity lies. There''s no true competitor for full-spectrum neuro-logistics. We''re first. And we intend to stay first."


    Darren glanced at Amelia, who gave the faintest nod. "I know that."


    He leaned forward after a sigh.


    "Now," Darren said, his voice shifting into its usual cool steel, "Why don''t we address the headline? Moon Wealth Management and Sinclair Group pulling out of your venture? That kind of fallout isn''t small."


    Jonah''s smile faltered for the slightest second.


    "It was... strategic misalignment," he said quickly.


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being dishonest©¿


    Ethan tried to cover. "Our vision shifted. We wanted to pivot Delvarate into a more open-source-friendly architecture. They wanted tighter control. We felt it compromised our values."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being dishonest©¿


    Darren offered nothing but silence. The kind that made men rethink their lives. He drummed two fingers on the table, then asked, "And you think my company aligns with your values?"


    "Absolutely," Jonah jumped in. "You''re forward-thinking, solution-driven. You invest in disruption, and you don''t shy away from risk. After what you did for Trendteller, how could we not come running to you to help us next? You''re the kind of leader we want."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being slightly honest©¿


    But Darren lifted a brow. ''That''s an interesting one.''


    Then he returned to the duo. "Flattery doesn''t pay dividends, Mr. Crest. Let''s focus on numbers."


    Ethan exhaled in visible relief. "We''re looking to raise 3.5 million in a two-phase injection. First for equipment and operator expansion, second for regional licensing. We''ll give 11% equity, and a board observer seat."


    Darren tapped his pen once. "Board observer?"


    "You wouldn''t be voting. But you''d have insight into every major operational discussion."


    "And if I wanted voting rights?"


    Jonah looked hesitant. "That would take a higher figure. Maybe... six million?"


    Darren nodded slowly, feigning consideration. "Let''s say I''m interested. But I''d prefer to close things formally. We don''t do backroom handshakes at Steele Investments."


    "Of course," Ethan said quickly. "We understand."


    Darren stood. "Good. Then let''s finalize this tomorrow. Sagomoto Offices, 10 a.m. I like the place. Comfortable chairs, excellent coffee."


    The boys stood, almost too eagerly. "Are you serious?! I can''t believe it, Mr. Steele! Thank you! Thank you so much! We''ll be there."


    They extended a hand, and Darren shook both.


    "One more thing," he added smoothly as they turned for the door. "No last-minute surprises. If there''s anything in your legal structure I should know before then, you tell me now."


    The two looked at each other again, half-scared.


    "Everything is good, sir," Ethan said.


    "Yes. No surprises, Mr. Steele," Jonah added.


    Ding!


    ©³They are both being dishonest©¿


    "Good," Darren replied, nodding as though he believed him.


    When they were gone, the room fell silent again.


    Amelia stepped forward, arms crossed.


    Darren didn''t look at her. He only continued to glare at the closed door.


    Then he asked quietly, "Do you smell it too?"


    She glanced at him. "Smell what?"


    His eyes narrowed icily.


    "A rat."

 Chapter 176: A Hidden Participant

    The wind outside was crisp as Darren and Amelia stepped out of the office building, their polished shoes echoing faintly on the pavement as they approached the waiting car.


    Amelia was reading through her note, already processing the meeting details from Delverate, while Darren remained pensive.


    As she read, she explained to Darren some details of the investment, pointing out the amount left in their investment fund which was around 40 million.


    She let Darren know that Sandy decided that 10 million should be kept in the vault for emergency add-ons, pay offs or repairs.


    Darren suggested that since their investment strategy was increasing, it would be wise to increase the investment fund starting next month. Perhaps double the present amount, just to make sure they don''t end up without funds when a major asset is available.


    Amelia agreed with that and added it to her note:


    ''Increase investment funds.''


    Just as they were about to step into the vehicle, one of Darren''s personal security staff approached swiftly, holding a sleek black envelope with a red wax seal.


    "Mr. Steele," the guard said, eyes tense. "This just arrived. It was delivered by hand, no return address. But the quality... it appears to be from someone powerful."


    Darren took a good look at the envelope before taking it calmly.


    He cracked the seal and unfolded the letter.


    It wasn''t written by hand, it had been printed. Darren sneered at it as he went on to read its content:


    ''To Darren Steele,


    I would caution a man in your position to remember the weight of legacy. You have overstepped into matters that do not belong to you.


    Your recent involvement with Grant Hayes, and your interference in matters concerning the Golden Hay Empire, are not unnoticed. We have let it slide, thinking it a temporary fancy. But as of this moment, you are being watched.


    We are not interested in petty back-and-forths. But if you persist in dragging your company into affairs where it holds no original claim, we will be forced to act.


    This is not a threat. This is a promise.


    Stand down, or your empire will be next.''


    - Vector Callahan


    Senior Partner, Ashridge & Moore Law, Legal Division for Golden Hay Group


    Darren raised a brow as he finished reading.


    ---------------


    POW!


    A hand slapped a piece of paper violently on a wooden table. The hand was Darren''s, and the paper was the letter he had just received moments ago.


    He was back in the war room where everyone else except Kara was, still formulating the defense plan.


    At least they were. Now, they were all staring at Darren¡ª the source of the noise¡ª and the paper under his palm.


    "I was just threatened." he said, then pushed the paper.


    It surfed on the table, and headed right for Vance, stopping exactly where he stood at the edge of the table.


    Jonathan Vance picked it up and began reading, Daisy Chen walked to him, and read alongside him, one of her hands resting on her hip.


    "Printing it rather than writing was a smart move," Vance said. "Even if there''s his name here, he can simply deny it in court. Anyone could have forged that, especially since he didn''t even sign it."


    He shook his head and kissed his teeth twice. "Vector Callahan, the fucker is still working for Ashridge. Sly man, he is. But he''s still a veteran. We have to be careful with him."


    "This isn''t just a veiled threat," Daisy muttered. "It''s a declaration. They''re escalating."


    She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the letter. "He''s essentially saying, ''Back off or we burn you.'' They''re getting desperate."


    Darren remained standing, arms folded. "Yeah, that''s one way to see it."


    He turned to Rachel who stood nearby, awaiting instructions.


    "Rachel," Darren said, "I want a rough valuation. Net worth of the entire Golden Hay asset pool. That includes the parks, the hotels, the casinos. Everything."


    Rachel turned to her computer, fingers flying over the keys. After a few tense moments, she looked up.


    "Estimate comes in at just above five billion dollars."


    Vance gave a low whistle. "Five billion? That''s no joke."


    Daisy frowned. "That can''t be everything. A conglomerate like Golden Hay? They''re hiding off-books wealth, private stakes, shell holdings... but even at five billion, it''s an empire."


    Darren nodded. "Give me updates. Everything you''ve sniffed out since our last sit-down. Who''s pulling strings? Who''s benefiting?"


    Daisy tapped her tablet. "Alright. We''ve identified three primary beneficiaries pushing for asset redistribution: Donald Henderson, Marla Gentry, and Keith Lang. All former partners of Terrance Hayes¡ª Grant''s father. They''ve been consolidating backroom influence through MWMO and legal proxies."


    She pointed to a diagram projected onto the table. "Some have priority for the hospitality wing¡ª luxury hotels and resorts. Some are focused on the parks. Others on the casinos."


    And that was it. That was when it struck Darren. An instant outside thought.


    The lawyers wanted to allocate the assets separately. But what if it wasn''t for the reason they had always thought?


    Maybe it wasn''t just about everyone owning a piece. Maybe it was about a particular person owning a particular piece.


    His eyes lit up with realization. ''I''ve got it wrong all this time.''


    Everyone looked at him.


    "What are you thinking, Mr. Steele?" Vance asked.


    Darren turned slowly to Rachel. "Rachel. Out of all the Golden Hay assets ¡ª hotels, casinos, parks ¡ª which one is worth the most on its own?"


    Rachel ran a quick breakdown. A few moments later she said, "The casinos. They have a worth of $1.3 billion alone. It''s nearly double the next asset class."


    "That''s surprising." Vance said. "I would have guessed the hotels."


    "The casinos... the casinos..." Darren muttered to himself, still thinking. "Daisy," he called, "who among the board members is slated to take control of the casinos under the proposed restructuring?"


    Daisy tapped into the access logs, eyes scanning rapidly. "It says here that... With legal transfer already in motion contingent on Grant''s removal, full executive oversight for the casinos is slated for... Donald Henderson."


    Darren froze.


    Then turned to Vance.


    "Donald Henderson?" Vance said. "That''s Gillian Henderson''s father. He owns Franchise Casinos."


    The room fell silent.


    Darren''s heart dropped.


    "Call Grant Hayes. Now."

 Chapter 177: Strong as Steele

    The doors parted with a low hiss as Gillian Henderson ¡ª in a brown suit with his long hair tied to a bun ¡ª stepped into the high-ceilinged chamber. Everything in the room gleamed ¡ª polished mahogany floors, deep velvet curtains, and an overhead chandelier dripping with crystal.


    The walls were lined with silent, golden-framed portraits of men who had long ruled from behind curtains.


    The Hendersons.


    They were from old money. The oldest of it, changing their family name with the flow of time. And now, in the modern world, they had a more quiet wealth ¡ª the kind that never needed to announce itself.


    In the center of this room sat Donald Henderson, reclined in a leather armchair near a tall oxygen stand.


    A silk blanket draped over his legs, though his frame still looked sharply cut in his tailored suit. His skin was pale beneath the amber lighting, but his eyes were anything but weak.


    He looked up as his son approached, a tired smile ghosting his lips.


    "You''re late."


    "I came as soon as the meeting ended," Gillian replied, moving smoothly toward him. "The restructuring motion passed. You''ll have full voting control in seventy-two hours."


    Donald gave a nod, slow but satisfied. "Good. But we''re not here to pat backs."


    He leaned forward slightly. "Do you remember what I told you when we first discussed Golden Hay''s casino arm?"


    "That there''s more beneath them than marble and dice," he answered. "You said it wasn''t about gaming revenue."


    "It never was," Donald murmured. He gestured toward the small monitor beside him. A touch of the keyboard brought up a digital map on the monitor.


    Gillian narrowed his eyes, staring at the image on the screen: they were blueprints of old properties under Golden Hay''s name.


    "Those casinos were grandfathered into zones with old state exemptions. Land rights, federal spillover clauses... even insurance guarantees no one''s bothered to audit in years."


    His voice hardened. "Albert Hayes buried them in that company like a snake hiding eggs. But I''ve tracked every one of them. I''ll bleed the value out of those properties before I die."


    Gillian remained quiet. His father rarely mentioned his illness, so this meant this was very serious.


    Donald looked at him again. "When I go, they''ll assume I made all this effort for ego. That I wanted to go out with a crown on my head. But they''ll be wrong. I did it... for you."


    Gillian''s throat tightened.


    "I''m not trying to own Golden Hay," he said. "I''m trying to absorb what matters. Strip out the gold veins and melt them into our foundation. Franchise and Golden ¡ª joined under you."


    He motioned for his son to sit. Gillian did, folding his legs with quiet grace.


    "They will come for you, Gillian," he said. "Grant, the Mooneys, even that boy Darren if he figures it out. But I''ve spent decades playing long games. I laid every stone."


    Gillian met his gaze without flinching. "Then I''ll walk the path you built. I won''t fail you."


    Donald smiled ¡ª a real one this time, fragile and flickering.


    "Good," he said. "Because this empire isn''t being passed down, my son. It''s being forged into your hands. Our family has lived longer than any left in this wretched city. They might have forgotten about us, but now it''s left to you to claim it all. And claim it all... with force."


    ----------


    Far away from there, inside the corporate areas of Los Alverez, Golden Hay HQ rose high to the sky, one of the biggest skyscrapers in the entire city.


    Inside, the boardroom pulsed with quiet arrogance.


    Polished glass walls overlooked the city skyline, and a long obsidian table stretched across the room like the spine of a beast.


    Around it sat six sharply dressed men and women ¡ª lawyers, advisors, executors ¡ª with fancy briefcases open and documents mid-review.


    At the head of the table sat Vector Callahan, his silver hair slicked back, a pristine pocket square folded with mathematical precision. He tapped his pen once against the folder labeled "Asset Redistribution Proposal."


    "So," he said calmly, "with Grant out, Donald takes the casinos. Gentry gets the coastal resorts. Lang takes the parks and entertainment branches. Everything falls into place by Q3. We begin allocating others who would work under them as advisors, shares owned will increase. Grant will be entirely out of the picture since that''s what he wants."


    Murmurs of agreement followed.


    "It''s a clean sweep," said one of the women. "And with our contracts locked, no outsider can interfere."


    Vector smiled thinly. "Let''s keep it that way."


    Just then¡ª


    SLAM.


    The door burst open.


    All heads turned sharply as a young, stunning man, furious and cold, stormed into the room.


    It was Darren Steele, flanked by the daughter of Kaito Sagomoto, Daisy Chen, and Gareth Smithers''s former assistant, Rachel Teschmacher!


    Behind them was a silent, stone-faced security guard in a fitted black suit.


    For a heartbeat, no one spoke.


    Then, one of the lawyers, Andrew James, half-rose from his chair. "What the¡ª how did you get in here?" he hissed.


    Vector''s eyes narrowed. "Mr. Steele. You dare come here! This is our boardroom! A private session. You have no¡ª"


    "I have no tolerance," Darren cut in, voice smooth and cold as granite. He walked forward slowly, every step echoing like a countdown. "Especially for snakes that deliver cowardly threats behind sealed envelopes."


    "Threats?" Vector pretended not to know what Darren was saying. "We did no such thing."


    Darren stopped just before the head of the table and placed a folded paper down with quiet finality ¡ª the very letter Vector had sent him.


    "You should have burned this," Darren said, voice threatening. "Because now I''m not just watching... I''m responding."


    The room tensed.


    "Hahaha! You foolish boy! You don''t know who you''re dealing with," Vector snapped, trying to keep composure. "This is a lawful internal matter¡ª"


    "You tried to intimidate me, you silver-haired bastard," Darren interrupted, calm and unblinking. "And you are targeting one of my allies. Let me make this very clear ¡ª when you move against Grant Hayes, you move against me."


    The woman, Tiana Dunham, leaned forward and asked; "And who the hell are you?"


    Darren turned to her, eyes cold. "If you had any sense you would have cut your tongue rather than to dare speak to me."


    Her blood ran cold.


    "I will show who I am, I have no problem doing it. Just pull my strings. Do it one more time, because I know every legal and corporal trouble each and everyone of you have."


    Their eyes began to flicker.


    "As long as it''s digitized, I will find out," Darren chuckled devilishly. "So make sure you clean before you dare come after me or my allies."


    He leaned slightly forward, hands resting casually on the table, yet the pressure of his words crushed the room.


    "If I see another threat... another document... another shadow pass over someone I protect¡ª I''ll file injunctions, class actions, corporate freezes, and ownership challenges so fast you''ll need AI just to keep up. Every company tied to you will be audited. Every shell asset exposed. And every last one of you..." His gaze swept the room. "...will drown under court filings and capital hemorrhages."


    Vector looked rattled, mouth twitching.


    "And if that doesn''t work," Darren said, stepping even closer, his voice dropping to a quiet razor''s edge, "I''ll do what you tried to do to me. I''ll get those secrets I promised. I''ll make you bleed from the inside ¡ª reputations ruined, partnerships dissolved, licenses revoked. You''ll be cut off before the ink on your next meeting dries."


    Silence.


    Then Daisy Chen stepped forward, calm and ruthless.


    "For the record," she said crisply, "the unauthorized threat to Mr. Steele, if exposed to court scrutiny, constitutes coercion, especially given your positions on Golden Hay''s restructuring board. That letter alone can trigger an SEC investigation into improper asset manipulation and suppression of competitive bidders."


    She looked at each of them, then directly at Vector.


    "And believe me, I''ve already drafted the subpoenas."


    Rachel handed Daisy a sleek black folder, which she dropped onto the table beside the letter. "Names. Numbers. Timelines. Go ahead, test us."


    The room sat frozen. Several board members looked pale, one visibly swallowing hard.


    Vector clenched his jaw, but said nothing.


    Darren gave one final look around. "This was your warning. Don''t touch what''s mine again."


    Then he turned.


    With a flick of his coat, he strode out of the room, flanked by Daisy, Rachel, and his silent guard.


    Rachel, unable to help herself, turned around to the lawyers with a cold look on her face. Then she mouthed the words, "Last chance," before disappearing alongside the rest through the door.


    The room remained silent, the weight of his words hanging like smoke.


    And for the first time since the plan began, they were afraid.

 Chapter 178 178: Long Game

    The glass doors of Golden Hay Empire slid shut behind them, and the wind welcomed Darren with a sharper bite than before.


    Darren walked ahead, calm and unbothered, Daisy still at his side, eyes ahead, and Rachel, going through the documents one last time.


    The adrenaline from the boardroom confrontation still lingered in the air, but Darren''s expression had already returned to stillness.


    Ding!


    ©³You have an earned a Character Bonus!©¿


    Darren looked at the notification. ''That''s good but when will I unlock a Feature then? I''m going to need one to help with this whole nonsense, I feel.''


    As they approached the black SUV, Daisy checked her phone one last time ¡ª then paused.


    Darren noticed. "Are you not coming?"


    Daisy hesitated, then looked up. "Where are we going?" she asked.


    Darren understood what the problem could be. "The contract signing is to be done at Sagomoto Offices," he replied. "I need a legal representative there and you''re the closest one right now."


    "Oh," she said anxiously. "To finalize the Delverate signing." She took a slow breath. "If you don''t mind... can I assign another representative, they will meet with you at the building."


    Darren raised a brow at her request. "You still haven''t settled things with your father?"


    She lowered her voice, glancing at Rachel. "Yes... and I don''t think... meeting like this would be the best way to see after all this time."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed slightly in understanding. "You know he desperately wants to see you, right?"


    "I know," she murmured. "It''s... complicated."


    Darren gave a slow nod. "Then don''t come. Just get a rep from our counsel office. You''ve done more than enough today."


    Daisy gave a grateful smile. "Thanks, Darren."


    He nodded once, then turned to Rachel. "Let''s move."


    They entered the car and drove to Sagomoto Wealth Offices. As soon as they arrived, just as Daisy had promised, a legal representative arrived, a young man with blonde hair and gray suit.


    He obediently followed Darren into the building.


    The elevator ride was smooth, silent ¡ª the kind of silence that only expensive buildings managed to achieve. On the top floor, as the doors slid open, a young, clumsy-looking assistant nearly tripped trying to greet them.


    "Nashville!" Darren greeted, a rare warmth in his voice.


    "Mr. Steele! Oh, wow, I wasn''t expecting¡ª uh¡ª" Nashville nearly dropped his files, fumbling to tuck it under his arm. "You''re early!"


    "Still as clumsy as ever, eh?" Darren replied dryly.


    Inside the office, Jonah and Ethan were already seated on a plush couch near the large windows, sipping matcha and chatting casually. They straightened the moment Darren stepped in.


    "Mr. Steele," Jonah greeted with a practiced smile.


    "Always a pleasure," Ethan added, though his voice held a trace of caution.


    Before Darren could respond, a door opened with a gentle chime and out came Mr. Sagomoto ¡ª the stout Chinese man with snowy white hair, a glinting gold ring, and a booming laugh that filled the office before he even said a word.


    "Darren!" he cried. "Still sharper than a sword and dressed better than my grandkids! Come here!"


    Darren shook his hand firmly. "You look younger than when I saw you last."


    Sagomoto roared with laughter. "Flattery before a deal? You have changed."


    He noticed the representative and his eyes softened. "It seems my daughter didn''t come with you," he said. "Is she well?"


    Darren''s smile faded a little. "She''s doing well. Don''t worry, she''ll talk to you when the time is right."


    Sagomoto''s eyes clouded for a moment, then he exhaled through his nose and patted Darren on the arm. "I understand. Some things take time. Come! Come! Let me finalize this deal for you!"


    He motioned for everyone to take their seats at the polished circular negotiation table.


    Rachel handed over the latest term sheet, while Sagomoto began to lead the conversation with the calm energy of a seasoned moderator. Jonah and Ethan presented their updated terms for Delverate''s valuation, product scope, and the required capital injection.


    Darren listened ¡ª then leaned forward, and that was when everything began to shift.


    "There''s one thing I believe Delverate has that most startups don''t," he began. His voice was steady but carried weight. "You''re not just building code ¡ª you''re touching future infrastructure. If you pivot right, this won''t just be analytics. It''ll be the brain of every retail chain from coast to coast."


    Jonah blinked. "You... you really think that?"


    Darren nodded. "You''ve got a skeleton here, but your platform lacks scalability. You''re focused on solving yesterday''s data problems. Let''s aim for tomorrow''s."


    He started sketching ideas. These ideas included deployment frameworks, smart integrations, predictive dashboards, modular UX. As he talked, his Passive skill, the Command Aura kicked in and it started taking effect.


    Jonah leaned in, genuinely intrigued.


    Ethan''s crossed arms loosened. "That''s... not a bad approach, actually."


    Rachel took notes silently, watching the shift.


    Even Sagomoto was intrigued by the young Investor''s ideas.


    By the end of the hour, terms were settled.


    Delverate would receive $8 million in initial capital for 26% equity, with Darren''s firm given first right of refusal on any future investment round. An executive advisor clause was added ¡ª giving Darren direct influence on product evolution.


    Sagomoto registered the deal formally through his firm. "It''s done."


    As Jonah and Ethan stood, Jonah hesitated. "You know... this feels different than I expected."


    "It is," Darren said, offering a thin smile. "That''s how it always is working with me."


    He shook both their hands.


    "Welcome to Steele Investments."


    After nodding and exchanging final greetings, they left quietly, almost respectfully, walking with less swagger than they''d come in with.


    Darren stood by the door, watching them disappear down the hallway.


    Sagomoto sealed the documents with a practiced motion and rose from his seat. "You''ve got something, Darren. You always did. We both know there''s something fishy about those boys and their contract cancellation with Sinclair Group. Why are you going ahead with the deal?"


    Darren turned to him. "The deal? What deal?"


    Sagomoto chuckled. "You are such a wild man!" He shook his hand. "Keep an eye on my daughter for me."


    Darren nodded once. "I''ll try my best, Mr. Sagomoto," then he left.


    Rachel, the legal representative and the security guard followed him.


    As the doors shut and the vehicle pulled out, Rachel glanced at Darren.


    "You told Amelia and me those two were lying. That they were sent to sabotage you, so why are you going through with it?"


    Darren adjusted his cufflinks, eyes locked on the skyline outside.


    "Rachel. Even a poisoned tree can bear fruit," he said. "Just because they tried to trick me, doesn''t mean I can''t still lock in this investment."


    He leaned back into the leather seat, calm and composed.


    "I''m playing the long game."


    The car rolled forward ¡ª and the city, none the wiser, carried on.


    "Delverate isn''t necessarily... an enemy."

 Chapter 179: Confession

    Darren had planned for a quieter day after the complicacies of the last few ones, but when he''d received the call from Ethan and Jonah about wanting to discuss something, he decided to make use of his rather free schedule.


    Especially, because he had a good idea what this was going to be about.


    As usual, he was in his private lounge in Castle Cottage¡ª a place he had now made a home to all his private major business meetings and discussions.


    He would also use the chance to see Penelope, and talk about how she was doing.


    Now, he was waiting.


    A flicker of the firelight painted the lounge in warm tones. Evening had just begun to settle outside, casting long orange shadows across the stone walls and elegant wooden beams.


    The hum of muted jazz played from a corner speaker, just loud enough to fill the silence, but soft enough to be forgotten.


    Darren Steele sat in one of the deep leather chairs near the hearth, legs crossed, a glass of untouched bourbon resting on the side table.


    Across from him, Rachel scrolled calmly through a digital ledger on her computer, highlighting upcoming funding release dates and capital movements. She paused only when the door creaked open.


    The pioneers of Delvarate, Jonah and Ethan, stepped in, looking less like tech entrepreneurs and more like nervous interns summoned to the principal''s office. Ethan gave a tight smile. Jonah nodded anxiously.


    Too lazy to stand up, Darren simply gestured toward the chairs in front of him. "Welcome boys. I was surprised when I got the call. You asked for this meeting."


    "We did," Jonah said, clearing his throat. "And... we''re grateful you agreed to see us."


    "We won''t waste your time," Ethan added quickly. "This isn''t about valuations or equity structure."


    Rachel raised a brow but remained quiet.


    "Everything you have told us, Mr. Steele, we agree with a thousand percent. Everything."


    "Jonah and I, we''ve never met someone, talk more of an investor, have a similar trajectory, goal and passion for our product like you do, Mr Steele."


    "Your ideas. Your vision. Everything you said yesterday. It has inspired us."


    Darren looked at the two of them, half-smiling. "Get this boat to shore, boys. What exactly are you saying here?"


    They both looked at each other and shared a sigh.


    "It makes this situation even more difficult."


    Darren forged a frown. "You''re not canceling the contract, are you?"


    "No. No. No." Ethan replied. "We''re actually doing the opposite."


    Darren moved his gaze from one to the other, then shrugged. What was it?


    "It''s about the truth," Jonah said. "About everything."


    Darren''s gaze sharpened. He leaned back slightly, folding his hands together.


    Jonah took a breath. "You told us that if there was anything in our legal structure that could hurt you, we should let you know."


    Darren grimaced, but nodded his head. "I did."


    "The news about Sinclair Group dropping us. You recall how sudden it was?"


    Darren said nothing.


    "That was... true," Jonah continued. "But not because we were victims. It was part of the setup."


    "Ryan Anders approached us one week ago," Ethan cut in, sounding like he''d rehearsed this. "He promised us money, corporate backing, and a large investment fund increase . All we had to do was follow the plan."


    Darren was silent for a while, looking at the two of them as he swallowed the information.


    "And this plan..." he finally spoke, his voice smoother than expected. "It was to bait me."


    Jonah nodded. "We were supposed to get you to sign a contract filled with hidden traps¡ª things that would only activate after your investment went through. Legal entanglements. IP disputes. Licensing landmines that would destroy your company''s credibility, including your biggest asset, Trendteller."


    "The Sinclairs had nothing to do with it," Ethan muttered bitterly, "It was Ryan Anders and a man named Cyrus Weller. They wanted to ruin your name with our fall."


    Darren took a long breath and glanced toward the flames. "I''ve always known."


    That made both men blink.


    "You¡ª"


    "Yes," Darren said calmly. "The deals we signed, none of them were real, they were just parodies of what the contract would actually look like."


    Jonah rubbed the back of his neck. "So you were just pretending to go through with it?"


    "I wanted to see what kind of men you were," Darren replied. "If you''d follow through with the sabotage or not. I assumed you wouldn''t resist the money."


    Silence. Until Ethan spoke, voice lower now. "We would''ve. Probably. But something shifted after that day. You spoke like someone who actually saw the future in what we made. Not just in the software ¡ª in us."


    Jonah nodded slowly. "You believed in the idea more than we did."


    Darren smirked. He wasn''t sure about all that. Delvarate was a masterpiece of a product, but all that they were talking about was a result of the Command Aura skill.


    "And as for Ryan?" Ethan continued. "He never even read our final update. Sinclair didn''t even send a tech guy. We were just a pawn. But with you¡ª"


    "You wanted to be more than pawns," Darren said, cutting him off. "You wanted to be partners."


    They both nodded.


    Jonah reached into his coat and pulled out a crisp, bound document. "We removed the traps. Every clause Ryan added. We rewrote the agreement and had it notarized with a neutral third party. Here."


    He handed the file over.


    Rachel took it, flipping quickly through the pages, her trained eyes scanning every line. Her lips pressed into a line.


    "It''s clean," she said. "Legally sound. They gutted the sabotage."


    Darren took the file and rested it on the table. "You understand what you''re admitting to, right?"


    Jonah swallowed, glancing at his partner. "Yeah."


    "You deliberately attempted to hurt a company¡ª mine. That alone justifies legal action, even if you didn''t go through with it."


    "We know," Ethan said. "But we''re coming clean. And we have no excuses."


    Darren looked at them, letting the silence stretch just long enough for discomfort to take root.


    Then he nodded once.


    "Fine. You want to start over?" His tone darkened. "You''ll pay for the privilege."


    Jonah stiffened.


    Darren continued, "Your funding pool drops 40%. That''s the price of trying to sabotage me."


    Ethan frowned. "That''s... a heavy cut."


    "Be glad I''m not gutting you completely," Darren replied, standing now, voice harder. "I don''t need dreamers who crumble under pressure. If you fold that easily for Ryan, what happens when someone bigger comes?"


    He let the words settle before leaning slightly closer. "But you''re lucky. Because I do need visionaries. And right now, you two are the only ones who understand the code and the culture behind Delverate. If you really do respect my leadership and value my vision, then you wouldn''t mind taking a cut for your crimes if it assures a sound partnership for years."


    The two looked at each other, nodded at once and turned to Darren. "You''re right. Jonah and I have thought about this a lot. We agree to your deal."


    Rachel was already sending a notice to legal. "New contract will be registered by tonight. Welcome to Steele Investments ¡ª for real this time."


    Jonah exhaled. "Thank you."


    "Don''t thank me," Darren said. "Just don''t give me a reason to regret it."


    Darren decided to do the public announcement later that night.


    In the press conference with beautiful fluorescent lights, Darren stood before a cluster of media drones and digital reporters.


    Rachel was the one to announce the partnership.


    "Today," she said with an elated formal voice, "Steele Investments finalizes its deal with Delverate¡ª a tech firm I believe will help redefine how data empowers small businesses."


    She paused for emphasis.


    "You may remember this company. Sinclair Group tried to cancel them just days ago, blind to the potential that technology is certain to have in the future. But here at Steele Investments, we don''t cancel potential¡ª we amplify it."


    "That being said, everyone at Steele Investments would like to welcome Delvarate into our team of portfolio companies and business allies!"


    Camera lights flashed as Darren stood with a hidden victorious look on his face.


    ---


    Meanwhile, in Ryan Anders'' Office


    "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"


    "Haaaaa! Ha! Ha!"


    Ryan laughed like a mad man, falling over his office couch and almost spilling wine on his tailored grey blazer.


    "Look at his face. Look at his dumb face! He thinks it''s real! He thinks he really signed them. Ha! Ha! Ha!"


    He raised his phone and tapped out a message to Ethan and Jonah.


    ''Good work. Now sit tight. Show begins tomorrow.''


    He let out a victorious sigh of relief. "Oh my! I have you now, Darren Steele!"

 Chapter 180: Death, Taxes, and Taking Ls to Darren

    The next morning, Ryan got up from bed with excitement, showered with excitement and got dressed with the same jolly emotion, leaving all his maids who were used to seeing him otherwise, confused.


    Stepping into his Ferrari, he drove to the Los Alverez headquarters for Moon Wealth Management Offices ¡ª his lair.


    Stepping out, he greeted the employee who had arrived at the same time as him, stunning her. Then he greeted the security men by the door, leaving them too shocked to even greet back.


    Inside the building itself, he walked in a rhythmic style, singing a song to himself as he sauntered past his employees and customers, drawing glances and stares from everyone.


    Today was a good day.


    Today was a wonderful day!


    Why? Because today was the day he would finally take Darren Steele down! He was so sure of it!


    Everyone watched as he climbed the short steps and past a door that led to the administrative areas of the tower.


    "Is boss high or something?" colleagues whispered to each other.


    "It''s either that or he finally got laid!"


    The door made a click sound after placing his ID on the scanner. After, Ryan Anders stepped inside, a cup in hand and arrogance practically radiating off his designer coat.


    The marble lobby gleamed, silent and cold, reflecting the calm before what he believed would be a satisfying storm.


    He gave a nod to the security desk, stepped into the executive lift, spun around and danced thriller before tapping the numbers impatiently. The lift closed and began to climb.


    Ryan danced for a while longer in the elevator as he waited. But soon, it arrived at the thirty-seventh floor.


    The doors slid open with a soft chime.


    "Good morning, sir!" his assistant appeared, waiting for him with a frantic expression on her face.


    "Britney!" Ryan exclaimed. "Boy is it good to see you!"


    "Uhm... thank you, sir."


    He handed her the coffee cup. "Hazelnut, hot," he said to his assistant without looking. "No cream this time. Get it right."


    "On it, sir!" Britney took the cup and scurried into the elevator so she could get him a hot drink, though she was rather taken aback by his cheerful attitude.


    She knew something wrong would happen soon.


    Ryan entered his office ¡ª a sleek, glass-walled sanctum with a panoramic view of the city ¡ª and tossed his coat onto the back of his chair. The skyline glittered, and he smiled at it like a man who owned the day.


    "Moments before I finally... finally have my hands on Darren Steele and take back my Amelia!"


    Ryan moved to his desk, still grinning. He set his cup down, cracked his knuckles, and turned on his main display on his computer.


    "Let''s see what happens when the golden boy realizes he''s neck-deep in quicksand," he muttered.


    Going through his files, he arrived at Investment Management, and searched for a while before finding Sinclair Group.


    He opened their startup portfolio. Navigated to the "Legacy Legal Traps" folder. Selected Delverate Contract - Enacted Draft. His grin widened.


    Click.


    Nothing.


    Click again.


    "File not found."


    His brows creased. What does that mean? What does it mean by file not found?


    Gritting his teeth, he decided to back out and try to search manually.


    But even after taking his time and carefully going through all the documents, he couldn''t find the Legal Traps he''d placed in the company.


    There was no trap clause either. No activation sequence. Just a sterile document labeled "Dissolution Confirmed: Delverate Partnership Terminated", time-stamped three days ago.


    "...No," he whispered. His heart fell into his stomach, and then again into his bladder, when he saw what came next.


    With his fingers flying, Ryan opened the partnership log.


    ''Status: Transferred to Steele Investments.''


    He froze. Then slowly stood.


    "What the hell...?"


    He flipped to the media tab.


    LIVE NEWS ALERT: "Steele Investments Secures Delverate in Surprise Deal."


    "Yes, but it''s not supposed to be real! The legal traps! Where are they? I''m supposed to activate them today and completely ruin him! Where are they?!!"


    Ryan''s face twisted. He nearly knocked his mug off the desk as he reached for his phone.


    Text log opened:


    Sent: Yesterday, 9:17 PM


    To: Ethan and Jonah


    Good work. Now sit tight. Show begins tomorrow.


    His hands trembled. Neither of them had replied.


    Why?


    "They flipped," he muttered, his body shaking with mad rage. "Those bastards flipped on me! They dared flip on me!"


    He slammed his desk with a fist. "How the f¡ª"


    He grabbed his phone and dialed Ethan.


    Straight to voicemail.


    Jonah''s number gave the same result.


    He began to pace around his office like a man going insane, staring at the ground like it had answers. "No. No. No. No. How does he keep getting away with this?!"


    "Today was supposed to be it! My day! I was supposed to ruin him today! How did it happen? How did he just end up shitting on my face and making away with the portfolio company of one of my top clients!"


    "Hell! The Sinclairs are going to be furious!"


    His voice rose. "Did they confess? Did Darren force them to? No ¡ª no, this was planned. That bastard knew."


    His assistant peeked through the door, still expecting the new cheerful boss. "Sir? I''ve got the cover. Should I¡ª"


    "Get out!"


    She hurried out with a terrified face and the door slammed shut.


    Ryan paced once, then stopped dead.


    "If he''s already sealing companies like this... then he''s building something. He keeps defeating me and keeps getting stronger as he does it! I thought my other scheme would keep him busy enough that he wouldn''t notice anything!"


    "But he did! He always does!"


    He turned back to his desk, face pale but burning with fury.


    "I need to strike now. Before this gets worse."


    He picked up his phone again, shaking off the rage just enough to press the contact.


    It rang once.


    Twice.


    Then the voice from the other end responded, "Gillian Henderson speaking."


    Ryan cooled down his heavy panting. "You have the go ahead order, Gillian. Push on the Golden Hay casinos. I don''t care how. Be brutal."


    There was a pause.


    Ryan''s voice sharpened. "You hear me, Gillian? Push hard on them! I want Darren Steele caught cleaning this mess, so I can go full strike on his damned company. Sink his attention. I want headlines. I want chaos. I want him scrambling to breathe. He wouldn''t know what hit him!"


    Gillian didn''t say anything for a moment. His fingers straightened his collar as he stood before the imposing, glass-paneled entry of Golden Hay HQ.


    His pale brown eyes scanned the building, jaw steady, expression unreadable.


    "The brutality, Mr. Anders" Gillian responded under his breath, eyes fixed ahead, "has already started."


    He stepped inside and the doors closed behind him with a cold finality.

 Chapter 181: Silent Coup

    Once he got in, he stepped into the elevator, not waiting to exchange greetings with those interested in meeting him.


    The lift took him to the 34th floor of Golden Hay Headquarters, where an eerie stillness hung in the air.


    It was morning, but the tranquil hush of a peaceful dawn was completely absent, rather, a disquieting silence that crawled beneath the skin reigned inside, heavy with the weight of secrets being shuffled behind closed doors.


    They were all still reeling from Darren Steele ''s threats a few days ago, and the takeover had been put on a temporary hold.


    Gillian Henderson entered the room, standing at the heart of this storm. A quiet storm, rather.


    He saw the board members, assistants, legal counsels, and financial auditors sitting in silence, those that moved did it like specters, their steps purposeful yet restrained, hiding their urgency and anxiety.


    With a tsk, Gillian stepped into the fray, the cuffs of his slate-gray suit catching the light as he adjusted them with a silent egotistical swagger.


    As he strode through the central hall, the sea of executives parted subtly before him, their movements not born of fear but of something far more potent¡ª recognition. Those sitting followed his movements with eyes locked directly at him.


    They knew who he was now, not merely a name on a corporate ledger, but a force that had reshaped the game before most had even realized it was being played.


    The Hendersons, formally the Hickmans, the Holters, the Homarians.


    The family had lived for generations and generations of wealth. All of it now rested on Gillian Henderson''s shoulders, and with their stocks failing, unless Gillian claimed Golden Hay''s casinos, the great Henderson lineage of wealth would perish.


    Gillian glanced at the inner boardroom.


    Inside of it, the scent of espresso filled the air, while everyone murmured of strategy and business.


    Marla Gentry stood at the tall window, her silhouette sharp against the cityscape beyond, a demitasse cup poised at her lips as two legal staffers whispered urgently in her ear.


    Across the long, polished table, a young legal advisor, Keith Lang hunched over a computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he reviewed contract adjustments.


    He frowned with unease. "I don''t like how fast this is moving," he said, his voice swallowed by the room''s tension. "The assets aren''t even cold, Marla. We''re carving up Albert''s empire before the ink''s dry."


    Marla''s eyes flicked to him, one brow arching with a mix of amusement and impatience. "Speed is how we win, Lang. That casino wing was Albert''s golden goose, and if we waste time debating ethics, Darren Steele will have it in his pocket before we can even file Form 9B. You know how this works."


    Her tone was clipped, pragmatic, a reminder that sentiment had no place in the high-stakes chess they were playing.


    Keith pursed his lips. "I don''t know why you all assume that this Darren guy wants the casinos or anything at all."


    "It doesn''t matter what he wants. He''s made a threat to us. We have to move in kind before he has a clue of what''s coming."


    The soft click of the door broke the exchange. Keith and Marla turned around and the entire room fell still as Gillian entered.


    He had his long hair tied to a ponytail, his right hand wielding a briefcase while the left was placed on his tie.


    He moved quietly, having already mapped the terrain and made his plans. His gaze swept the room before settling on Marla. "Marla, I assume you''ve seen the restructured cascade order?" he asked her. weight to fill the silence.


    Marla released her tight expression. "We did. It''s... bold."


    "Bold?" he asked her. "It should be clean... and lawful."


    "Yes," she agreed. "It is both of those things."


    Gillian held her gaze for a while, making sure she understood the gravity of this situation.


    "The moment the final vote goes through, my father will have full oversight of the casino properties. Every piece needs to and will fall into place."


    Keith glanced up from his tablet, skepticism etched into his features. "Assuming Grant doesn''t block it. He''s got enough pull to stall this for weeks."


    Gillian''s lips curved into a subtle, almost imperceptible smile, and he placed a slim folder on the table with a deliberate slowness that drew every eye. "He won''t," he said simply.


    The legal team, led by Vector Callahan leaned in.


    Vector opened the folder, his brows lifting as he scanned the contents. "Legal grievances? Conflict of interest allegations?" He was surprised, evident in the sound of his voice, but still tempered by caution.


    "They''ve been filed anonymously," Gillian explained. "Just enough to trigger an internal audit. Grant won''t be allowed to vote until it clears, and that could take weeks¡ª long after the decision is made."


    Keith let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. "You''ve thought of everything."


    "I don''t leave openings," Gillian replied, matter-of-fact. "And I don''t play games I can''t win."


    "And what about this Darren Steele?"


    Gillian turned to Marla with a cold expression on his face. "Up until now, he''s been used to winning and getting what he wants."


    He cracked his neck. "I promise it will be different this time."


    -------


    Hours later, the shareholder chamber buzzed with the low hum of anticipation, its vast space filled with the rustle of tailored suits and the murmur of voices as a rare full quorum gathered.


    The air was charged, every glance and whispered aside heavy with the knowledge that this was no ordinary meeting.


    An executive at the head of the room cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the din as he read the formal vote proposal. "Motion 77C: To transfer all primary oversight of the Golden Hay casino division to Donald Henderson, acting through Henderson Franchise Holdings, contingent upon full divestment of Grant Hayes due to unresolved legal review."


    Gillian sat near the center of the room, his posture relaxed yet unyielding, his hands folded calmly in his lap, his eyes fixed forward.


    He was a still point in the storm, untouched by the undercurrents of doubt or dissent swirling around him.


    The call for votes came, and hands began to rise¡ª one, then two, then a cascade of them, three, seven, ten, twelve, each a silent testament to the path Gillian had paved. He did not raise his hand; he had no need to. The final vote was cast, and the executive''s voice rang out, steady and final. "Motion carried."


    A swell of murmurs rippled through the chamber, a mix of relief, unease, and reluctant awe. The throne of Golden Hay''s casino empire had shifted hands, and the transfer was as clean as Gillian had promised.


    In the hallway outside, Gillian stood alone at a private window, the city sprawling beneath him like a map of conquered territory.


    A quiet breeze slipped through the glass panels, cool against his skin, as he gazed out over the lower plaza. His assistant, Ella James approached. "Sir, it''s done. The legal transfer process begins tomorrow morning."


    "Cancel it," Gillian said coldly.


    That was unexpected.


    Ella blinked, caught off guard by the order. "Sir?"


    "Delay the final filings by seventy-two hours," he clarified, his gaze never leaving the horizon.


    "But... we have the votes¡ª"


    "I know." His tone was cold and clever. "Let them believe it hasn''t finalized yet."


    "Why?" she pressed, confusion creeping into her voice.


    Gillian''s eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of something predatory flickering within them. "Because a storm is coming. And I''d rather seal the vault once the rats finish running."


    Far from the gleaming heights of the 34th floor, in the dim solitude of Grant Hayes''s office, an unsettling stillness reigned.


    The lights were off, the door slightly ajar, as if abandoned in haste.


    The desk was a frozen tableau of chaos ¡ªlegal appeals, funding allocations, stakeholder notices scattered like leaves, all unattended. A coffee cup sat half full, its contents long gone cold.


    This was Grant Hayes''s office, but there was no sign of him, no trace of the teenage boy who held the reins of Golden Hay''s empire.


    The throne was no longer up for debate. It had already changed hands, and the new king stood silent, his plans unfolding like a shadow across the board.


    Undeniably, Gillian Henderson was a threat.

 Chapter 182: Darrens Biggest Challenge

    As Gillian Henderson''s clever plans were slowly coming to fruition, the Steele Complex and its residents were... celebrating.


    The early sunlight streamed through the towering windows of the domescraper, its golden rays glinting off polished steel surfaces and casting intricate patterns across the sleek black marble floors.


    The air carried the buoyant charge of triumph, a palpable sense of victory following Darren Steele''s recent acquisition of Delverate, a coup that had solidified his empire''s dominance.


    But this celebration was not for everyone.


    Darren was still troubled, rightfully so as there were things that hadn''t been straightened out yet.


    He stood in the heart of the operations wing, arms folded tightly across his chest, his gaze fixed on the expansive, curved data board dominating the wall.


    It was Trendteller''s growth, and even as worrisome as the slight dip appeared to be, it wasn''t what Darren was presently thinking about.


    Something was amiss, elsewhere. A faint discord rippled beneath the surface of what should have been a flawless morning to him.


    Behind him, the urgent collaboration of his employees were present, Rachel, Amelia, Daisy and Vance huddled together, their voices a steady undercurrent as they navigated a labyrinth of dashboards, legal reports, and fund-tracking screens, each tap and swipe a thread in the tapestry of their investigation.


    Rachel''s brow furrowed as she studied her computer, her finger hovering over a blinking line of data that seemed to pulse with warning. "There it is again," she pointed out, concern in her voice. "That delay. We sent a routine audit query to the Golden Hay shareholder registry. It''s standard procedure, and they should''ve been back in under five hours. But it''s been two days, and nothing."


    Amelia spun her screen toward the group, her expression equally grim. "It''s not just the registry. Grant Hayes was slated to sign off on a financial restoration request for his frozen assets. We expected board interference, maybe some pushback, but now the motion''s vanished. It''s like it was never logged at all, scrubbed clean from the system."


    Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as the team exchanged glances, each grappling with the growing sense that they were staring at the edges of a carefully orchestrated shadow play.


    ''What the hell is going on at Golden Hay HQ?'' Darren thought to himself.


    He turned from the data board, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "No word from Grant?" he asked.


    Rachel shook her head. "Nothing. He missed his last scheduled check-in, didn''t show for the restoration review, and even his assistant''s gone silent. It''s like he''s dropped off the grid."


    Darren crossed to his desk in a few purposeful strides, his fingers tapping a rapid sequence on the keyboard. "Run Golden Hay''s recent legal activity," he instructed. "Flag anything tied to the casino division."


    Within moments, a cascade of files began to scroll across the screen, each line a fragment of a larger, more troubling picture. Vance leaned closer, his eyes scanning the data, and let out a soft curse under his breath. "Jesus, they''ve been busy."


    Busy was an understatement. It was as if an unseen hand had slipped into the very framework of Golden Hay''s operations, rewiring its structure with heartless precision.


    The files revealed a flurry of activity¡ª motions filed, agreements restructured, and assets quietly realigned¡ª all executed with a stealth that bordered on artistry.


    "Why are they doing this?" Amelia muttered in disbelief. "That poor kid. They''re trying to take everything from him."


    Darren felt his blood boiling, feeling nothing but utter disgust and rage.


    Daisy pulled out a file from the stack she had with her. "I pulled this from the legal wire," she said, tossing the file onto Darren''s desk, where it landed with a soft thud. "An anonymous motion was filed to suspend Grant''s voting rights, citing a conflict of interest review. It''s just enough red tape to sideline him. It is surprisingly legal, and was done quietly... without a trace."


    Darren''s jaw tightened, a muscle flickering beneath the surface as he absorbed the information. "They''re freezing him out while we''re still riding the high of the Delverate win," he said angrily. "Somehow it feels like this was planned."


    He flipped open the file, his eyes scanning the dense legal text, each word confirming the depth of the maneuver.


    "You think Delvarate and this are somehow connected?" Amelia asked. "Ryan?"


    Vance tapped at his tablet, pulling up the signer logs. "That wouldn''t be a stretch. The lawyers did choose MWMO to assist them with this. And..." He paused, his fingers freezing on the screen as a name emerged from the data. "Henderson''s name is all over the parent holding of the casino chain. Franchise Casinos and Hotels is also managed by MWMO. Also, as we''re talking, the transfer vote''s already passed."


    Darren''s fingers drummed angrily against the desk.


    "Donald Henderson hasn''t been seen in months," Rachel ventured. "Could he be working this behind the scenes?"


    Vance shook his head, his expression darkening. "Not fully."


    He pulled up a profile, the name flashing across his screen in stark, undeniable clarity: Gillian Henderson.


    "His son. I believe he''s the executor."


    Darren stared at the image of Gillian Henderson on the screen, remembering playing Corporate Conquest against him that night in the bar. Who knew they would cross paths like this again one day.


    "Rachel," he called, his voice cutting through the low murmur of the team, "I want you to draft a status request to Golden Hay''s investor relations office. Inquire about the casino asset chain, but keep it casual¡ª vague enough not to tip our hand."


    "Got it," Rachel replied, already jotting notes on her paper.


    "Daisy, Vance," Darren continued, his gaze shifting to them, "start preparing a motion to challenge the legal basis for Grant''s voting freeze. I want a three-angle argument¡ª attack it from procedural failure, internal bias, and breach of fiduciary responsibility. Make it ironclad."


    "On it," Daisy said, exchanging a glance with Vance. "But it won''t hold water unless we have someone on the inside backing us. We need an ally within Golden Hay''s ranks."


    "Then we find one," Darren shot back, his tone brooking no argument. "Whatever it takes."

 Chapter 183: Grants Disappearance

    That evening, in the solitude of his private office, Darren sat on his chair, the compiled legal files spread before him like a battlefield map.


    His eyes moved methodically across the pages, parsing the dense legalese with a quiet, unrelenting focus. On one page, he paused, his breath catching as he spotted a shadow of a clause buried deep within the terms of Grant''s frozen assets.


    Darren had been using the system all day to search for loopholes. It led him down this path, and now he saw why.


    A contingency trigger.


    Subtle and insidious, one he hadn''t noticed before.


    For a flash of a moment, it all made sense, although he didn''t know exactly what. So he went through it with the system again.


    Ding!


    ©³Hidden Trigger ¡úLikely authorized by Gillian Henderson. This clause was placed to redirect casino management if Grant fails to respond within 96 hours.©¿


    Darren''s breath froze for a second. 96 hours.


    It had been a while and they were yet to get a hold of Grant.


    Slowly, the weight of the discovery settled over him like a shroud. "He''s using the frozen assets as a fuse," he murmured to himself.


    With urgency, he burst out of his office to Rachel''s. "Have you gotten word from Grant?!"


    She shot her head up. "Still no response, sir." she reported. "But there''s something else. A legal insider flagged it, it was off the record. It appears someone''s been moving fast behind closed doors. Reassignments, payouts, staff disappearances."


    "Disappearing staff?" Darren asked, his voice deceptively quiet, though his eyes burned with scary intensity.


    Rachel nodded. "People loyal to Grant are being restructured. Silently. It''s like they''re erasing his footprint."


    Darren darted his gaze around, a rush of realization hitting him. "Gillian Henderson," he whispered with self-reproach. "I''ve underestimated him all this time. He''s been the mastermind of this, acting like a shadow operating under Donald''s banner."


    He turned to Rachel, eyes burning with fear. "And we have no idea where Grant Hayes is!"


    -------------


    Indeed, after so long since this war started, Darren Steele was finally right. About both things.


    Gillian Henderson was the mastermind, and no one knew where Grant Hayes was.


    Well, no one except Gillian Henderson himself.


    Two days earlier, the conference room on the 28th floor of Golden Hay Headquarters offered shelter for Grant Hayes and his thoughts.


    He sat alone at the long, obsidian table, his gaze fixed on the empty chair across from him. His assistant, Owen, had been summoned to the legal department hours ago and had yet to return. Grant glanced at his watch, the seconds ticking past with agonizing slowness, each moment deepening the unease that coiled in his chest.


    Three hours had passed since Owen''s departure, and the absence felt less like a delay and more like a deliberate excision.


    So, he suspected that something was wrong.


    Tired of waiting, Grant attempted to rise, but was halted by the advance of the security detail stationed at the door.


    Their presence, unobtrusive yet unyielding, was a stark departure from the deference he was accustomed to as chairman. "Mr. Hayes," one of the guards said. "We''ve been instructed to ask you to remain here until further notice. Legal is reviewing the motion you submitted."


    Grant narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about! I''m the only one who gives instructions and that motion was submitted yesterday," he said, getting worried.


    The guard''s expression remained impassive. "The board has overridden your authority sir. You are to wait for confirmation."


    The words landed like a physical blow, and in the beat of silence that followed, Grant felt the ground shift beneath him. Slowly, he sank back into the chair, his mind racing.


    Something was definitely wrong here and he couldn''t just help it. It clawed at his skin.


    And so... just in case something happened to him, Grant made a very smart move.


    ---------


    In the present day, the boardroom of the Steele Complex was awash in the cold, clinical light of its display wall, where a dozen reports flickered like ghosts, each one a fragment of a puzzle that refused to resolve.


    Darren Steele stood at the head of the room, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the data before him.


    The reports painted a chilling picture: no communications, no public records, no updates¡ª Grant Hayes had vanished, not just from the corporate landscape but from the very systems that defined his existence.


    Rachel leaned forward in her chair, her fingers gripping the edge of the table as she spoke. "His calendar''s been cleared, his staff access revoked. It''s as if someone reached into the system and wiped him clean, like he was never there."


    Amelia''s expression was grim as she added her findings. "I''ve called every close family member, and they all say the same thing. They haven''t heard from him in three days, and haven''t received a single call or message. That''s not like Grant¡ª he''s meticulous about staying in touch, no matter the pressure."


    Daisy, standing near the display wall, held up a legal notification. "Golden Hay issued a public statement this morning: ''Grant Hayes has voluntarily stepped back to handle personal matters.'' This is getting worse, people. It''s a neat little narrative, and if they''re lying like this then it''s the clear opening move to erase him from his own legacy."


    They all shared worried glances, but even more worried gazes at Darren, who just stood, mind elsewhere, saying nothing.


    ---


    Within the confines of Golden Hay Headquarters, Grant had been relocated to a smaller, windowless office, a forgotten corner of the building once used to store archival paper files.


    The room was a study in austerity: no computer, no keycard access, only a solitary landline, a water dispenser, and a plain table that seemed to mock the grandeur of his former domain.


    Eighteen year old Grant sat at the table, rubbing his temples as he fought to steady his breathing.


    He''d been in this room for nearly two days, deprived from everything that could bring help his way or help him escape.


    What was it about his father''s assets that they wanted so much?! How could they do all of this to him just because of money!


    A sharp knock on the door broke the silence, and Grant looked up as one of Gillian Henderson''s aides entered, a tight, perfunctory smile plastered across his face.


    "Mr. Henderson wanted me to inform you that your board privileges are now under audit," the aide said, his tone edged with a veiled threat.


    Grant rose to his feet. "You work for Gillian!"


    The aide''s smile didn''t waver. "Yes. You should know the best thing to do now is stay silent. Don''t force the hand that''s already won."


    With that, he turned and left, the door closing with a soft click that echoed like a gavel in the small room. Grant stood motionless, the walls seeming to close in tighter.


    How could Gillian have done this to him?


    Gillian was a... friend.


    He fell to his knees, resting by the wall as memories flickered through his mind. ''Had Gillian always been this way?''


    ''Was I blind?''

 Chapter 184: Restore the Heir

    Darren felt guilty, uncontrollably so. He remembered telling Grant that he was not helping him from the goodness of his heart, but because he wanted something in return.


    Could it be that was what Grant was thinking now? That Darren had abandoned him because there was nothing to gain in such a business war?


    He had barely slept that night, and had done a deep study on Gillian Henderson, including a Personal Insight Protocol that gave these results:


    ©³Personal Insight Protocol is complete©¿


    ©³Information on subject is as follows©¿


    ©³Full Name: Gillian Arcturus Henderson


    Age: 29


    Occupation: Executive Director, Franchise Casinos & Hotels; Executor of Golden Hay Casino Division


    Education: Eirenhall Academy of International Business; Henderson Private Institute (Valedictorian)


    Awards: Empire Rising Strategist Medal (2008), EISA Boardroom Vanguard Honor (2010), 30 Titans Under 30 (2010)


    Known Associates: Donald Henderson (father), Charles Wynne (counsel), Ryan Anders (strategic ally)


    Disposition: Calculated, unemotional, legacy-driven


    Psychological Flag: Exhibits low emotional resonance; high adaptability under duress


    Current Location: Golden Hay HQ, Arligent Square, Floor 34


    Legal Status: No public liabilities; active proxy on 17 internal boards


    System Flag: "This subject is a silent architect of takeover. Proceed with absolute precision."©¿


    After, he had called Rachel, when he was certain, he was coming to some sort of a plan.


    "Rachel, get me the statement logs from Golden Hay''s press office. I want to see who signed that announcement about Grant stepping back."


    "I will send it to your inbox," came her prompt reply.


    Once Darren got it, he opened the file, his eyes scanning the document until they landed on the signer''s name: Gillian Henderson.


    The confirmation was as expected as it was infuriating, a signature that tied the threads of this conspiracy together.


    Just then, a soft ping broke the silence, and a system notification flashed across his screen:


    ©³You have unlocked Special System Quests!©¿


    ©³First Special Quest Unlocked: Restore the Heir.©¿


    ©³Objective: Investigate and dismantle the hostile seizure of Grant Hayes''s executive rights, rescue the heir and return him to his seat.©¿


    ©³Reward: Passive Skill ¡ª Monopoly on the Law of Business (Tilts a judge on your favor for every law case regardless of the perceived crime).©¿


    Darren stared at the screen for a long moment.


    He didn''t want to save Grant for personal gain, but given that he already was going to, that was an extremely valuable reward.


    -----------


    War room action began.


    This time, Darren was fully focused on the goal, not letting the emotion or frustration get to him.


    Around the table sat Amelia, Rachel, and Vance, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of computers and scattered files, each marked by a weary focus that spoke of hours spent wrestling with the unraveling threads of Golden Hay''s machinations.


    Daisy was standing, mapping something out on the board.


    Darren stood at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the data with a calm resolve. "They have managed to get Grant off the board, we have to accept that," he began. "Now we deal with it."


    The words were not a lament but a directive, a call to action that set the tone for the battle ahead.


    Daisy tapped her map she drew. "I''ve initiated discreet contact with three shareholders in the B-tier pool," she explained. "They hold small stakes, individually insignificant, but if we can align them, their combined influence could sway committee votes in our favor."


    Vance leaned forward, his brow furrowing as he studied the data. "These are Golden Hay assets?" he asked, seeking clarity in the labyrinth of corporate maneuvering.


    Daisy nodded, her eyes returning to the board. "Registered to shell LLCs out of Los Alverez, even Calivernia as a whole. I traced two of them to boutique hotels and estate trusts¡ª entities with managers who can be persuaded, provided we approach them carefully."


    "Legally," Darren interjected, not lifting his gaze. "We''re not slinging mud. Not yet."


    He had to remind them that they should stay legal no matter how ruthless they planned to be. So it would come to bite them in the ass.


    Amelia turned the next page of a website on her computer. "You might want to see this," she said, flicking the data to the center display with a gesture. A complex financial spiderweb materialized, showing multiple transactions.


    "At least $70 million has moved from a dormant offshore account tied to Franchise Casinos Holdings, funneled directly into a fund bolstering Golden Hay''s legal war chest." She met Darren''s gaze, her voice heavy with implication. "Donald Henderson''s money is fueling this power grab."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed, a flicker of insight passing through them. "Correction," he said, his voice low, almost introspective. "Gillian is."


    "This was never just about control. It''s about succession. Gillian''s finishing a transfer that was already set in motion, a plan laid long before we saw the board shift."


    Vance leaned forward, his analytical mind already probing for weaknesses. "We could challenge the transaction chain," he suggested. "File a motion on franchise conflict, argue the transfers violate fiduciary duty."


    Darren shook his head. "They''ll bury us in filings until the casino transfer finalizes. A challenge won''t be enough. We need leverage¡ª something they can''t counter with paperwork or delays."


    Rachel hesitated, her fingers hovering over her laptop as she weighed her next words. "There''s someone who might have that," she said at last.


    "A name surfaced during the Sinclair probe¡ª a man who used to be Donald Henderson''s financial fixer, an ex-asset mover who orchestrated some of his most sensitive deals. He was cut off five years ago after a failed sweep in East Caligo."


    "Name?" Darren asked.


    "Cale Donovan," Rachel replied. "He vanished after Donald purged half his inner circle. Rumor has it he''s in Nevarro now, living a quiet life but strapped for cash. He might be willing to sell what he knows."


    Vance''s frown deepened, skeptical. "You want to make a deal with a ghost? A man like that could be more trouble than he''s worth."


    Darren''s gaze was unwavering. He thought about it for a while and remembered. "Amelia? You went to Nevarro some time ago. Can you find this man?"


    "Yes sir. Do you want me to approach him directly?"


    "No," Darren said, shaking his head. "Let him come to you. Give him a whisper of the offer¡ª be subtle with it, but clear enough¡ª and make sure he knows who''s listening."


    "If we get through to some of the board members, we can break this down from the inside. And Argent Security!"


    "Yes sir!" Miranda, the captain, responded.


    "Find Grant Hayes."


    "On it, sir!"


    As the team dispersed, their tasks assigned and the war room emptying, Darren remained at the head of the table, still in deep thought, hoping he wasn''t missing any part of this.


    The system dinged, and a notification appeared.


    Ding!


    ©³Special Quest: Restore the Heir.©¿


    ©³Progress: 17%.©¿


    ©³Objective: Uncover the source of the hostile asset consolidation.©¿


    ©³New Target Identified: Cale Donovan - Could help with leverage by providing information on deals with Donald Henderson.©¿


    ©³Passive Reward Upon Completion: Monopoly on the Law of Business ¡ªRegardless of the nature of the lawsuit or the severity of the accusations, this skill tilts the mindset of judges, arbitrators, or legal panels toward Darren''s side ¡ª creating subconscious bias in his favor. It doesn''t guarantee victory outright but drastically increases the likelihood of favorable rulings, lenient judgments, or dismissed charges, even in high-stakes or morally gray cases. It makes Darren nearly untouchable in court ¡ª a legal kingmaker.©¿


    ©³System advice: You''re so close! But never forget to keep eyes on your back.©¿

 Chapter 185: Fixers Offer

    It had been a tumultuous saga so far. One that already tested the depths of Darren''s resilience, mental strength and acumen.


    It began when Grant Hayes awoke to a devastating reality: his executive powers at Golden Hay had been frozen, effectively barring him from his own empire.


    The board, under the direction of Vector Callahan, had executed a swift and complete lockdown of his authority. In desperation, Grant had reached out to Darren, who had promptly assembled his war team.


    Vance and Daisy had immediately set to work drafting legal countermeasures, their rapid response aimed at countering the crisis that threatened to consume their ally.


    As Darren had delved deeper into the situation, his team had uncovered critical intelligence.


    Kara had discovered that three board members were financially linked to MWMO, a conflict of interest that presented a potential vulnerability.


    Determined to do more than just defend, Darren had vowed to strike offensively, targeting the board''s weaknesses.


    Concurrently, Gillian Henderson had met with his father, Donald Henderson, a terminally ill tycoon whose ambition remained undiminished. Donald had revealed the hidden value of Golden Hay''s casino division¡ª secret policies, land rights, and concealed financial advantages that made it a prize worth any cost.


    Gillian, resolute and calculating, had pledged to fulfill his father''s vision, vowing to eliminate all opposition, with Darren Steele as a primary target.


    Darren had taken the fight to the heart of the enemy, boldly crashing a private board meeting at Golden Hay Headquarters. Armed with intimidation, legal threats, and insights from his system, he had confronted the board directly, unsettling their confidence.


    But the audacious move seemed to have only made matters worse because the Hendersons'' control over the casino division got even tighter.


    After Ryan''s Delvarate plan fell on his face, he had called Gillian, urgently demanding that he instill more force in the take over so he could capitalize and attack Darren at a time when he expected it less.


    Gillian, proving to be more strategic than expected, had entered Golden Hay Headquarters and verified the activation of a hidden clause that would permanently exclude Grant from the company after 96 hours of silence.


    The board, swayed by Gillian''s authority, had voted to transfer the casino division to Donald Henderson''s control. Yet Gillian, with calculated patience, had delayed the final filing, a strategic choice to draw out any remaining adversaries before locking the deal in place.


    And the depth of Grant''s ordeal was finally revealed: he was confined to a small, windowless office within Golden Hay''s headquarters. He had been systematically isolated, his connections to the outside world severed.


    Gillian''s operatives had worked discreetly, methodically erasing Grant''s presence from the corporate framework. Darren and his team, piecing together the clues, had realized Grant was missing, grasping the chilling extent of Gillian''s ruthlessness.


    Amid this intensifying conflict, Darren''s system interface had presented a new quest: [Restore the Heir].


    The promised reward was a potent passive skill, [Monopoly on the Law of Business], which would tilt legal outcomes in his favor, a critical advantage in the corporate arena.


    Fueled even more by this opportunity, Darren had initiated a counter-strategy, contacting minor shareholders and tracing a $70 million transfer from Donald''s covert accounts, a financial lifeline sustaining the Hendersons'' power grab.


    And then they got the name, Cale Donovan, a former fixer for Donald Henderson, now in obscurity but potentially holding vital information to expose the Hendersons'' plans.


    Darren had tasked Amelia with locating him discreetly, and that was what she was here, once again in Nevarro, to do.


    The sky over the city was grey and quiet. Amelia stepped out of the vehicle dispatched to her by Steele Investments, her heels clicking against cracked pavement.


    She remembered the same smell this town had. Salt and rust ¡ª nothing like Los Alverez.


    Ahead stood the deteriorating structure of a seaside motel. Faded paint, shattered neon, curtains that hadn''t been drawn in years.


    This was where Cale Donovan had ended up.


    The man who once moved millions through dummy trusts, the man who had made the Henderson empire immune to tax probes, was now hiding in a room that didn''t even have working heat.


    She got to the door and knocked once.


    No answer.


    Knocked again.


    After waiting a while, she lifted her hand to knock one more time, but the door cracked open.


    "You''re prettier than I expected," said a voice. Low, tired, and deeply suspicious.


    Cale Donovan emerged from the shadows ¡ª unshaven, hunched, but with eyes sharp as hell. He didn''t invite her in. He just turned and walked away.


    "Mr Donovan. I''m happy you agreed to meet with me."


    "I''m not. Just tell me what you want."


    "Franchise Casinos screwed you," Amelia said as she stepped in. "I know it. You know it. The question is ¡ª what are you going to do about it?"


    Cale gave a dry laugh. "Hah! Is that your pitch? What a way to start, eh? And here I thought you came to blackmail me."


    "No," she replied smoothly. "Darren Steele doesn''t blackmail. He offers chances."


    "Eh. I''ve heard of the bloke. I don''t believe everything I hear though. But come in! Come in!"


    Amelia carefully entered, the security dispatched with her, joining behind her.


    The room was cold and smelled of old paper. On the table were stacks of records and faded blueprints. Cale lit a cigarette with shaky fingers, then gestured to the chair opposite, eyeing the burly man in black.


    "We spoke in depth on the phone, and I''ve had enough time to think about it. So this is what I''ll say; You wanna know what Donald Henderson buried? I''ll tell you," he said. "But I want a deal."


    "I''m listening."


    "I want a financial contract. I want out of this town. I want new ID. And I want security. Real security. Not some guy with a pistol. Someone like this hulk you''ve got over here."


    Amelia nodded. "Fair."


    He reached into a tattered briefcase and pulled out a flash drive. Then, he clicked on an ancient laptop. The screen flickered alive.


    "I don''t know if you all really understand the gravity of what you''re doing. You think you''re just fighting for Grant Hayes," Cale muttered. "But that''s not all of it. You''re standing in the way of the final consolidation. Franchise and Golden Hay. Donald''s last wish before he croaks."


    Amelia frowned. "And what is Gillian''s?"


    "Ehh... that young fucker. Gillian''s already moved." He opened a file labeled Asset Realignment: Phase III.


    On screen appeared:


    A list of dummy companies: Lanneth Holdings, Broken Star LLC, Calstone Equities.


    A diagram showing how Donald funneled casino revenue through off-book shell firms, transferring portions to Franchise-managed trusts.


    A map of international wire transfers routed through fake holding accounts in Dubai, Ontario, and Lagos.


    "This is how they''re hiding the full value of the casino vote," Cale explained. "Gillian''s redirecting the cash flow before the vote is publicly audited. Once it''s done, even if Grant returns, there''ll be nothing left to fight for."


    Amelia stared in disbelief. "How long have they been planning this?"


    "Heh. I''d say forever but you''d think I''m exaggerating." Cale leaned back. "In fact, Franchise was preparing to acquire this massive land strip in Nevarro, it was old, but was handpicked as a great land for luxury development. They wanted a new flagship casino-resort, something outside the Golden Hay brand."


    Amelia''s face paled. "What land?"


    "An offcast industrial warehouse. This guy named Brittle owned it."


    She stared. ''Brittle?''


    Was that the same warehouse that she and Ryan Anders had fought for a few weeks ago. He had been representing one of his clients, so it was Franchise Casinos.


    Cale''s eyes darkened. "What''s weird is that that dude is dead. Brittle. He died last Thursday."


    Silence.


    Amelia''s heart thudded, not certain of what she had just heard. "What?!"

 Chapter 186: Searchlight

    "If we get through to some of the board members, we can break this down from the inside. And Argent Security!"


    "Yes sir!" Marilyn, the captain, responded.


    "Find Grant Hayes."


    "On it, sir!"


    Marilyn Standard hadn''t much work to do ever since she had been assigned as the head of security for Steele Investments, but it seemed that was finally changing.


    Inside the low-lit Security Briefing Room, she was leaning forward, hands folded, eyes locked on the rotating logs across her monitor as one of her agents worked.


    The agent''s fingers moved fast; scanning, filtering, triangulating. As for Marilyn, her eyes were like a hawk''s, sharp and focused.


    The team had found a lead and she was carefully following it. If it worked, they would finally get an ''in'' for once since this madness.


    The agent jerked his head and pointed at the screen. "I''ve got something."


    Marilyn narrowed her eyes.


    Badge 48B-17, once belonging to Grant Hayes''s assistant Owen, had been signed out manually. No digital override. No automated logs. That was strange, and so they had investigated.


    This was how they''d found the single name attached to the override:


    "It says Thorne. Private Detail, Henderson Authorization."


    Marilyn straightened on her feet. Her breath misted the glass of her thermos.


    "Got you now."


    She grabbed her encrypted tablet and rushed from the room, heading straight to meet a particular person.


    Darren Steele.


    He stood by the window, jacket slung over his arm, tie loosened. His eyes were on the skyline, but his mind was far deeper, studying ways people hide wealth in companies, and the possible kinds that could be hidden.


    Then he heard a knock.


    "Come in," Darren said, removing the system interface.


    Marilyn entered, her presence clipped and professional.


    "I found him," she said.


    Darren turned slowly.


    "Where?"


    "He''s still in the HQ."


    "What? That''s unexpected."


    "I know, sir. He''s on the 28th floor. A restricted archival room flagged inactive in 2008. No security cam feeds, no maintenance logs, no ID scans for entry, except one override."


    She passed him the computer.


    A name Thorne that was authorized under Henderson.


    Darren looked at Marilyn. "He was moved?"


    "Three days ago. If we''re lucky, he''s still in the building. If not..."


    Darren didn''t wait for the rest.


    "We move tonight."


    -------------


    Hours later, a black Lincoln pulled into a private carport beneath the tower. Marilyn adjusted her contractor uniform¡ª navy shirt, fire-inspector badge clipped to her chest.


    Darren appeared beside her, he wore a subtle gray blazer and slacks, ID marked "Legal Consultant ¨C Crescent Advisory, Holdings Review."


    "The fake uniforms look real enough," he whispered to Marilyn. "Good job."


    "Thank you, sir."


    They continued forward.


    At the elevator, a young guard looked up. "Evening. You two on the audit list?"


    Darren raised a calm brow. "Safety audit. Burst pipe on 29 might''ve compromised storage vaults below. We''re checking backup servers and document archives."


    Marilyn showed her forged credentials. "Maintenance refused to go in. There''s mold exposure so this is necessary protocol."


    The guard shrugged. "Whatever. Sign in."


    They both signed and took the lift.


    As the doors shut, Darren muttered under his breath, "You''re still certain about this?"


    Marilyn didn''t flinch. "I am. Though I would feel better if you weren''t the one following me, sir. Your safety is also my concern."


    Darren narrowed his eyes. "And so is that boy''s."


    ----------


    Soon, the elevator stopped at floor 28.


    Darren and Marilyn stepped into the quiet hallway. The place smelled like dust and neglect. Motion sensors clicked as lights flickered to life.


    Squinting his eyes, Darren spotted the archival office standing at the far end.


    There was a reinforced lock. Thankfully there wasn''t a fingerprint pad, just a passcode slot and backup magnetic key entry.


    "Give me a second," Marilyn said, crouching with her toolkit once they arrived.


    Darren kept watch, acting normal like they weren''t breaking into a private room.


    "Boss, do you ever think," Marilyn asked, still working, "what kind of war this really is?"


    Darren was impassive. "A war is always going to have a winner, Marilyn," he replied. "We can''t let it be them. This kind of war buries companies and rebuilds other companies. They don''t do that to bullets. They erase people. Turn CEOs into ghosts."


    Click.


    The door opened.


    "I can''t let that happen to Grant."


    Marilyn motioned for him to join her in the archive room.


    They tiptoed inside.


    It smelled of stale coffee and dry ink. A single desk sat in the middle of the room. No bed. No comfort. Just containment.


    On the desk, there was a cracked ceramic mug with the Golden Hay logo, its contents long cold, and there was a folded suit jacket. Grant''s initials were embroidered into the inner lining.


    Darren found a notepad. On it read: "Emergency Filing: Motion to Counter Proxy Restructure ¨C Section 12C Violation."


    And then a broken gold watch. And the time was stopped at 1:42 AM.


    Darren stepped in slowly. "Grant must have done this. He broke the watch to let people know the exact time he was abducted."


    Marilyn examined the walls, then the ceiling. "Smart. Unfortunately there are no cameras. No access logs."


    She crouched near the desk. "Someone dragged the chair back recently. It scratched the tile."


    "There''s no signs of a serious struggle."


    Suddenly, they heard footsteps.


    It was too late to hide and so, they turned. An older janitor stood in the doorway, mop in hand, confused and tired.


    "You two with maintenance?"


    Darren stepped forward. "Not quite. We''re looking for a young man who worked this floor. He was moved a few days ago."


    The janitor looked uneasy. "You mean the kid in the button-down?"


    "Yes."


    "I saw him. He was here all week. Didn''t leave. Sat quiet. Took the phone off the hook. Then two days ago, three men came with private security badges. Said he was being moved to ''executive review holding.''"


    Darren''s voice darkened. "Did he resist?"


    The janitor hesitated. "No. But he looked scared."


    Marilyn handed him a stack of cash. "If anyone asks, this didn''t happen."


    They left, while the janitor stared at them and then the wad of bills in his hand.


    Once they got back to the car, Rachel and Kara had this look on their faces that Darren instantly noticed.


    He stared at both of them and asked, "Is something wrong?"


    "Sir," Rachel spoke first, eyes scared. "Something''s happened."


    Kara wheeled over from the back chair. "Trendteller has been flagged by the Commerce and Tech Board. An anonymous report''s gone viral and it says we inflated backend AI modules and withheld true system costs."


    "What?" Darren said sharply.


    "It''s fake. But the problem is... two of our mid-level buyers pulled out just now. One froze payments. The other is preparing a statement."


    Rachel handed him the alert screen.


    ''BREAKING: Steele''s Trendteller Facing Valuation Review ¨C Insider Leak Suggests ''Shadow Licensing.'' ''


    Darren''s blood chilled. "Our product is dipping. Hard."


    Rachel looked at him worriedly. "Someone is hitting us because they know our focus is elsewhere."


    Darren''s mind suddenly flashed to the system''s warning.


    ©³System advice: You''re so close! But never forget to keep eyes on your back.©¿


    While they were searching the dark for a friend, the enemy struck in the light.

 Chapter 187: Trendteller in Trouble

    It was well orchestrated from Ryan''s part. After the Delverate plan backfired, he had retreated to this more straightforward and yet, brutal attack.


    All he needed was Gillian Henderson to keep them busy, keep their focus on something else. Grant Hayes.


    Then, he attacked using his power over the market, causing a distribution blockage on Trendteller to its buyers.


    He did this by targeting automated backend services, not public-facing ones.


    It was a smart move. Ryan didn''t attack the code or marketing. Rather, he attacked:


    API licensing keys (used by distributors to roll out Trendteller to clients), payment channels tied to rollout stages, and digital authorization nodes that rely on third-party validation to deploy updates


    By triggering "pending dispute" flags in shared legal metadata, those systems automatically blocked new shipments and trials¡ª just like a credit freeze.


    Of course Ryan wouldn''t have been able to do this without his control over distribution channels in Los Alverez as he managed many of them, but those wealthy people would never notice him using their resources to help his cause.


    They never did.


    Now in the office, Rachel showed Darren the email from one of their distributors:


    "Until our legal team confirms IP parity and payout continuity, we must temporarily freeze Trendteller''s digital access nodes under Clause 4.7 of the Asset Sharehold Regulation Agreement. Standard freeze time: 14 days minimum."


    Darren looked at the message with an impassive expression. A normal 21 year old would have melted from all this pressure of managing a company. But Darren was determined to succeed.


    Yet, there were more problems.


    BREAKING: "Steele Investments Faces Systemic Review Over Trendteller Licensing Irregularities."


    The screen showed that a whistleblower had been implemented on Darren''s product too, and now they would have to face multiple judges with the likelihood of the product being taken off the market, and him losing millions upon millions.


    "It''s a strangulation of flow," Sandy, who was now involved in this because finance was now in play, spoke up. "We can''t ship new code modules. Our automated trial licenses are bouncing back. And finance can''t clear payments to mid-tier vendors."


    "Which makes us look unstable," Rachel added. "We''re not failing... but they''re freezing our arms mid-swing."


    "Trendteller is tanking," she confirmed softly, standing beside him. "Sales are dipping. Two mid-tier chains pulled out this morning. A third just requested a full refund."


    Darren paced once, twice, then stopped.


    "This was never about Trendteller being flawed. Ryan is changing the perception. He wants our buyers to believe that we can''t deliver."


    Sandy''s tone sharpened. "And they''re likely not going to purchase anything anytime soon. They''ll wait to see if we collapse before placing more orders."


    Darren turned to Rachel. "Do you still have it?"


    Rachel nodded at him knowingly. She knew exactly what he was talking about.


    Unfortunately for Ryan, he had forgotten one thing.


    When he sent Amelia to Darren''s home, handing her a list of threats with the things he could do if he did not submit, Amelia had never returned the list.


    She had given it to Rachel when she joined the team.


    And under Darren''s orders, what did Rachel do?


    She created a complete rebuttal and defence against every one of the threats in case Ryan used them in the future.


    And amongst those threats were Asset Distribution Blockage.


    Even though fixing the licensing issue was going to be harder, when it came to the distribution blockage, Rachel knew exactly what to do.


    David nodded his head at the both of them¡ª Rachel and Sandy. "I''m entrusting this in your hands. Please don''t let me down."


    Then he turned to leave. "I''ll deal with the licensing and I''ll find Grant Hayes. But I promise that after this, this pest, Ryan Anders, will no longer be a problem to us."


    He left and entered the war room, switching into a fiercer character.


    "Alright," Darren said quietly, then louder: "Vance. Daisy. We proceed with our counterstrike. The human rights filing goes out today."


    Daisy nodded. "It''ll be submitted under Steele Investments as an affiliated investigative entity. It legally accuses Golden Hay of hostile restructuring, forced executive detainment, and corporate suppression."


    "And Miranda," Darren said, turning to her. "We need an outside stabilizer."


    Miranda Sloane was butting in for Kara who was really busy in the Bitcoin Operation room as of late.


    She blinked. "You want press?"


    "Yes," Darren said, then he thought of it for a while. "I have a... friend you can call"


    He wrote down the number and Miranda got to work immediately.


    As for Daisy and Vance, they prepared the files and got ready to go to court.


    "I''m confused, maam! Why am I here?"


    "Shut up."


    Marilyn entered the room with a junior accounting stagger who had accessed internal Trendteller valuation files last week.


    "Here she is sir," Marilyn said. ''Her name is Harper Dell.''


    Darren slowly walked to her, hands in his pockets. "Were we not paying you enough here?"


    "Sir, you are..." Harper''s eyes quivered. "I don''t know what this is about."


    "You leaked internal files," Darren said calmly, "to a fake firm operated by our rival."


    "That''s not¡ª I... I didn''t know!" she stuttered. "He said it was anonymous. He said I''d just be helping with internal transparency."


    "Marilyn?" Darren called.


    The woman stepped forward and smacked Harper so hard her face almost fell off.


    "He paid you," Darren said after, still calm like nothing had happened. "Eighty thousand. An offshore transfer. Did you really think we wouldn''t find out?"


    Harper broke, nose leaking. She fell down to her knees as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I didn''t mean to hurt the company."


    "You didn''t just hurt the company, you miserable imbecile," Darren said, stepping closer. "You hurt someone else."


    He stared at her.


    "You gave ammunition to the same man who locked an eighteen-year-old in a room for trying to run his father''s company."


    She froze.


    Darren lowered his head, his gaze locked with hers. Dark. Terrifying. "I''m going to ruin your life."


    ----------


    While this was happening, the ultimate checkmate was going on inside Golden Hay HQ.


    Gillian Henderson stood before a drawn map of the casino portfolio, smiling as he knew he had gotten what he wanted.


    Beside him stood Charles Wynne, the family''s longtime legal hawk.


    The company''s lawyers were gathered around, including the other board members.


    "The vote is in," Vector Callahan declared. "Franchise gains 82% operational control of the casino division. Donald''s name will appear on the press release. Yours stays behind the curtain."


    Gillian grinned like the devil. "Perfect."


    As the board celebrated, sharing the rest of the assets, Vector walked to Gillian and whispered in his ear.


    "Have you taken care of the boy millionaire? Darren Steele."


    Gillian smirked. "He''s too busy being dragged into court to know where to swing next. It''s over, Vector. We won."


    Vector smiled wryly. "Yes. You''re right. We won."


    -------------


    Back at Steele Complex, the legal motion was ready.


    Daisy had it queued for the court... and the media.


    After getting a call from Miranda Sloane, saying that Darren Steele needed her help, the blonde beauty and brash boldness, Brooklyn Baker was back.


    She and Darren sat by a table, going through the story she had written. It had been a while since they had been together like this and they spent a short time catching up, though Darren quickly wanted to get to the business.


    Once they were done going through it, he asked her to upload it.


    "You''re sure?" she asked Darren.


    He looked at the headline still rotating on the screen.


    "Trendteller Faces Collapse?"


    He nodded once. "Send it."


    "Alright then." She pressed enter.


    Darren took a sigh and sat back. "Now we wait."


    Within hours, it was everywhere:


    "Golden Hay Accused of Silencing Its Heir."


    "War Between Investment Giant and Casino Empire Heats Up."


    "Where is Grant Hayes?"


    Steele''s stocks, which had begun slipping, stabilized. Blogs began questioning the source of the leaked Trendteller report¡ª some suspecting "a rival tech group with political motives."


    Brooklyn''s new press team posted various copies and snippets on her numerous accounts in multiple platforms, not excluding CryptoTracker.


    And slowly, the public opinion was on Darren''s side and the disappearance of Grant Hayes was now a question everyone was asking.


    Where was the heir of Golden Hay?!


    Brooklyn looked at Darren with a proud smile. "You''re in."

 Chapter 188: Ready for a Showdown?

    There was one more thing to do before the last act¡ª before this mad war would culminate in a final battle.


    Amelia had just returned from Nevarro after her meeting with Cale Donovan. With the information she was going to give them, they would finally have everything they needed to strike hard and strong.


    Darren had stopped them from making any moves to avoid being hit again. The moves they would make would be strong and concurrent, leaving Ryan and Gillian with no chance.


    The press release was just the start. Ryan would believe they were clawing at anything because they were helpless, but he was going to get another surprise.


    And this one, Darren was going to make sure it ended him.


    The war room at the Steele Complex was ready and focused, everyone dressed in their office clothes, and going through details on their own one final time. But there was no chatter.


    Amelia entered, her heels clicking as the guard who had escorted her, waited by the door.


    Darren watched her move to the front of the table, and the rest of the team entered full focus¡ª waiting for Amelia Forrest to speak.


    She stood in front, scanning the room, travel-worn from her trip to Nevarro, a slim data case in hand. Darren, Rachel, Vance, Daisy, Sandy, and Miranda all watched her, the room heavy with anticipation.


    Amelia began without ceremony.


    "Cale Donovan gave us everything," she said, placing the case on the table. "Dummy company names, foreign accounts, the entire structure of Donald Henderson''s casino funnel scheme. It''s been active for years, and Gillian''s quietly shifting everything off the books ahead of the final vote."


    Miranda plugged in the flash drive Amelia handed her. Wire transfers lit up on her screen ¡ª trails running from Golden Hay to Franchise Casinos to fake firms in Ontario, Dubai, Lagos.


    "I haven''t seen embezzlement done like this," Miranda murmured. "It''s engineered extraction. This is what is in the casinos. Land rights, federal spillover clauses and unaudited insurance guarantees. Do you know how valuable this is for a company like Franchise?"


    "They want to be an Empire Company. This is the best way to do it."


    "Look at this. They''re draining Golden Hay dry before the vote," Rachel said, reading the details. "If we don''t stop them, even if Grant returns, there''ll be nothing left."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. "Then we don''t let them finish."


    But Amelia didn''t sit down.


    "Uhm... I wanted to say something. There''s something else," she said, more quietly now. "Something Cale told me that... changes everything."


    The others looked up.


    "The Nevarro warehouse," Amelia said. "You remember it. The one you sent me to try and acquire. Uh... Ryan also wanted it."


    Darren leaned forward. "Ryan wanted it? You never told me that."


    Amelia lowered her head. "Yes. I had... a reason for that. But... Cale confirmed it was handpicked by Franchise as a flagship expansion site. A luxury resort project. Ryan was representing them when he came that day."


    She paused, her voice tightening.


    "And the man who owned it... is dead."


    The room went still.


    "John Brittle?" Darren asked with a raised brow. "The old man. He''s dead?"


    Amelia nodded. "Died last week. Sudden heart attack. That''s the official story."


    Darren''s head lowered and he already started calculating. "That man was the most free spirited, cheerful person I''ve ever met. There''s no way he died of a heart attack. Franchise wanted the land. Ryan was their representative. That would''ve been motive enough."


    Amelia''s hands curled into fists at her sides. "I don''t think that''s why he was killed."


    Darren looked at her then narrowed his eyes. "What are you not telling me, Amelia."


    She glanced at him and lowered her gaze once again, took a breath, then said what she had buried for weeks.


    "Ryan and I competed for the rights to the warehouse. Brittle found it amusing. Up until Ryan had me alone in a room and... got aggressive."


    Her voice faltered.


    Darren''s eyes flashed, and he bolted up to his feet. "What happened?"


    "He tried to corner me. Put his hands on me. I wasn''t sure what he was going to do, and I didn''t have to find out because Brittle... Brittle saw it happen, and he stepped in. He told Ryan to back off, scolded him so audibly and I could see how pissed Ryan was."


    Rachel''s eyes widened in horror. "Ryan Anders tried to assault you?" She was still stuck on that.


    Amelia nodded. "And Brittle caught him."


    She looked at Darren, seeing how he was gazing at her with multiple swirling emotions. "I''m fine now, really. What I''m worried about is Brittle. He threatened Ryan. Said he''d make a call if Ryan ever stepped out of line again. And talked about meeting the company he represented. I think Ryan had pretended it was Sinclair Group not Franchise. They really wanted to keep this in the wraps."


    "So he was scared that Brittle would meet with Sinclair Group, a more powerful company."


    "A former Empire Company."


    "And now Brittle''s dead," Vance muttered grimly.


    Darren stood there in silence, jaw tight. His gaze burned cold. "You should have told me about this," he said to Amelia.


    She nodded once. "I''m sorry."


    "Don''t apologize."


    "I just thought that you were busy... with everything going on. I didn''t want to put more weight on your shoulders."


    Rachel looked at the two of them, then asked, "Do you think Ryan killed him? To protect himself?"


    "I don''t know," Amelia admitted. "But the timing... the location... it''s too perfect. Brittle was the only person who saw what happened. He was the threat to Ryan''s reputation. Maybe Brittle tried to blackmail him and Ryan snapped."


    Miranda''s fingers flew across the keyboard. "I''m pulling the death certificate and estate filings."


    Moments later, she spoke up. "Medical report says heart failure. No autopsy. His estate was pushed through probate within 72 hours. That''s insanely fast. The attorney of record is tied to an MWMO-backed legal firm. Same firm that filed Sinclair''s NDA."


    "But the warehouse is ours."


    "With Brittle dead that only puts a suspicious eye on us," Darren said. "And a smart man like Ryan knows that which is why it''s his next move."


    A burst of realization hit him. "He''s going to make it look like we forced Brittle to sign the agreement to take the warehouse and then kill him. That way he can claim it in court, possibly put it for auction and Franchise can get the chance to purchase it."


    "Fucking hell."


    "That clever bastard."


    "Covered top to bottom," Vance cussed.


    Rachel looked at Darren. "This is it, isn''t it?"


    Darren''s face was deadly. He turned to Vance and Daisy. "Get me an off-book investigator. Discreet and fast. We don''t go to court yet, but I want every detail on Brittle''s death, the firm that pushed his probate, and whether Ryan''s name ever shows up in contact logs. Ryan doesn''t know about this yet so let''s put it on him before he gets the chance to put it on us."


    Then he turned to Amelia.


    "We''ll talk more about this later."


    She nodded. "Okay."


    Just as they were about to head out, Marilyn Standard entered, hair tied, expression sharp. She walked straight to Darren and handed him a small laptop.


    "I found Thorne," she said.


    "Where is he?"


    "Not on public record. But I followed warehouse shipment logs. He''s been operating as a private enforcer under Henderson authority. Building access logs tied him to floor 28, and now..."


    She tapped the screen.


    "Scheduled Transfer: Asset 4X9 ¨C Departure: Golden Hay HQ to Arligent Hills Estate. Time: 12:40 AM tonight."


    Darren''s voice was shaky. "He''s the one who has Grant. They''re moving him."


    "They didn''t even name him," Marilyn said. "Just labeled him an ''asset.''"


    Darren''s entire frame stiffened. "That means it''s a final extraction. They''re erasing him permanently."


    "Are they going to kill him?" Rachel asked with wide eyes.


    "I don''t know, but we''re not going to wait to find out."


    Marilyn saw the fire in Darren''s eyes. One she recognized from soldiers when they were about to do something brazen.


    "Do you really want to go this route?" she asked.


    Darren''s voice was iron. "I''m old enough to hold a gun, Marilyn. Get the agents ready. We intercept the convoy."

 Chapter 189: Showdown

    The sound of cars, night birds and the busy people in Mattress Street filled the air. To some of these people, it was just an ordinary night, nothing different from the usual.


    To others, it was a future-defining night, where the life of a person and the survival of a company was on the line.


    Through the somewhat busy road, an armored truck clawed its way through the street, honking and bumping. People glanced at it once but didn''t give it a second thought. It appeared to be just another transport vehicle taking goods to some location.


    Inside the armored beast however, the missing heir of Golden Hay was slumped against the cold, padded wall of the transport chamber.


    Grant was breathing heavily. His wrists were chafed raw by steel cuffs, and around his ankle an ID tag was clamped like a dog''s collar.


    Today, he was cargo. Disposable. Doomed.


    A low, electric hum vibrated through the vehicle¡ª locks, cameras, and reinforced steel singing their hymn of captivity.


    Grant could only wonder where he was being taken to. He had cried some minutes ago and couldn''t muster up any tears at this point.


    He missed his father.


    Albert Hayes would never have let something like this happen to him.


    At the driver''s seat, Thorne, a former Marine turned Henderson''s shadow, adjusted his earpiece with his eyes on the road.


    Thorne''s face wasn''t in any database, and neither was his name on any list, which was what had made it so difficult for Marilyn to track him.


    He was just a specter who delivered.


    His fingers drummed the wheel, a metronome counting down to the city''s edge. Beyond that border, Arligent Hills Estate waited.


    Gillian has selected the secretive estate personally. It was where he kept many friends or accomplices who he didn''t want people finding out about. At least for a while.


    Thorne drove on for a while before coming to an abrupt stop.


    "What the hell?"


    Signs were raised in the distance, fists high in the air with clubs, sticks, and flags. People were yelling.


    Thorne narrowed his eyes.


    Through the dry glass, a mob surged into the street, a writhing wall of chaos. Screams pierced the air. Chants shook the ground. A car lay gutted, flipped like a carcass, flames licking its corpse. Makeshift signs bobbed in the crowd, absurd war cries scrawled in desperation:


    Some yelled, "LEGALIZE MIDNIGHT PIZZA!"


    Others yelled "BANK OF SHADOWS MUST FALL!" and "CRYPTO IS OUR BLOOD!"


    They seemed to be protesting against the policies the government had started to place against cryptocurrency.


    "Fucking vermin," Thorne spat, his voice a low growl.


    The bus lurched to a stop, pinned by the human tide. Sirens wailed, distant but useless, no cops dared wade into this madness yet. Thorne''s hand snapped to his communicator.


    "HQ, this is Courier-1. Mattress is a warzone. There''s a protest blocking the route. Holding position."


    A crackle. Then: "Stay dark. No engagement. Clearance team''s en route."


    He slammed a fist on the dash, jaw tight, and leaned back, eyes burning into the chaos.


    Meanwhile, two Blocks away, a black SUV was crouched in the shadows behind a derelict mechanic''s garage, its engine purring like a predator.


    Inside, Darren sat cloaked in blackout gear ¡ªturtleneck, windbreaker, cap pulled low over eyes that gleamed with feral focus.


    An earpiece hugged his skull. Beside him, Marilyn Standard manipulated a map on the laptop screen, her gloved fingers dancing through live drone feeds of the riot''s heart.


    "They''re ready," she said, voice sharp as a blade. "Your CryptoTracker lunatics brought drums. And Molotovs."


    Darren''s lips twitched, though he wasn''t in the mood to smile considering what was on the line. "Well I told ''em I''d sign autographs and throw in VIP passes to the Trendteller relaunch."


    Darren''s fans truly had come clutch as he''d sent to one of the fan groups a secret link to help with this situation by gathering in the road and rioting for something random, causing traffic.


    He made them promises. But it was worth it.


    Marilyn''s eyes flicked to him. "I never expected something so unprecedented from you."


    "Then you haven''t hung around me enough."


    His earpiece crackled. An agent voice cut through: "I just got feedback. Distraction''s live, sir. Our decoy cop''s closing in. I think Thorne is still blind."


    "Good. Let''s keep it that way. Remember play your role but don''t over play it."


    Darren glanced at the clock: 11:56 PM. Four minutes until the bus crossed the point of no return.


    "Move," he said, voice like steel.


    Back at the core of the riot, Thorne''s fingers twitched on the wheel as a lone patrol officer carved through the mob, his uniform glinting like a beacon.


    The name tag read "Sgt. L. Mendez," but it was a lie. Mendez was actually Juno, Darren''s hired ghost, a washed-out academy reject now playing cop for a fat payday. He strode to the bus, fearless, and rapped on the driver''s window.


    "Sir! You''re blocking a fire lane. All unmarked vehicles reroute to Elbow Bridge. Now."


    Thorne''s lip curled, looking at him with disgust. "I''m high-clearance, kid. I don''t detour for a damn riot."


    "Then show me the papers," Juno shot back, flashing a forged badge with practiced ease.


    Thorne''s patience snapped. He kicked open the side door and loomed over the fake cop, his bulk a silent threat. Words dripped like venom, low and lethal.


    "You gotta give me a good reason to show you my papers, isn''t that so, cop? I''m not the one who started this damn riot."


    Juno gulped. He didn''t want to get hit today, but at least, he''d given Darren and the rest the opening they needed.


    A second SUV slid behind the bus like a phantom, headlights dim, sirens dead.


    Two shadows spilled out¡ª Darren and Marilyn, moving with the precision of wolves. Marilyn''s lock override tool kissed the rear panel.


    After a while, a soft click announced the unlocking of the door. Darren shoved the door open and slipped into the transport chamber.


    The cabin was a tomb¡ª cold, sterile, lit by the faint glow of security strips. Grant lay crumpled, barely alive, his breath shallow.


    "Grant," Darren hissed, dropping to one knee. "It''s me."


    The boy stirred, eyes fluttering. "What? D¡ª, Darren...?"


    "Yeah, kid. It''s me."


    "We gotta go," Marilyn pointed out.


    Darren narrowed his eyes at Grant. "Come on, you''re getting out."


    Marilyn knelt down, her tools dismantling the ankle tag in seconds. "Two minutes," she snapped.


    Grant''s voice cracked, tears brimming. "I thought... I was done..."


    "Not tonight," Darren growled, hoisting him like he weighed nothing. "Remember what I told you, kid? I feel responsible for you. And you''re my ally. I''m never gonna let you fall."


    Carefully, they melted back into the night, sliding into the waiting SUV. Marilyn talked to the driver over the comm: "We''ll be going to Solaro Alley to rendezvous. Cops won''t touch it for ten minutes."


    "Hey! Hey! Hold on!" Juno''s voice echoed. "I never asked you to check the trunk. I''m not done with you."


    "You raising your voice at me?!"


    "Ho! Ho! You don''t want me to take you in for assaulting an officer, do you?"


    Thorne grunted, knowing he couldn''t afford bringing the cops'' attention into this. "I''ll get you my papers."


    Just as soon as he turned, Darren pulled Grant inside his SUV. Marilyn relocked the truck''s door and jumped down, entering the back seat.


    "Move move!" The SUV peeled out, swallowed by smoke, screams, and the darkness of the night.


    "You know what, sir? Never mind. You''ve been a respectable gentleman so I think I can let you go with a warning." Juno said.


    Thorne, bending to retrieve the papers from a cabinet, turned around. "So I can leave?"


    "Yeah. And I''ll help make you a way through this crowd. What do you say?"


    Thorne narrowed his eyes angrily, before merely replying, "Okay."


    "Love to hear that!"


    He climbed back into the driver''s seat, flipping off the fake cop as the crowd began to fracture.


    The Riot Police stormed in, gas clouds blooming, batons swinging at skulls. He eased the bus forward, tires crunching over debris, muttering curses.


    Once he was away from the protest and leaving Mattress Street, he pulled out his comm and updated everyone at HQ.


    "We''re moving again," he said. "Now leaving the city."


    "Copy. The guards at Arligent will be expecting you. No more hiccups, Thorne."


    "Copy that."


    Ten minutes of silence followed as Thorne drove farther and farther away from Los Alverez, the city''s pulse fading behind him.


    He hummed a note and chewed gum, but through his humming, he realized he was the only one making any kind of noise.


    Usually at a point, he would have heard Grant cough or beg to be freed, or bang on the walls.


    But it''s been silent.


    "Hey, Albert''s kid. You good back there?" he asked.


    There was no answer.


    Something was certainly wrong.


    He jerked the bus to the shoulder of Arligent Rise Road, heart pounding. His boots hit the ground hard as he walked to the back of the bus, unlocked it and stepped inside.


    To his dismay, there was nothing.


    The chamber gaped, empty as a grave.


    Thorne froze, breath catching like a blade in his throat. He went back and checked the locks, they were untouched. There were no scratches, no dents, no trace it had been tampered with.


    "No..." The word slipped out, a whisper of dread. "Fucking hell. No!"


    His comm screamed: "Courier-1, status!"


    Thorne hesitated. He couldn''t speak. His pulse thundered, and he stepped backwards in the dark chamber.


    Somehow, the asset, Grant Hayes, was gone.


    Vanished.


    And he hadn''t seen a damn thing.


    "Thorne! What''s the status dammit!"

 Chapter 190: Grin of Victory

    All the way back in the Golden Hay HQ, Gillian Henderson burst through the double doors of the executive chamber, his face flushed and furious. The polished oak walls of the boardroom reflected his agitation as his Italian shoes echoed across the marble floor.


    "What do you mean he''s gone?!" he snapped.


    "We just got word back from Thorne, sir," the agent, sitting on the work panel replied, visibly terrified. "He said Grant just disappeared."


    Vector spoke, "Our speculation is that he was rescued during the protest in Mattress Street."


    Gillian looked at him. "What?"


    Trying not to let things escalate, Charles Wynne, the old legal hawk, looked up from a report with a weary grimace, seeing the raging look on Gillian''s face.


    Around the table sat other senior board members¡ª Maria Gentry, Vice Chair Doncaster, Councilor Kwong, and the head lawyer Vector Callahan, who was even more terrified than the rest of them.


    As for the others in the room, they were all tense, silent, and visibly shaken.


    Vector slid his glasses off slowly. "It''s no more a speculation. Thorne drove the bus to Mattress Street, that was the first and only time he stopped. He was there for a while, distracted by what we assume was a fake cop. Riot got stronger. Using the night, someone must have swooped in and rescued young Hayes without Thorne noticing."


    "Riot?" Gillian spat. "That''s the excuse? A riot in the middle of a city we control?"


    "It wasn''t random," Charles muttered. "We reviewed the camera footage. It was staged. A mass distraction. The transport route was sabotaged, the protest was likely fake."


    Gillian paced, losing his ponytail and running a hand through his long brown hair.


    Vector stared at him. "Could it be that this is Darren Steele''s doing?"


    Gillian snapped his head at him, glaring. "What do you think, Callahan? Of course it is Darren Steele. It has to be. He fucking played us. He waited until we moved Grant, then struck like a thief in the night."


    Angrily, he slammed his fist on the table. "Fuck! I thought Anders was supposed to be keeping busy!"


    "No one is going to stop me from getting those casinos! No one!"


    "Let us calm down and think for a bit," said Maria Gentry coldly, "Darren struck like someone who knew exactly what we were doing. Perhaps it''s high time for us to think more on what he is doing rather than assuming it and creating false solutions."


    Charles nodded grimly. "But the problem is we have barely any time left now. With Grant out... Gillian''s claim to operational control over the casinos is nullifying by the hour. Donald can''t walk. Grant is the rightful heir. If he takes this to the law, we are all done for."


    Gillian turned to Vector. "Then we silence him."


    Vector gave him a long look, like he was out of his mind. "Silence him? It''s too damn late for that. The media''s caught scent. Brooklyn Baker posted three new articles in the last hour. CryptoTracker has a livestream countdown titled Where Is Grant Hayes Now? That''s twenty thousand viewers. And rising."


    Gillian slammed a fist against the table, rattling the coffee trays.


    "Find Steele. Find Hayes. Find the team that pulled this off!"


    Before anyone could answer, the double doors opened again¡ª this time on Daisy Chen and Jonathan Vance.


    "Don''t worry," Vance said with a smile. "We could always find you."


    Everyone paused and turned around, staring at the formidable duo of Darren Steele''s legal defense.


    Both were dressed in sleek dark suits, not like lawyers but like hunters. They walked in uninvited. Their posture wasn''t aggressive. It was judicial.


    "Perfect timing don''t you think?" Vance continued, setting a thick leather-bound case on the table. "We were hoping to catch the rats before they scurried under the floorboards."


    Vector stood. "You''re trespassing."


    "I think you''re gonna let us go on this one," Daisy said flatly, opening the case. "Considering this building belongs to our business ally who you attempted to kidnap."


    Everyone fell silent.


    "Just take it that we''re here to deliver a notice."


    She passed thick manila folders around the board. One for each person. The air in the room thinned. The clack of folder clasps being opened replaced breathing.


    Gillian narrowed his eyes. "What is this?"


    Vance stepped forward, voice crisp and ringing like a gavel. "This... is one of my favorite parts of being a lawyer."


    He couldn''t let go of the smile on his face. "You see what''s in your hands, ladies and gentlemen, is a lawsuit. You are being sued under charges of illegal restructuring, theft of assets under false representation, executive detainment, and embezzlement across state and international lines. These papers also accuse the Franchise merger group¡ª of which you, Mr. Henderson, are a listed co-signer¡ª of knowingly trafficking stolen company assets using dummy corporations. Canada. Nigeria. UAE. Would you like me to keep going?"


    The room fell into stunned silence.


    "You''re bluffing," Vector growled.


    "Bluffing?" Daisy chuckled scoffingly. "We''re done playing, Mr Callahan."


    Gillian snapped, his face reddening. "To hell with you bastards. You think we''re over? No. We''re not done yet. We have our own case. Darren Steele murdered John Brittle. A landowner. A man who once owned a warehouse Darren now illegally possesses."


    He threw down files showing mockup evidence. "Ryan Anders told me everything. The man died of a so-called heart attack days after transferring the land. Ryan said Darren coerced him, killed him, and stole the warehouse for corporate leverage. That''s murder. That''s land theft. You want a war? Let''s have one."


    Vance and Daisy glanced at each other. Then slowly, calmly, they both laughed.


    The sound was cold.


    "You poor fool."


    Daisy opened a second folder and slid it across the table to Vector.


    "What''s this?" Vector said.


    "The autopsy Ryan forgot to delete," Daisy replied. "We pulled the medical reports and probate records under sealed warrants. The man didn''t die naturally. He was killed with a muscle relaxant that mimics cardiac arrest."


    She tapped the screen of her tablet, showing internal call logs. "The same muscle relaxant is a product of Padsign, a company that MWMO works for. What do you think will happen to Ryan when his client finds out he used their product to commit... murder."


    Everyone gasped.


    "And this?" She continued, "Is proof Ryan Anders filed three calls to the MWMO legal office that processed Brittle''s estate¡ª before the death was recorded. He clearly wants to purchase the land through auction after fighting our ownership over it."


    "That''s a lie," Gillian said, voice shaking. "You''re fabricating¡ª Ryan wouldn''t¡ªhe... he told me... Can someone get Ryan Anders on the phone! He has to disprove this!"


    Gillian looked around the room, expecting someone to do it. No one moved. Even Vector''s face had gone pale.


    They knew how perverse and evil Ryan Anders really was. It wasn''t hard to believe that he could have done something like this.


    Vance grinned victoriously. "And if you do get in contact with him, please let us know, mhm? We''re handing him over to the authorities."


    Gillian opened his mouth, but Vance raised a hand.


    "You are now a named party in two upcoming lawsuits. One for business theft and kidnapping, and another ¡ªif you defend Ryan too loudly¡ª for aiding and abetting second-degree murder."


    Silence filled everywhere. Covered every mouth. It was deep. Final.


    Gillian leaned back to the wall. His face cracking with fear and frustration. Sweat filled on his brow.


    Across the table, one of the board members closed his folder gently and whispered:


    "...We''re going to lose."


    Vance''s smile returned, razor-sharp.


    "You didn''t know before?" he said. "You lost the moment you threatened Darren Steele."

 Chapter 191: On the Run, Ryan Anders

    Darren and Marilyn took Grant to a private safehouse far away from the major business areas in the city, but still within public regions.


    Darren had suspected that if Gillian''s men ever came looking for Grant, they would search the quieter parts of the city and state, so it was best to hide in plain sight.


    Staying low was the move for now while on the Steele Complex, his women were hard at work.


    The room was alive with heat and hum. Screens blinked in rows, reflecting the faint glow across Rachel''s glasses as she leaned over the dashboard like a war general.


    Tap! Tap! Tap!


    Her fingers flew across the keyboard, sweat beading on her temple¡ª not from fear, but from the sheer momentum of what was unfolding.


    She had created these strategies herself, but implementing it wasn''t as easy as anyone would expect.


    Yet, she knew she had to do it, or else Trendteller would fall, and if it did, customers wouldn''t trust them and their other startup portfolios like Delverate would begin second guessing.


    There were so many customers to get to and fix the license. Who knew having so many early customers was going to bittersweet.


    And after that, she needed to stop the distribution blockage. That was a lot of work.


    Rachel had to lock in.


    On the central monitor, dozens of red "Blocked" alerts were blinking across Trendteller''s interface maps: frozen API nodes, vendor blackouts, and payment returns pulsing like failing organs.


    Amelia stood just behind her, headset on, patching communications between vendors, operators, and financial intermediaries. "Vendor B49 in Ontario still says the access key isn''t validating," she said sharply.


    "Check the secondary stack," Rachel replied, eyes burning with focus. "We''re not using the master licenses anymore. They''re poisoned. Give them the failover link from Orchid Node 2."


    "Copy," Amelia said, already typing. "Sending... now."


    A new window popped open.


    [Fallback API Key: Trendteller_Backup:orchid.node.422v]


    STATUS: ACTIVE


    Vendor Clearance: VERIFIED


    Digital Authorization: GRANTED


    One of the red blinking zones on the map flashed green.


    Rachel sat back, rolling her wrist. "That''s six down."


    From the corner, Sandy gave a breath of relief. "Mid-tier distributors are starting to unlock again. Refunds requests just slowed to a halt in West Europe. This is working."


    "You sound surprised," Rachel said dryly.


    Amelia cracked a grin. "We shouldn''t be, Rach. I mean, you planned this months ago, right."


    "Only because Ryan Anders doesn''t know how to keep his mouth shut," Rachel replied. "And because you joined the team and gave us the threats that he''d laid out. Building around it was easy. It''s my job."


    She flicked open a hidden directory and unlocked another section of code.


    "Bringing up the Decentralized Vendor Bridges now. Rerouting payout confirmations through shell intermediaries. Time to see if Ryan''s ''Clause 4.7'' failsafe is as fragile as his ego."


    Hours passed.


    After she executed the command, new markers on the screen shifted. Dozens of payment errors turned into pending transactions. Contracts were no longer being voided, they were processing.


    Resting on the work couch, Sandy sprang up, her voice lifted in disbelief. "That... that just revalidated four major clients."


    Amelia put a hand to her mouth. "Rach! You did it! You saved Trendteller. You reversed Ryan''s choke."


    "No," Rachel said, pushing off the desk and standing tall. "We all did it."


    It was quite rare for Rachel to be this mushy, so Sandy and Amelia relished in it, laughing to themselves as they finished the cupcakes.


    "Darren is going to be elated."


    "I hope so."


    "Me too. He''s been working so hard."


    As joy filled the Steele Complex, sadness and grim was about to be unleashed in the MWMO headquarters.


    The building loomed like a silent fortress in downtown Los Alverez. Sleek black walls, frosted glass, and gold logos inside the walls bearing the names of ghosts¡ª firms used to carry out the dirtiest legal manipulations in the corporate world.


    But tonight, silence was shattered.


    Red and blue lights painted the walls as squad cars swarmed the front entrance. A flood of officers in riot-grade gear poured in, led by Detective Lorence Harrow, a tall, broad man with a face carved by years of corporate cleanup.


    His badge flashed as he approached the front desk.


    "Los Alverez Corporate Crimes Division," he said flatly. "Step aside."


    The receptionist stammered, "You don''t have jurisdiction here¡ª"


    "I have a federal override signed by Judge Hallenstein," Harrow replied, slapping the warrant onto the desk. "Step. Aside."


    The doors opened.


    Inside, suited lawyers froze mid-stride. Papers dropped. Someone spilled coffee. The air grew dense with the realization that the wolves had arrived.


    "Split up," Harrow barked. "Archives, sublevel, data cores. Find anything connected to Franchise Casinos, MWMO, and the CEO, Ryan Anders."


    Boots thundered down hallways.


    Files were yanked from drawers. Servers were boxed. Password-encrypted laptops were hauled off, sealed in evidence bags with white gloves and red tags.


    In a glass-walled office upstairs, an agent shouted: "Detective! You need to see this."


    Harrow climbed quickly, entering Ryan''s office.


    Inside, on the screen, were internal logs, showing a sudden transfer of legal documents and purged client histories¡ª just hours earlier. All done under one clearance tag:


    > R.ANDERS


    He narrowed his eyes. "When?"


    "Two hours ago. He was here. Must have known we were coming."


    "Where is he now?"


    A junior analyst typed rapidly, trying to trace digital movement.


    Then a warning popped up.


    [USER DEACTIVATED ¨C PROFILE PURGED ¨C ACCOUNT SEALED UNDER EXECUTIVE PRIVILEGE]


    The analyst turned, pale. "Sir... he wiped his signature and scrubbed his presence. Even the biometric locks are voided."


    "Damn it," Harrow growled.


    Another officer entered the room. "Security footage gone too. But we did get his last known credential swipe."


    He handed Harrow a photo. It was grainy, but clear enough.


    That was clearly Ryan Anders. Dressed in a grey windbreaker with sunglasses and carry-on bag hanging on his shoulder.


    He has exited through the 7th floor exit, using a private elevator. East Garage.


    "Estimated time?"


    "Just before we breached the front. He''s gone."


    "I''ve always had my eyes on that bastard. Stinking up the city." Harrow clenched his jaw. "So the rat ran before we got here."


    He turned to the room full of confiscated data and lawyers too stunned to move.


    "Fine. Let''s burn the nest while we''re here."


    -----------------


    Elsewhere, or rather in the middle of nowhere, just trees and roads, Ryan Anders sat alone in the driver seat of a black car, speeding down a dark coastal road just outside city limits.


    Even with everything that was happening, his expression was calm¡ª too calm.


    He checked his phone.


    No signal.


    He opened a satellite device.


    Typed one word:


    > "Relocate."


    After that, he sent a message to a contact, The Well, who was Cyrus Weller, his cohort, and then continued driving through the shadows, escaping the busy city where he was now a wanted man.


    The only thing that rang in his mind was Darren Steele''s name, and the promise that next time, he wasn''t going to attack his business.


    He was going to kill him.

 Chapter 192: Aftermarth

    After Ryan Anders disappeared into the ethos, the madness slowly came to an end, but the city of Los Alverez had not stopped trembling since.


    The world had shifted. Alliances had broken. Empires started to fall.


    For Darren Steele, once a silent investor operating in the shadows of his small bedroom and investing in crypto, now stood beneath the scorching spotlight of global wealth and power.


    At first, the Golden Hay purge began.


    Grant Hayes made a monumental return to Golden Hay Headquarters. But he was not alone.


    At his sides were Argent Security operatives and representatives from Sagomoto Wealth Offices¡ª a declaration of the side he had taken and a public reckoning.


    He marched through the grand glass doors, past the stunned receptionists and frozen board executives. His name had been removed from the walls. His passcode had been revoked.


    But power was no longer locked in keycards and titles. It was in what he carried¡ª a court mandate, a federal injunction, and allies with guns and global capital behind him.


    Grant reclaimed the Chairman''s seat that same day.


    He realized that he''d let himself be a pushover. Something his father had not been, and so, with a heart of steel and a refusal to mercy, he executed judgment.


    Vector Callahan, Maria Gentry, and all the rest of the lawyers were all fired on the spot and escorted out in handcuffs.


    Decades of manipulation and betrayal had finally met the unforgiving blade of public justice. Within 72 hours, the remaining complicit board members were indicted.


    Gillian Henderson and his father, Donald Henderson, were charged with fraud, executive kidnapping, and financial conspiracy.


    Of course Gillian refused to go down without a fight, despite his own lawyer''s warnings. After a brutal court battle, they lost.


    Vance and Daisy were both all too happy to send them to jail.


    The younger Henderson was sentenced to 14 years, while Donald, weak and aging, only lasted one month in a detention home before he was found dead¡ª his heart finally giving out.


    Gillian had not even been able to attend the burial.


    Whilst others faced punishment, Ryan Anders, unfortunately, escaped his.


    However, because of how important he was, his vanishing triggered a financial quake.


    Ryan was the CEO for the biggest wealth management company in the state. He managed the elite, controlling wealth structures, estate trusts, shell entities, and tax havens for half the business elite in Calivernia.


    Some clients abandoned MWMO, fearing scandal. But many remained, seduced by the prestige and protected by the web Ryan had built.


    In the fallout, Archibald Mooney''s son, Tyler Mooney, was named CEO of MWMO, consolidating more power than ever.


    He had Darren Steele to thank for the position. But that didn''t mean he owed the fucker anything.


    But Tyler had to be smarter than Ryan, he didn''t want to end up like him. But at least now, with Jaxon and Amir, his plan to end Steele was still on. Now more than ever.


    However, the same person they were trying to end was experiencing a meteoric rise.


    Everywhere, every channel, every paper, Darren''s name soared, giving him more popularity than ever.


    Grant Hayes, in a live televised board session, declared,


    "I owe my life¡ª and this company¡ª to Darren Steele. He is no longer just a partner. He is family."


    That speech alone set media and investor circles ablaze.


    Just a few months ago this guy had launched a startup company and now he secured partnerships with multiple elite companies. To the extent that the owner of the biggest hotels and casino chains in the state was calling him family!


    A $300 million partnership deal was signed between Darren and Golden Hay''s newly restructured executive committee. It came with 10% equity in the very casinos he helped save¡ª giving Darren passive returns that rivaled small countries'' GDPs.


    But Darren didn''t stop there.


    With the blockage destroyed and the sabotage unraveled, Trendteller''s true potential exploded. The next update, codenamed "VISTA-5", changed everything.


    It allowed real-time consumer behavior simulation using anonymized neural behavior clusters.


    Small businesses could now simulate growth paths, adjust pricing based on psychological buying patterns, and build marketing campaigns in seconds.


    Franchise chains began embedding Trendteller into their entire expansion models.


    Within six weeks, Trendteller was considered essential.


    Retail, real estate, e-commerce, hospitality¡ª everyone needed it. Rival companies emerged¡ª SimuSense, SparkCart, BlueSpan¡ª but they were all catching up to something they couldn''t recreate.


    Darren also closed out his debt with Tamara Johnstone. He ensured that she was instated as official CEO of Horizon Strategies, using his Command Aura passive skill to tilt the decisions of the board to her favor.


    He had held her to her promise. With Ryan gone, he reminded her of their deal, and claimed every concession owed.


    And she gave it all; position, control, and money.


    Darren''s wealth began to expand massively, entering half a billion.


    He acquired two new homes¡ª one on Blackridge Crescent, the most exclusive street in Los Alverez, where the street had its own private security guard paid by the government, and another on Vermillion Hill, overlooking the ocean, where only three other houses existed.


    But his crown jewel?


    A Tuscan villa estate in northern Italy, complete with vineyards. He had purchased this for visiting plans, eco-farming, and of course, future value.


    For his mother, he had gifted something special.


    With her constant worrying and idle time, Darren set her up with a boutique antique and cultural collection shop, called "Heirloom Whisper", located in the art district of San Robera, Los Alverez.


    The shop featured rare artifacts, repurposed heritage pieces, and local art, many of which Darren acquired through international contacts. It quickly grew in popularity, featured in magazines like Sophie''s and museum circles.


    Darren helped expand it, creating a logistics system, online curation, and gallery sponsorships.


    Pamela Steele heard all the money she needed so this wasn''t about profit at all. Darren just knew that now he could take care of himself, his mother needed something else to wake up for.


    When it came to his empire, Darren realized how fast it was growing and turned inward.


    He tightened security around not only the Steele Complex, but also the businesses of his allies and the homes of his friends.


    His data team ran penetration audits every four days. Any sign of espionage would trigger a digital lockdown.


    This was necessary because everything was growing fast and desperately needed to be secured.


    Everything, including the Bitcoin Operation.


    The mining rigs had hit record output.


    In that month alone, they had mined 47 blocks which was 2,350 BTC, leaving them with a total holdings of: 19,800 BTC.


    Kara led an expanded team of forty-two engineers, and a new offshore cold vault was being built under Darren''s private holdings.


    On CryptoTracker, Darren''s following exploded.


    He had three times more followers than Adam Scotland, the second most-followed investor influencer.


    His name became synonymous with the term investor and winning.


    Fans gave him nicknames, women flooded his messages, YouTube videos were made about him with topics like; How Darren Steele made it and how you can too.


    The Investor System itself was proud of his achievements, it granted more Character Bonuses and one new feature.


    But¡ª


    When it came to Darren himself, something had changed.


    He no longer laughed easily. He no longer wandered the lounge or cracked open a beer with the team at midnight.


    He stayed in his office, sometimes for entire weekends. Silent. Working. Watching.


    Because despite everything, all Darren could think about was how many times he had come too close to defeat.


    Despite all his preparation, intelligence, and foresight, he realized just how fragile victory had been. Ryan had almost broken him. Gillian had almost buried him. Grant had almost vanished forever.


    Because of this, Darren Steele made a quiet, internal vow:


    He would never come that close again.


    He would never lose.


    He became colder. Sharper. Focused to the point of isolation.


    If his first few months with wealth was like this, he knew the coming years would be tougher. The enemies would only get stronger.


    And he had to be stronger than every single one of them.

 Chapter 193: A New Time

    A new day came!


    Many months had passed since the madness of Ryan Anders and Gillian Henderson. The year of 2010 was over and the new year, 2011 was in its third month.


    March. It opened like a revelation.


    People went about their separate duties, cars honked, coffees were poured and the air was filled with murmurs of conversation.


    And then, out of nowhere, it came.


    There was no warning. No slow climb. Just impact.


    The markets hadn''t even fully opened when it happened. Bitcoin... surged.


    It rocketed to an unbelievable $6.00 per coin, after starting the year under a dollar. Now, it was the headline across every ticker in the country.


    As usual, CryptoTracker always turned to a frenzy whenever this happened. The home page was in chaos. Reactions piled in by the second.


    @DigitalDon: "I''m not crying. YOU''RE crying. $6.00?!?"


    @DucklingFan89: "Mr. Duckling did it again. He made the most profit didn''t he?!"


    @BlockBillionaire: "Fuck. I followed ScottishPanda again and I missed this rise."


    @SleeplessSatoshi: "70 thousand fucking dollars! Woohoo! Anyone wants to buy?!"


    For Business Everyday, they were up to their usual antics.


    Their anchors wore tight smiles as they read the news, trying to keep composure while the rest of the financial world went into freefall excitement.


    "Yes, Bitcoin is seeing an unprecedented price movement," said Gregory Niles, who had taken Brooklyn''s position, had a taut voice. "But we caution viewers: speculative assets like this are prone to collapse. We''ve been saying it all the time. Digital currency is still far from being a trustworthy financial instrument."


    "Very volatile, I tell you, Niles," his co-anchor chimed in. "Highly vulnerable to manipulation. We''re not recommending it for long-term portfolios."


    And yet the screen behind them kept screaming:


    BTC: $6.00 | +622% YTD


    Since she was free from the chains of Business Everyday, Brooklyn could say whatever she wanted to say. So, in her magazine special, Brooklyn Exclusive, she did not mince words.


    "Bitcoin has just made its biggest leap in history," she said with a spark in her voice. "But let us not forget the man who predicted this? Who mined it, who scaled it, and who held while the world mocked him?"


    "Darren Steele. Love him or hate him¡ª and it seems everyone seems to love him now. He''s not just ahead of the curve. At this point, he is the curve and anyone would be stupid to underestimate him."


    She went on with the potential of cryptocurrency and the government''s actions to try to cut it down.


    A reader of the magazine closed the paper and continued storming through an executive corridor.


    Rachel Teschmacher was as excited as a baby with ice cream. Her heels clacked urgently across the polished floors as she made her way, hair dark hair bouncing.


    She wore a silk red blouse tucked neatly into a high-waisted black skirt. Her hair covered one of her eyes as usual, and her lips were cherry red¡ª sharp, precise, like the rest of her.


    She clutched a file to her chest, heart racing. This was it. They''d done it. Over $280,000 in holdings overnight. Her hands trembled with adrenaline.


    Because of how excited she was, she had forgotten to knock.


    She pushed the door open. "Sir! Bitcoin just experienced its biggest rise ev¡ª"


    Then she froze.


    The file slipped in her grip.


    Darren was seated on the couch. Shirtless. Calm. Cold. A woman pulled her face from his cock and stared at her.


    Rachel recognized her. She was Harper Bell, the former security officer who had betrayed them. Her skin was flushed, lips swollen, and her mascara had smeared her face.


    Rachel''s world paused.


    Harper''s eyes were surprised and worried, but Darren didn''t even flinch. He stood, pushing Harper aside with disinterest.


    His eyes locked with Rachel as he approached her.


    "Rachel," he said. "Have you forgotten how to knock?"


    Rachel blinked rapidly, scrambling to find her voice. "I¡ª I was excited, I¡ª It slipped my mind."


    She swallowed. "Bitcoin hit six dollars. We''re up hundreds of thousands in value. It''s... it''s everywhere."


    Darren''s tone didn''t shift. "I know."


    He picked up his watch from the table. "I''ll meet you downstairs shortly."


    Rachel nodded. Quiet. Her cheeks pale. And she walked out with trembling steps, closing the door softly behind her.


    In the meeting room, chatter filled the air.


    Kara was at the head of the display screen, projecting stats. Amelia, Sandy, Miranda, and Simon Wilkes were seated around the table. The excitement was thick.


    "I just can''t believe it! Last month, we were sitting on sixty thousand," Kara grinned. "This morning? Twenty-nine thousand, seven hundred and eighty BTC valued at over two hundred and eighty grand."


    Sandy smiled, resting her head on the chair. "And I don''t think Darren would sell yet. He knows exactly where this is going. It''s sure to spike even higher, right?"


    Simon leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. "The halving calculations¡ª my God¡ª they''ve held. Even the flow model is consistent. I ran the block interval curve three times this week. It shouldn''t be happening this fast, and yet... it is."


    Amelia sipped her coffee, smirking. "The world''s just catching up to what boss has known for months."


    Then Kara paused, glancing at Rachel who had entered without saying a word.


    "You''re quiet. What''s wrong? Wasn''t Darren surprised when you told him? Excited?"


    Rachel''s fingers curled around her cup. Her voice was soft.


    "I think... I was the one who was surprised."


    "Huh?" Kara raised a brow.


    Then the door opened and Darren entered.


    Instantly, the room fell silent. The temperature shifted and conversations died. Chairs scraped as everyone straightened up and took their seats.


    He walked to the front with slow, deliberate steps, eyes sharp but distant.


    It had been like this since the turn of the year. Darren had changed.


    He was still brilliant, still relentless¡ª but the warmth was gone. No jokes. No personal comments. No offhand glances. He barely saw them as people anymore. Only as roles. Units in motion.


    They felt it every day.


    And no one dared say it aloud.


    He stood at the head of the table, fingers resting on the edge as he looked at them.


    But before he could say anything, everyone''s phones began to ding.


    A wave of notifications rolled through the room.


    Rachel checked hers first. Her face stiffened.


    "It''s an emergency bulletin," she said, reading aloud. "From State Business Authority and Regional Trade Regulation Newswire."


    She paused, voice suddenly thinner.


    "Due to the involvement of a key Moon Enterprises subsidiary in a criminal operation, and the ensuing investigations affecting financial networks and legal allies, compounded by the controversy surrounding his son..."


    "...the richest man in the state is returning to Los Alverez."


    Everyone froze.


    Rachel looked up.


    "Archibald Mooney is coming back."

 Chapter 194: Profile Status Update

    Perhaps Darren was starting to regret the path he had taken...


    It was too lonely, too quiet. Darren had always been a fan of the cold but never to this extent.


    When he woke up, the morning air was cool, crisp with the quiet that only the first day of a new month could carry. March had arrived in Los Alverez with no fanfare ¡ªjust a sky of cloudless blue stretching under the heavens.


    Inside the private villa nestled in the exclusive curve of Greenbaby estate, Darren got up from bed, took a bed and dressed with silent precision.


    The routine was muscle memory now. He fastened the final button of his black fitted shirt, then tightened the slim silk tie around his collar, the knot sharp and surgical. A platinum watch with a dark obsidian face slipped onto his wrist. No rings. No excess.


    Darren''s style was a clean, precise elegance. That didn''t change.


    He reached for his coat and slid it over his shoulders like a mantle. He stood by a memory, no smile on his face. He hadn''t even smiled in weeks.


    Months?


    There were no unnecessary movements. No idle hums. Just the practiced ritual of a man who had no time for comfort. Power didn''t wear leisure well, and Darren had long abandoned the illusion of ease.


    He stepped out of his bedroom and walked down the marble stairway.


    In the kitchen, his mother sat sipping tea by the wide windows, the soft morning light falling across her modest sweater and greying hair.


    A ledger sat open on the island counter¡ª Heirloom Whisper, her boutique business, was doing well.


    Darren had made sure of it. Artisans, suppliers, contracts¡ª he had built the network around her like armor. Not because she needed the money, but because she needed something to pour herself into. Something to distract her from the man her son had become.


    "You''re up early," she said, glancing over the rim of her cup.


    Darren paused only briefly to meet her gaze. "It''s the first. I shouldn''t be late on firsts."


    She gave a gentle, tired smile. "I suppose not. Have a good day at work?"


    He nodded his head. "Thank you, mum." Then he turned, heading toward the door.


    Once outside, he got into his new 2011 Rolls-Royce Ghost and turned the car on. The engine murmured to life, silent and regal, like a lion yawning.


    And after glancing at his home one more time, Darren turned the steering wheel and drove.


    Through the hills of Blackridge, down the empty morning roads that curved like marble veins through the city.


    He didn''t turn on music. He didn''t make a call. The world passed in motion outside the glass, and he stared through it like one might study a chessboard already halfway won.


    Months of this straightforward routine had turned Darren Steele into a man of movement.


    Stillness was only ever a prelude to the next strike.


    He arrived at Mauravard some moments later as the car coasted into the underground entrance of the Steele Complex. The first rays of morning sun kissed its curved surface, refracting across the steel framework like a web of molten silver.


    Inside, the complex was waking up.


    Security staff rotated shifts in clean formation. Lights flickered on across departments. Coffee stations hissed as the first wave of early arrivals filtered through sleek corridors, badging in with practiced efficiency.


    "Good morning, sir," one person greeted.


    "Good morning, Mr. Steele," another said with more enthusiasm.


    Darren only nodded his head in response to them.


    Not many workers were present as it was still very early. That included Rachel.


    She was usually early¡ª but he had beaten her today. Darren got into the elevator and arrived at the top floor not long after.


    The heels of his Antonio Black leathers clicked elegantly on the floor as he approached his office. Once he reached the door, he twisted the knob and pushed open.


    Inside, the lights were already on.


    Harper Bell stood near his desk, dressed immaculately in a form-fitting white blouse tucked into a tight slate-grey skirt. Heeled shoes. Light blond hair in a soft wave over one shoulder, and subtle but intentional lipstick sparkling on her lips.


    She immediately bowed her head.


    "I cleaned your office, sir."


    Darren said nothing at first.


    He entered slowly, his eyes scanning the room like a surgeon inspecting a sterile field.


    Overtime, his office had changed¡ªsubtly. The desk was sleeker. The windows were fitted with an updated polarizing tint. And near the far wall, replacing the old armchairs, was a newly added deep leather couch, trimmed with brass and angled toward the expansive skyline.


    He walked to it, dropped his suitcase, and after she took off his coat, he sat down.


    The silence dragged for a breath. Then two.


    Darren looked at Harper who gazed at him nervously.


    "Come here," he said, sighing with exasperation.


    She moved.


    Carefully. Quietly. Like someone approaching something powerful and dangerous.


    She stopped two feet from him, hands at her sides, gaze lowered.


    "Closer," Darren said.


    She obeyed.


    His eyes lifted to her, cold and measured.


    Harper was a pretty girl ¡ªhe knew that. But beauty wasn''t rare to him. Not anymore. What he wanted from her especially was obedience. That was all she had to do to atone for her betrayal.


    Harper had agreed. Now she was his completely. Not only because he demanded it.


    Because she chose to stay.


    "Did you finish the report I gave you yesterday?" he asked, tone even.


    "Yes, sir. It''s uploaded to the private channel. All flagged entries marked."


    He nodded once.


    Then leaned back, eyes still on her.


    "Good. Unzip me, and get to work."


    Harper bit her lip, hesitating for only a moment as she knew it wasn''t a good idea to let him repeat himself.


    Darren, rested on the couch, let out a soft growl as her lips enveloped his member and she began to bob her head gently.


    He summoned the system, using this as the best time to go through his new Profile Status since it was a new month.


    With a clear head, things would be understood easier.


    Ding!


    ©³Profile Status updating...©¿


    ©³Host Profile: Darren Steele©¿


    ©³Age: 21©¿


    ©³Assets:


    ¡ª Cash: $782,445,900 (Checking)


    ¡ª Personal Belongings: $296,880,400


    ¡ª Real Estate: Greenbaby mansion, Blackridge Villa, Vermillion Hill Estate, Tuscan Montelago Vineyard Estate


    ¡ª Luxury Vehicles: Ferrari Revento?n, Rolls-Royce Ghost (2011), Aston Martin One-77


    ©³Liabilities:


    ¡ª Debt Free


    ©³Net Worth (Assets Minus Liabilities):


    ¡ª $1,079,326,300 ¨C $0.00 = $1,079,326,300©¿


    ©³Active Investments: BTC, Apple, Trendteller, Delverate, Castle Cottage, Warehouses, Horizon Strategies (Silent Partner)©¿


    ©³Businesses Owned:


    ¡ª Trendteller Inc. (45%)


    ¡ª Delverate Technologies (31%)


    ¡ª Castle Cottage Restaurants (10%)


    ¡ª Heirloom Whisper (40%)


    ©³Portfolio Summary:


    ¡ª Stocks: Apple (Sold), Strategic Holding Portfolio under Stealth ETF Management


    ¡ª Cryptocurrency: Company: 29,780 BTC (~$6.00 each = $178,680)


    Personal:


    ¡ª Business Assets: Trendteller AI Engine, Delverate Nyros IP Stack


    ¡ª Physical Assets: Real Estate x3, Vehicle Fleet, The Steele Complex HQ


    ©³Expenditure Log©¿


    ©³Monthly Ledger:


    ¡ª Money Gained: $1,942,117,000


    ¡ª Money Spent: $1,122,334,800


    ©³Reputation Tracker©¿


    ¡ª Public Reception: Titan of Trendteller / Young Visionary


    ¡ª Rivals'' Fear:


    ? Moon Wealth Management ¨C Disrupted: Passive Aggression Suspected


    ? Franchise Casinos ¨C Collapsed


    ? MWMO (Under New Leadership ¨C Neutral, Unpredictable)


    ¡ª Allies'' Loyalty:


    ? Grant Hayes (A+)


    ? Leonard Holloway (A)


    ? Tamara Johnstone (A)


    ? Olivia Sinclair (B-)


    ? Arnold Castle (A+)


    ? Lila Torres (A+)


    ? Ethan and Jonah (A)


    ©³Financial Milestones©¿


    ¡ª First $1B Net Worth: Unlocked!


    ¡ª First Profitable Investment: Unlocked


    ¡ª First Business Acquisition: Unlocked©¿


    ©³Legacy Counter©¿


    ¡ª Jobs Created: 182


    ¡ª Companies Disrupted: 3


    ¡ª Rivals Defeated: 3


    ©³Quests©¿


    ©³Weekly Quest:


    ¡ª Reinforce the Wall


    Reinforce the structural and legal integrity of your empire by acquiring a new patent or legal protection to secure your business IP.


    Reward: +5% Market Resistance Shield for one product.


    ©³Monthly Quests:


    ¡ª King of the Block


    Reach a mining milestone of 32,000 BTC before the month ends. Every block matters.


    Reward: Passive Mining Efficiency Boost (10%)


    ¡ª Enemy of My Enemy


    Forge a strategic temporary alliance with a former rival''s contact. Survival is often about knowing when to let the snake bite another.


    Reward: Access to Hidden Network Node (1-time lead bonus)


    ©³Congratulations, You Have Unlocked New Achievements!©¿


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Market Warlord


    ¡ª Your rival didn''t just lose. His legacy, his name, and his empire were burned. You turned public opinion, legal networks, and business currents against him like a true tactician.©¿


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Digital Heir


    ¡ª With Trendteller dominating multiple sectors and BTC holdings nearing legendary levels, you''ve established yourself as the heir to the digital throne.©¿


    ©³Achievement Unlocked: Eyes Like Fire


    ¡ª Your cold, calculating streak has not gone unnoticed. Allies fear you, rivals dread you, and every action you take feels inevitable. You are no longer building a company. You are building a kingdom.©¿


    --------------------------


    Darren let out a sigh, a mixed reaction from the fellacio and the new quests. Then his head snapped to his door when it opened and Rachel stepped in.

 Chapter 195: Heart of Steele

    After the incident, Darren told Harper to get dressed. Unfortunately, he hadn''t been able to get off before he began for the day.


    It wouldn''t necessarily affect anything, but Darren wished that he''d at least been able to release. Somehow, since he''d started this with Harper, it had always given him a clearer mind for the rest of the day.


    He buckled his belt, adjusted himself and entered the meeting room, where before he even had the chance to speak, the bomb of Archibald Mooney''s was dropped.


    For a moment, the meeting room was suspended in silence. The only sound was the hum of the polarized glass walls and the distant tap of keys from the information unit downstairs. But in this room, in this hour, a single name had turned every breath sharp.


    Archibald Mooney.


    Rachel''s voice had only just faded when Darren''s eyes narrowed slightly¡ª only slightly.


    His arms remained by his side, his posture unmoved. But inside, the calculation had already begun.


    This city has enjoyed five months without the intervention of Moon Enterprises, especially after MWMO left plenty of companies in shambles. And now, the captain of this boat of insanity and greed was coming back.


    For every CEO and major business persona, this was big news. Archibald''s return wasn''t just an event¡ª as big as that was ¡ªit was a shift in the state''s business tectonics.


    Mr. Mooney''s presence alone did things for Calivernia''s businesses. It caused people to work harder, to thrive to reach his level, to try to meet him for inspiration, or to even work for or with him.


    He was a force. One that no one had expected to see rise so soon.


    His businesses in Russia must have been finished then, or maybe suspended. Either way, every CEO had to keep their eyes open. Many in the same business as him, feared for their product and stock sales.


    But Darren did not speak of fear. He did not even ask Rachel why Archibald was returning.


    He only focused on what was next for Steele Investments.


    Expand. Protect.


    That was all he was focused on.


    With that in mind, Darren inhaled, cold and deliberate.


    "Sandy," he said, his voice cutting clean through the tension, "do you remember what we talked about before?"


    "Do you mean the increased funding, sir?"


    "Yes. This should be done quickly. Allocate performance-based liquidity to every internal division. I want output margins increased by at least fifteen percent by next week. That includes staffing, incentives, and overtime burn."


    Sandy, already half-scribbling in her notepad, looked up and nodded. "What bracket do you want cap limits set at?"


    "That will be up to you," Darren replied.


    "Oh."


    "But it''s essential that we scale. Any team that surpasses 20% will receive direct bonus allocation from the High Yield Reserve Pool."


    Everyone appeared excited by that.


    Darren turned to his head of the IT Department


    "Kara. The mining rigs. The operation has been going smoothly and I have you to thank for that, but I also want to increase output immediately. What I''m saying here is a full performance audit by tomorrow. Replace any underperforming GPU stacks. Accelerate secondary coolant installation and prepare the Vault Index reports by week''s end."


    Kara leaned forward, one boot still propped against the table leg. "But boss, we''re already running at 91% rig efficiency across the main grid. You want me to risk burnout?"


    "Everything is a risk, Kara. What I want you to do is cross 32,000 BTC. That leverage will give us dominance when regulation talks begin, and that is going to happen soon. Use any and all resources."


    She whistled softly. "Copy that. I''ll reassign backup GPUs and re-engage the offshore coolant trials."


    "Do it."


    Next, he focused on his secretary of investments.


    "Amelia."


    She looked up.


    "You''re accelerating the warehouse project. No more grace periods, no more phased approach. I want full structural completion within six weeks. Hire local contractors if needed. I want drone security systems deployed and one internal loading bay finished before the month ends."


    Amelia''s eyes flicked with restrained tension. "Though six weeks is... aggressive, I can do it, sir. You can count on me. I''ll reroute the contract path through Sagomoto Wealth and push for double shifts."


    "Good. And double their pay for night crews. I want it operational at night before it''s legal by day."


    She paused, studying him, then nodded. "Understood."


    "Rachel," Darren said next, not even looking at her.


    She jerked slightly in her seat, startled out of her thoughts.


    He finally met her gaze. "Trendteller''s domestic market has reached capacity. I want you targeting international soft zones. South America, Southeast Asia, Oceania. B2B integration models, lite license variants, and modular ad packages."


    Rachel was still watching him¡ª his precision, his tone. His body language hadn''t changed since this morning. But all she could see was the memory of his office, of Harper Bell, pressed against the man now standing before them like nothing had ever happened.


    She blinked hard, pushing the thought aside.


    "Yes, sir. I''ll run Trendteller VISTA-5 through language mod engines and prepare beta tests for regional marketplaces. Do you want full distribution or staggered licensing?"


    "Staggered''s better. We scale by demand. Not expectation."


    "Understood," she said quietly.


    "And Simon."


    The older man adjusted his glasses, fingers twitching slightly from excitement. "What do you have for me, Mr. Steele?"


    "I want a digital sales channel structured under a clean-brand proxy. Focus on low-friction productized assets. Trendteller and Delvarate support add-ons, visual AI reports, auto-generated analytics. Structure it under an alias brand for trial. And..."


    Darren''s eyes narrowed.


    "Begin foundational design for Steele Tech."


    Simon blinked. "You''re activating it?"


    "Just the scaffolding. It needs to look like nothing more than a prototype think-tank. We''ll scale it when public sentiment demands a hero."


    Simon grinned faintly. "I''ll pull in our best UI contractors and draft a parallel pipeline for digital commerce modules. You''ll have a shell concept within three weeks."


    Darren thought about it for a while, and decided not to overwork the man. "Three weeks is fine."


    Simon nodded, jotting down notes like a student under examination.


    The room remained still.


    Darren''s gaze swept across them one last time. "You each have twenty-four hours to submit Phase-1 updates. I don''t want optimism. I want results. And if you can''t deliver results, I''ll find someone who can."


    No one said a word. No one challenged it.


    He stepped back from the table. "Dismissed."


    Chairs scraped, cautiously. Papers were gathered. Laptops closed. One by one, they filtered out ¡ªAmelia with her jaw tight, Kara thoughtful, Simon still muttering numbers to himself.


    Rachel was last. She lingered at the door for a second longer than she needed to. Her hand brushed the doorknob.


    She glanced back.


    Darren hadn''t moved. He was staring at the wall display, his jaw set. Cold. Indifferent. The man she''d once admired felt like a shadow of that same body now¡ª same face, same clothes. But something inside him was different now. Distant.


    Rachel left the room.


    The door closed with a whisper.


    Darren stood alone, the room darkening slightly as the tint adjusted with the rising sun. His mind, despite all the commands he had just given, was a storm beneath still waters.


    Then his phone buzzed.


    It was an incoming call from Penelope Castle. Darren stared at it for a moment, not moving or reacting.


    He just stood there, the name glowing softly, pulsing like a distant memory.


    Finally, he picked it up.

 Chapter 196: Welcome Back, Archie

    The news of Archibald Mooney''s return roared through Los Alverez like a storm breaking over a parched desert, electrifying the city with whispers of power, fear, and ambition.


    The man who could shift entire economies with a single phone call, who had sculpted Moon Enterprises into a colossus that dwarfed most nations, was back after five years of orchestrating his empire from the shadows of Zu?rich''s banking halls, Dubai''s gilded towers, and Kyoto''s serene boardrooms.


    The city''s pulse quickened as the black sedans rolled in from Los Alverez International Airport. Police convoys carved a path through the morning traffic, their sirens a low wail that seemed to bow to the man they escorted.


    The vehicles moved through the roads. Overhead, there were drones humming like mechanical vultures, their lenses trained on the procession, feeding live footage to every major news outlet.


    On the sidewalks, the city''s denizens stood frozen, watching with awe, curiosity, and unease. A young woman in a tailored blazer clutched her nokia phone, filming the convoy as it passed. "Is he really that powerful?" she asked.


    Beside her, a man in a rumpled suit snorted softly. "More than the Governor, sweetheart. And richer than God." He glanced at the sedans, his expression sour. "That bastard, Archibald Mooney doesn''t just own money, he owns the systems that make money mean something.


    Across the street, a street vendor selling artisanal coffee watched the convoy with narrowed eyes. ''He''s back to save us, they say. His presence here will increase the state''s GDP, they say!'' She turned away, pouring a latte with deliberate care, her hands steady but her mind racing.


    Los Alverez had changed in Mooney''s absence¡ª new players, new rules, new blood. She wondered if the old lion still had the teeth to match his roar.


    ....


    Archibald only had a moment before heading for an important meeting late that night.


    The meeting was taking place at the Empire Companies Calivernia HQ.


    It was a tall tower made of black obsidian glass that seemed to drink in the sunlight rather than reflect it.


    Its surface was streaked with platinum veins, a subtle boast of wealth that didn''t need to scream. To the ignorant, it was a building. To those who knew, it was the throne room where the Ten Empire Companies of Calivernia, each a titan worth over $10 billion, held court.


    These were not mere businesses; they were the sinew and bone of the state''s economy, bound by sacred contracts with the Department of National Enterprise.


    In exchange for their loyalty and aid to the government, they were granted divine privileges: exclusive trade routes, tax exemptions, priority access to cutting-edge technology, and the power to shape policy before it ever saw the light of day.


    Inside the building, the double doors of the meeting room swung open with a whisper, and the room fell silent.


    Two black-suited guards stepped aside as Archibald Mooney entered. He was a spectacle for a man of his age.


    His black suit was completely unadorned save for a single silver crescent moon pin at his collar, glinting like a shard of moonlight. At sixty-two, his age was a mere suggestion.


    He had broad shoulders, silver hair and a perfect beard of the same color. His posture was unyielding, and the piercing dark eyes below full eyebrows screamed power.


    Archibald''s presence was a force, like gravity bending the room toward him.


    The nine executives seated around the table rose as one, a gesture of respect that felt more like surrender. Archibald''s gaze swept over them, before taking his seat at the head of the table, the chair creaking faintly under his weight, and the room exhaled.


    "Let''s begin," he said, his low voice like the tolling of a bell.


    The rest of the executives nodded and prepared themselves.


    They were CEOs of very powerful companies in the State, some popular, some more conceited.


    Thomas Sinclair, the gray-haired mogul of Sinclair Group, broke the silence, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. "I welcome you back, Archibald. But we''ll go straight to business. As you know, the city''s economy is fracturing. MWMO''s collapse wasn''t just a hiccup, it was a hemorrhage. Clients are pulling liquidity faster than we can track. Our insurance partners are demanding audits, and the government''s sniffing around like wolves."


    He leaned forward, his manicured fingers steepled, his blue eyes glinting with accusation. ''This prideful bastard left us to clean up his mess. Now we''re drowning in it.''


    As if he could read his mind, Archibald refused to respond to Mr Sinclair, leading Cheyenne Lamb to speak up.


    She was almost amused by Thomas''s lashing statement. She tilted her head, her crimson lipstick smiling against her porcelain skin. "I wouldn''t like to agree with Thomas, but he is unfortunately right, Archibald. Moon Enterprises owns MWMO" Her voice was silk over a blade, each word precise. "This affects your company''s credibility, yes, but you still have to take responsibility for it."


    Archibald cleared his throat. "Or course I do. And I have. I''ve sent corporate invitations to the affected companies to state all their complaints and we''ve kept billions to fund settlements."


    "That hardly would be enough, Archibald." Vladimir Zurich, the grizzled head of Zurich Group, leaned forward, his thick Russian accent cutting through the room like a blunt axe. "My northern logistics are bleeding. MWMO held fifty percent of our digital staking agreements. All frozen. The government''s asking questions I can''t answer, and my shareholders are screaming for blood."


    His meaty fists clenched on the table, his weathered face flushed with barely contained fury. "Some of these problems can''t just be solved with money. The entire business world of Los Alverez is crumbling because you hired a perverted murderer to be in charge of the biggest wealth management company in the state."


    Archibald tilted his head at Vladimir. "Well that''s a little unfair. I had no way of knowing that Ryan Anders lived such a life."


    Richard Morrison exhaled a slow, cynical breath. "Let us take deep breaths here, okay? The medical sector was affected too, even our client tracking systems that were funneled through MWMO. But Archibald is here now, all this would be settled before the government starts to cut down our privileges."


    "Oh you better hope that doesn''t happen, or else you should expect a lawsuit."


    "Oh come on! Don''t go there!"


    "I''m damn serious!"


    "Ryan Anders was your friend, wasn''t he, Morrison? Of course you''ll come to his defense! I''m sure you''re a pervert as well!"


    "Pervert?! I''m no pervert! And I never defended Anders''s actions!"


    "You''ve never called it out either! Pervert!"


    "Watch your tongue!"


    "I just want my company back on track!"


    "Enough!"


    Archibald slammed on the table, silencing the room.


    Then, he leaned back in his chair, his face an unreadable mask. The room waited, breath held, for his response. His fingers tapped once on the marble, a sound that echoed like a gavel.


    "I gave him tools," he said finally. "He failed to wield them." His eyes moved from Cheyenne to Thomas, then to Vladimir and the rest of the room, pinning each like a specimen under glass. "But ''I'' did not fail."


    The words landed like a challenge, and the room bristled. Thomas''s lip curled, his thoughts a snarl. ''Arrogant bastard. You think you can still command us like dogs?*l''


    Cheyenne watched carefully ''What game are you playing, Archie?'' she thought.


    Archibald''s gaze hardened, his voice dropping to a near growl. "I came back because this state is unraveling. You''ve all forgotten how to hold your knives." He leaned forward, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud.


    "You''ve let children and their companies sway the public while you bicker and bleed. You''ve let Ryan Anders'' betrayal make you look weak. I''m here to remind you what strength looks like."


    Vladimir barked a laugh, short and harsh. "And you think you''ll fix it in a week? The government''s breathing down our necks, Mooney. The public trusts this boy, Darren Steele, more than us. You''re not a god anymore."


    Archibald''s gaze locked onto Vladimir, unyielding. "If you''re still bleeding by next week, it won''t be Moon Wealth''s fault, it''ll be yours."


    Vlad fell silent. Jaw tightened.


    Richard and Cheyenne watched carefully.


    Thomas Sinclair smoothed his tie, his voice deceptively calm. "We all know how powerful you are, Archibald, and we''re grateful you''re here to settle this. But some advice, if you want to restore the old order, we need to hit the people on every front¡ª media, policy, finances. We need to work fast to bring every affected company back to their feet."


    Archibald got on his feet. The executives fell silent, their eyes locked on him. "You''re right. I accept your advice, Thomas, whether it''s honest or not. But I also employ you all to help me and I will reward you with my own privileges for the next year."


    Everyone gasped and began to whisper.


    Archibald grabbed their attention again. "Ryan Anders failed you," he said, his voice like iron. "But I will not. Moon Enterprises will reclaim its subsidiaries. The economy of Los Alverez¡ª every contract, every district, every institution that slipped away¡ª will return to its rightful hands." He paused, his gaze sweeping the table, each executive feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "I will fix this. You just need to help me... or stay out of my way."


    Then, as they all watched, he turned around and left them to their thoughts and whispers. Cheyenne, especially, watched him with curiosity before eyeing the rest of the executives, seeing all their personal greed and goals hidden behind their eyes.


    The room was a powder keg, and Archibald Mooney had just lit the fuse.

 Chapter 197: Emotional Anchor

    When Penelope had called, Darren knew what it meant. She must have heard about Archibald''s return, or maybe she just missed him.


    Maybe she knew he was having a hard time and wanted to talk with someone..


    Penelope had a way of knowing these things. It was so easy for her to read him that he never even bothered lying.


    So when she asked him how he was, he told her the truth.


    And she told him... that she would be waiting in the park.


    After work, without speaking to anyone, Darren left the Complex, entered his Royce and drove to see her.


    Now, the park was quiet again.


    Not the still silence of absence, but the deep, resting quiet of something sacred¡ª preserved.


    Lavender bushes swayed softly along the path, lampposts hummed their warm golden light, and the evening breeze carried the faint scent of rosemary and pine.


    It was that brief window before sundown where the world stopped pretending and just... exhaled.


    And that''s where Darren Steele was.


    Not at his desk. Not flanked by security or shadowed by staff. But here¡ª beneath the crooked lamp by the bench with the chipped armrest¡ª with her.


    Penelope Castle lay across the length of the bench, her head resting gently on his lap, golden hair tumbling like soft ribbons across his thigh.


    She wore a knit cream cardigan over a faded blue sundress, her pale legs curled up under her, bare feet swinging slightly. Her fingers idly played with the hem of his coat, and her eyes gazed up at him¡ª not with awe or fear, but with affection, love and even reference.


    It was the most genuine affection Darren had ever felt. And he knew it because he could literally feel it emanating out of her each time she gazed at it.


    It was so strong that many times ¡ª like now ¡ª he would look away just because he had no idea how to react to it.


    Darren leaned back, one arm slung across the bench, his other hand resting lightly on her waist. He was in full black again¡ª tie loosened, shirt open at the collar, coat draped over the back of the bench. His expression was unreadable to most.


    But Penelope wasn''t most.


    To the world, Darren had become ice¡ª sharper than his rivals, colder than his friends, more calculated than anyone had the right to be at twenty-one.


    But not here.


    Not with her.


    Here, in this park where she first brought him a celebratory launch cake and hope, where she fed him dinner after work, where her soft teasing pulled his smile out of hiding like a secret¡ª here, he was still Darren before Ryan Anders and Gillian Henderson broke him.


    And even now, when his cold edge had thickened, he still came.


    Still answered her call.


    They hadn''t spoken for a while after he arrived. Penelope had just laid down and rested her head on him, content with the quiet. Darren hadn''t moved. Hadn''t needed to.


    This wasn''t the first time they had done this. Darren and Penelope had met here numerous times after work, and she was the one he told everything to. The only one who knew what was really happening with him.


    Penelope was his anchor.


    His balance.


    The reminder that he wasn''t born cold. He had become cold.


    Because he had to.


    But she reminded him what warmth felt like.


    Their relationship had deepened in that gentle, secret way most real things do. That night¡ª weeks ago¡ª they had gone shopping for suits and then she''d ask to go home with him.


    She''d given herself to him, and he hadn''t known what to say afterward, only that he felt like he didn''t deserve it.


    They hadn''t talked much about it since. But to Darren''s surprise, Penelope hadn''t asked for more.


    It was like she understood.


    She knew how busy he was. She didn''t want to tie a ribbon around his neck when the world was already trying to put him in chains.


    But Darren felt the guilt sometimes.


    He felt it when he didn''t call her for days.


    He felt it when he barely replied to her messages.


    He felt it when he saw Harper Bell undress in his office and didn''t tell her to stop.


    He felt it when he wanted to escape to her arms, but never had the courage to ask her to wait for him.


    Because he wasn''t sure who he was asking her to wait for anymore.


    Her voice drifted up through the air.


    "Archibald Mooney is back."


    He looked down at her. Her face was tilted up, glowing softly under the amber light.


    "Yes. I just heard this morning."


    Penelope smiled at his reserved reaction. "How are you holding up?"


    "I engross myself in meetings and work," he said. "What do I care about Archibald Mooney?"


    She giggled.


    > "You don''t have to pretend when I''m around, you know right?" she said, her fingers still tracing the edge of his sleeve.


    Darren looked at her but didn''t say anything. "Okay. Let''s change the topic. How''s Rachel? Are you still giving her the same serious face?"


    "Rachel''s fine."


    "Not what I asked, but okay. What of Amelia?"


    "She''s fine too. She''s been surprisingly effective. Running operations. And she''s smarter than most execs twice her age."


    "Kara?"


    He smiled faintly. "Still swearing at the cooling units."


    > "That''s good," she said with a giggle. "You like Kara a lot. I''ve noticed she makes you smile."


    Darren frowned slightly. "She just reminds me about me when I just started. I remember her reaction when I got my first car."


    Penny grinned and sighed, her cheek pressing closer to his thigh. "They all care about you, Mister. You know that right? They''re willing to sacrifice a lot for your company too. You''ve built something incredible."


    He didn''t reply.


    She felt it¡ª the way his body tensed just a little, the way his breath shifted.


    "You don''t believe that anymore?" she asked.


    He was quiet for a long time. Then he said:


    "I''m not sure what I''ve built anymore. All I know is that it''s growing. And that the people I''m going up against are older, richer, more powerful... more dangerous."


    He looked past the trees. The city was out there... watching. Always watching.


    "To survive, I might have to cross lines I won''t come back from. Things I might do... might erase the person I am. Or was."


    She was still. Then, softly:


    "Then come here."


    He blinked.


    Penny placed her hand on his cheek. "Come here. If you ever lose yourself, Mister Steele... come back to this park. To me. And I''ll help you find your way again."


    He looked down at her, but she didn''t look away.


    Her fingers lowered from his face and found his, intertwining.


    "You don''t have to be soft with the world," she said. "Be as ruthless as you need to be. Tear them down. Break the rules. Build your empire. Just..." she swallowed, "be soft when you''re with me. That''s all I want."


    For the first time in days, Darren smiled¡ª not the cold smirk he gave to rivals. A real smile.


    "You''d accept me like that?"


    "Are you kidding? I already do."


    He didn''t say anything else.


    He just leaned down, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and held her hand tighter as the wind whispered through the trees again.


    "Alright then. Just promise not to be missing when I need you the most."


    ...


    ...


    "I promise."

 Chapter 198: Reckless Sword

    After the meeting had finished that evening, the next day began with an extremely hot morning.


    The early sun cut through the clouds like a blade, scattering golden light across the marble helix of the Morrison Building.


    From the 91st floor, Richard Morrison stood by the glass wall of his private study, a crystal tumbler of scotch in hand and the skyline of Los Alverez spread before him like an empire waiting to be claimed.


    But not his empire.


    Not anymore.


    Archibald Mooney had returned.


    And just like that, Richard was the second-richest man in the state again.


    He took a slow sip of the aged Glenfarclas, letting the burn ride the back of his throat like a bitter truth.


    The numbers had already started adjusting. Market confidence surged at the news of Archibald''s return. His subsidiaries, his bonds, his government-linked asset vaults¡ª they''d begun soaking up institutional attention like sponges.


    Richard''s fingers tapped the glass softly.


    He had grown used to being the one behind the curtain¡ª the spider in the dark. His wealth was vast, diverse, fluid, not tied to the grandstanding of the Mooney legacy.


    But now, with Archibald back in the seat of power, every chain he controlled¡ª from pharmaceuticals to military contracts¡ª was one flick away from being tightened.


    And Richard knew it.


    More than that, he felt it. The shift in weight, the rearranging of the chessboard. One false move, one provable link to something unsavory, and Archibald could make half of Richard''s commercial framework freeze overnight.


    It wasn''t like he hated Archibald. He respected him greatly. Archibald was one of the reasons why Richard''s business expanded to the level it did.


    He had also spent the last few years doing Archibald''s bidding in Los Alverez. The Gareth Smithers situation was something he didn''t want to be a part of, yet, Archibald had forced him to fix it. Many other deals he had made in Archibald''s name and others he''d declined as well.


    Richard knew that at this time, with Archibald''s close monitoring, doing what he wanted was going to be even more difficult. Especially if they somehow concerned the old bloke in one or the other.


    Which meant...


    "This Darren Steele situation," he murmured aloud, "must be handled with precision."


    First of all, the boy had partnered with Leonard Holloway and for some reason, Leonard was now leading him in doctor ratings in the state and the country as a whole. Holloway Medicals was growing fast and was now a major competitor in the health market with Morrison''s Hospitals.


    Then the boy had messed up the whole Gareth Smithers cover up which led to Archibald having a reduction of trust in Richard''s execution.


    Then, the boy had cost him an ally in Donald Henderson, and a friend in Ryan Anders.


    His prote?ge?. His friend. His inside hand.


    Vanished. Disgraced. His legacy was torn and crumbled. And all because of Steele.


    Richard''s eyes narrowed slightly. Look at the damage he left the businesses of Los Alverez in.


    He never thought for one second that Anders managed the wealth of many companies which also had investments with smaller companies.


    Since Ryan left, everything fell to shambles while Darren Steele and Kaito Sagomoto flourished!


    Richard grunted.


    He should have taken care of it earlier, when Archibald was out of state. But now that the old lion was home, Richard had to play it quietly.


    No open warfare.


    Subtle knives. Silent weapons.


    And for that... he''d need a sword reckless enough to swing.


    In Moon Enterprises, on the 69th Floor where the executive office was, Tyler Mooney was lounging behind his desk when the door creaked open. He didn''t bother looking up.


    "If this is about the lunch order, just tell Maria to drop the caviar¡ª"


    "Tyler."


    The voice was a blade in velvet.


    Tyler blinked once, sat up a little straighter, and looked toward the doorway.


    There stood Richard Morrison, not announced, not escorted, simply there, like a shadow that had wandered into the light.


    "Mr. Morrison," Tyler said, masking his surprise with a grin. "To what do I owe the unexpected chill in my office?"


    Richard stepped in with the measured grace of a man who had never once knocked. He glanced around the modern decor, mildly unimpressed, before sitting without invitation in the leather chair opposite Tyler''s desk.


    "This is what you turned Ryan''s old office into. A shame. It seems your taste in furniture is as juvenile as your sense of subtlety."


    Tyler''s brow twitched, but he smiled. "And your taste in suits is still violently imperial. To what do I owe this honor?"


    Richard folded one leg over the other. "I''m here because the balance is shifting. Your father''s return re-establishes one pillar. But there''s another element that needs pruning."


    Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Ha! Ha! Ha! So losing Ryan Anders opened your eyes! If you''re talking about Darren Steele, then¡ª"


    "Don''t say his name like you know what he is." Richard''s voice was suddenly flat. Cold. "You think he''s a loud-mouth with clever tricks. I see him for what he is¡ª a calculated disruption. One that cost me a key asset. And one that now dances too close to state contracts I''ve worked decades to influence."


    Tyler leaned back. "So you''ve come to me because you want help ruining him. You must be desperate."


    "Pfft. Desperate? Such a word doesn''t exist in my dictionary. What I am is cautious, Tyler." Richard''s smile returned, tight and superior. "I''ve learned not to underestimate reckless princes."


    "Is that meant to flatter me or insult me?"


    "Pick your poison."


    Tyler smirked. "Alright then. You want to kill the boy king quietly. So what''s the ask?"


    Richard''s fingers steepled. "Your company controls several passive channels that influence startup acquisition, vendor certifications, and infrastructure deployment approvals. You also host the Moon Digital Bidding Gate¡ª the same one Trendteller will soon try to access for their international expansion."


    Tyler''s grin widened. "And you want me to block his access?"


    "No," Richard said softly. "That''s too visible. I want you to delay it. Create ''pending reviews.'' Introduce new documentation compliance rules. Make it look like bureaucracy."


    He leaned in.


    "And while you tangle his feet, I''ll start pulling his allies'' funding. Quietly. Efficiently."


    Tyler whistled. "You''ve really thought this through."


    "Of course I have. But here''s the part you''ll like..." Richard''s voice dropped. "You get to do it your way. Loudly, if you wish. Just make sure the Mooney name doesn''t get tied to it. We don''t want your father''s trouble now, do we?"


    "No. We don''t..." Tyler tapped a pen against his desk, considering. "What''s in it for me?"


    Richard stood smoothly. "Your father may be king. But I can make you something else. Something that doesn''t need a crown."


    He stopped there and turned toward the door.


    "You have your orders. Don''t disappoint me."


    As he left, Tyler looked down at the stack of files Lila Torres, CEO of Trendteller had submitted for Trendteller''s international deployment. He thumbed through them, smirking.


    > "Well, Darren," he said quietly. "Looks like I finally get to play with your food. Amir, Jaxon... It''s finally time to party!"

 Chapter 199: Archibalds Deeds

    For the first time in a very long time, the Moon Enterprises Headquarters in Calivernia finally had its king on the throne.


    That morning, the skyline of Los Alverez was drenched in a copper dawn, the morning sun slicing through the still air like a scalpel.


    At the top most floor of Moon Enterprises'' obsidian tower, Archibald Mooney stood behind his pristine desk, gazing down at the city like a sovereign over his kingdom.


    In his mind, this was a generic pose done by almost every powerful business man, but looking down at the disaster the business world of Los Alverez had fallen into filled him with anger, and yet, a sense of purpose.


    Behind him was his office.


    It was an austere room ¡ª no vanity, no clutter. A single Montblanc pen lay neatly beside a leather-bound ledger on the matte-black desk.


    He had a computer, letting out a soft hum as it displayed financial data in fluid streams of blue and gold. There were no portraits on the walls, he didn''t even hang the numerous awards he had won.


    All there was was a single framed inscription:


    "Control is the true currency."


    It was a truth that he lived by, knowing that those who were wealthy were still controlled by their wealth, and only those who recognized that and strived for true power would ever wield actual control.


    Archibald narrowed his eyes at the view, his office loud with silence. This silence remained sacred until a knock disturbed it.


    "Enter," Archibald said without turning.


    The door slid open and in stepped Lily Smithers, one of a dozen executive assistants under the Moon establishment.


    Lily walked in with an aura of youth, efficiency, and invisibility in the way Archibald demanded ¡ª wearing a fitted navy blouse tucked into gray slacks, her blonde hair knotted back.


    She approached with a stack of thin files in hand.


    "The regulatory team will be arriving in fifteen minutes, sir. Settlement documentation is finalized. All NDAs have been reviewed and appended."


    He didn''t look at her. "The Los Alverez Tribune?"


    "They''ve agreed to embargo the liquidity figures until noon."


    "And the client list?"


    "Prioritized. Ventura Shipping, Bryson Medical, Hightower Group. Their CEOs are are on their way."


    He gave a single nod. "Thank you. Go ahead and send in Legal."


    Lily turned around and left the office, while Archibald watched coldly.


    Some minutes later, three members of the state''s financial regulation board stood across from Archibald now, stiff in their expensive but poorly tailored suits. They glanced nervously between each other, the city''s sprawling chaos reflected in the window behind him.


    Archibald sat at the head of the black-marble conference table, his hands folded, gaze unmoving.


    "Moon Enterprises," he began, "accepts complete financial responsibility for the mismanagement and liquidation of MWMO. Every client will be repaid. Dollar for dollar."


    He motioned on his secretary who slid three identical contracts across the table, as if summoned by ghosts.


    "No caveats. No escape clauses. Just resolution."


    The lead regulator, a hard-jawed woman named Braxley, stared at him with suspicion. "You''re being... unusually compliant, Mr. Mooney."


    He didn''t blink. "I fully accept the effects of my subsidiary. This is math."


    He clicked a key on his laptop and turned it to face the regulators. A cascade of numbers shimmered to life on the screen. "A $4.7 billion injection. Immediate liquidity to the affected entities. It will be audited quarterly, which means no deferments."


    Her pen hovered above the paper. "And Ryan Anders?"


    "I have no knowledge of his location. If you do find him, I fine with everything. In fact, I employ you punish him to the fullest. Prosecute him. Hang him. Send his ashes to his lawyers. He doesn''t matter."


    That got silence.


    "Sign the contracts," Archibald said coolly. "And by midday, the market will remember how stability feels."


    All regulators looked at each other. "It''s good to have you back, Mr. Archibald."


    They signed.


    After the regulators left, Archibald began the most important part of this situation: helping affected companies regain their strength.


    In the war room, he entered without announcement. His division heads were already seated, but got on their feet the moment he stepped in, before quickly taking their seats again.


    Eduard Voss, Head of Acquisitions, leaned forward, blinking twice like he had difficulty reading. "We''re seeing clients hesitate to recommit. Should we apply leverage?"


    "Freeze all talent exits," Archibald ordered, moving to the head of the table. "Triple severance packages for any employee who stays. If they leave¡ª sue them. I''ve given you all claws. They''re there for you to use them."


    The orders came like gunfire. Archibald, as strict as they came, knew how important it was to reduce as much fire as possible from hitting him and his subsidiaries.


    At the same time, settlements were also a priority.


    "Mira," he said to the CFO, "prepare debt offsets. Ventura Shipping owes Moon Shipping $800 million. We''ll forgive it, but only if they surrender 62% equity."


    Mira blinked. "That''ll be viewed as opportunism."


    "That''s completely ridiculous. Everything is opportunism. What this is is survival. Optics are your department. I expect headlines like: ''Mooney''s Redemption.'' ''Titan of Industry Protects What''s Left.'' MWMO failed, but I need you to make failure look like mercy."


    "Yes, sir."


    "Begin re-acquisition negotiations. If they resist... remind them who underwrites their futures."


    The first company to approach for re-acquisition was Ventura Finance.


    The CEO arrived early. Gregorio Danz, Ventura''s top man. He looked like a CEO from another era ¡ª sweating, red-faced, with a tie that had been loosened three times already.


    But with Archibald''s strategy, he was about to sweat even more.


    "This is a corporate takeover," he said, staring at the equity agreement before him.


    Archibald sat with the patience of a butcher. "No, this is what you must agree to if you want your company to survive. If you don''t sign, I call in your loans at sunset. You''ll be bankrupt before the market closes."


    Danz swallowed. "You''re bleeding us."


    "Incorrect, Mr. Danz," Archibald replied, "Ryan Anders did that. I''m the transfusion."


    The man signed, hands shaking.


    The second meeting was less smooth.


    Eleanor Bryson, founder of Bryson Medical, strode in with steel in her step and fire in her voice.


    "Your equity is a leash," she said coldly. "I won''t hand you my life''s work."


    Archibald lifted one hand, conjuring her debt structure in a glowing web of red.


    "You''re $1.2 billion under. Three quarters overdue. If you don''t sign, you won''t just lose your company. You''ll probably be swallowed by Morrison''s or Holloway Medicals. You''ll lose your patents. Let''s not forget your daughter''s college fund, and the tiny legacy you''ve managed to build."


    Archibald was brutal. "Let us be start here, Mrs. Bryson."


    Eleanor''s hand trembled. But she signed.


    After many other companies, the last one for the day was unavailable, the chair was empty.


    Archibald frowned. "Surprising."


    Lily stepped in, whispering near his shoulder. "Hightower Group''s chairman turned his jet around. He''s no longer on his way here."


    Archibald''s eyes narrowed. "That''s ludacris. He needs Moon Wealth to survive. Get him on call."


    His secretary approached with a phone.


    Kaito Sagomoto was surprisingly the one who answered.


    "Mr. Mooney," he said in calm English. "What a rare occasion."


    Archibald''s jaw set. "Sagomoto. Long time no see. Where is Hightower?"


    Sagomoto smiled. "He''s with us now. A merger has taken place."


    "A merger? Don''t be ridiculous, they don''t have the capital."


    "Indeed they don''t, but my client does. Tell me, Archibald. Have you ever heard of STEELE INVESTMENTS?"


    Archibald stood still.


    Kaito smiled. "You have, haven''t you? I''m sure you''re away that the CEO is the same man who took down two of your accomplices; Gareth Smithers and Ryan Anders."


    No response from Archibald.


    "Don''t worry about Hightower. Like many other of MWMO''s startup portfolios, they''ll be fine under Steele Investments. And oh... Mr. Steele himself sends his regards."


    The line died.


    Silence. Archibald stayed still, eyes still on the empty chair. Then, his lips parted sharply.


    "And there''s the third strike, curious Mr. Steele. Now... you have my attention."

 Chapter 200: Archibalds Invitation

    That same day, the Grand Continental Hall located just some few distance away from the Steele Complex in Mauravard Street had a major event for the day.


    The building was a cubical shaped skyscraper, shimmering under a canopy of opulence. It was built by a group of top investor companies many years ago to house events such as these.


    Inside, the ceilings were high and vaulted, adorned with specialized golden filigree designed with different types of business ventures: tech, infrastructure, fashion, food, heathcare, etc.


    Massive chandeliers, their crystals catching the light like captured stars, cast a warm glow over the gathered elite. The air was thick with the quiet elegance of power because in this room, some of the most wealthiest people were present.


    There were men in bespoke suits tailored to perfection, and women in gowns that whispered wealth with every step. Conversations hummed beneath the clink of crystal flutes, names traded in hushed tones, old money forging alliances with new ambition.


    The Global Innovation and Investment Summit was in full swing.


    This year, Los Alverez played host, a city where wealth and vision collided on every polished street corner. The hall was a labyrinth of curated spaces: interactive lounges with plush velvet seating, semi-private booths draped in silk partitions, and sleek demo stages where the future was pitched in real time.


    The television displayed market trends, startup valuations, and intricate data visualizations of emerging industries.


    Darren attended this summit in a gray suit and blue tie, hands folded with his steel blue eyes ahead.


    But he wasn''t alone.


    Olivia Sinclair was beside him, her fitted black sheath dress catching the light with delicate pearl straps that shimmered as she moved.


    She had her beautiful emerald hair falling over one shoulder, while her lips sparkled red.


    As CEO of a rising venture incubator, she carried herself with the calm authority of someone who knew her worth. This was a good opportunity for her to get her first egg company to incubator so her sharp emerald eyes scanned the room, missing nothing.


    Her company''s booth was in between those of two other major companies. It said Olive Rub Capital with a simple logo of a rolling olive branch and a mission statement etched in clean serif font: Cultivating Early Visions.


    When she and Darren had arrived, they hadn''t lingered there long. Booths were for amateurs. The real game at summits like this was played in the margins¡ª over drinks, in fleeting glances, in perfectly timed encounters.


    Now, they stood together on a high-railed mezzanine platform overlooking a demo pit where a Singapore-based innovator was pitching a computer application for urban planning.


    The presenter''s voice carried, smooth and confident, as the TV screens around her showcased algorithms that optimized energy grids in real time, helping cities through her app.


    "Impressive," Olivia murmured, sipping her champagne, the bubbles catching the light. "But half these people don''t know whether to back digital assets or run from it."


    Darren''s eyes flicked to the demo, then back to the crowd. "Because they weren''t there when it was just code in a basement. I understand how digital assets might throw people off."


    Olivia smiled. "Of course you do. You''re investing in the riskiest digital asset of all."


    Darren didn''t say anything.


    She tilted her head, studying him. "You''re quieter than usual."


    He still didn''t respond, his gaze distant, scanning the sea of faces below.


    She leaned closer, her voice softening. "Everything alright, Darren? Or let me guess, this has to do with a particular multi billionaire returning yesterday."


    "No man dictates my mood, Olivia," he said, his tone flat but pointed.


    Olivia didn''t flinch. "No, but this man does. I''m sure you''re sick to your stomach at this point. His return''s basically been the talk of the summit."


    He turned to meet her eyes, his expression unreadable. "Unlike other women, you are a bit mouthy when you speak to me."


    She smirked. "Yet you never attempt to shut me up."


    Darren looked at her, lowered his gaze to he inviting lips before looking away.


    Her smile remained, warm but knowing. "You''re not as opaque as you think. Not to me, at least."


    Darren returned to her gaze for a moment, then looked away. He didn''t argue. "You should focus on finding your first portfolio company. The former one streaming service with subscription payment seemed solid."


    He lifted his brow at her. "Don''t you think?"


    Olivia twisted her lip and gestured toward the North Stage, where a startup was wrapping up a presentation. "I''m looking for something similar to Delverate. Their demo is pulling attention presently. That smart analytics platform you helped them build? It''s got VCs circling. They might close two or three deals before the day''s out."


    "I know," Darren said, his voice low. "Amelia sent me their updated pitch deck this morning."


    Olivia''s eyes lingered on him, searching. "You pulled them out of the fire, you know. That platform was dead in the water before you stepped in."


    He stared out over the crowd, his jaw tight. "You''re not attempting to flatter me, are you, Olivia?."


    "Depends..." "...Are you flattered."


    A beat of silence passed between them, heavy with unspoken history and the tension of their recent close proximity.


    "I think you should go for the streaming service," Darren quickly shifted gears.


    "I''ll check them out," she agreed, sipping her champagne.


    They stood there, continuing to watch the display of different startups, sampling their products and asking for capital.


    But then, the rhythm shifted.


    Two men approached, their presence slicing through the hum of the crowd.


    They weren''t staff, nor were they typical attendees. Their black suits were immaculate, the fabric catching the light with a subtle sheen, cuffs adorned with faint silver embroidery that spoke of bespoke craftsmanship.


    There were no badges on the suits and they did not pretend to be authorities, rather they moved with it. People walked out of their way like they seemed to recognize who they were, and when Darren and Olivia turned, they were surprised to see men had stopped before them.


    The taller of the two, his temples dusted with salt-gray, extended a gloved hand. In it was a slim, silver-edged envelope, sealed with a wax insignia bearing the crescent of Moon Enterprises.


    "Mr. Steele," he said, his voice deep and smooth, carrying the weight of purpose. "Mr. Mooney requests your presence. A private supper, the date is on the letter."


    Darren''s brows creased slightly as he looked down at the envelope before deliberately taking it.


    The man''s gaze flicked to Olivia briefly, acknowledging her presence without addressing her.


    "Details are also enclosed," the man continued. "And dscretion is expected."


    With a curt nod, he and his companion turned and melted back into the crowd, their departure as seamless as their arrival.


    Olivia gazed at the letter in Darren''s hands and half-chuckled, gasping at the same time. "Did you just get invited to a dinner by the most powerful man in the state?"


    -------------


    Sorry for the late update today!


    But dear readers, the amount of golden tickets we have is abysmal ????. Please, spend your shiny tickets on my baby! It helps the novel greatly.

 Chapter 201: Can I Come With?

    The wax cracked cleanly beneath Darren''s thumb.


    Inside the envelope, the letter was printed on thick parchment, silver-lined and delicately textured like something designed for nobility.


    When Darren thought of it, he remembered that Archibald also owned a printing press, Moon Papers. The half thought brought into perspective once again the amount of wealth Archibald had amassed through multiple channels.


    The scent of expensive cologne lingering from the paper brought his thoughts back to the present. It was as if the air around Archibald Mooney himself had been bottled in it.


    When Darren fully opened it, acknowledging the beautiful calligraphy, he went on to read:


    Moon Enterprises


    Executive Office of the Chairman


    Archibald Theodore Mooney


    Mr. Darren Steele,


    You are cordially invited to a private supper hosted by Chairman Archibald Mooney. The gathering will take place tonight at Le Cha?teau de la Lune, Los Alverez. You will be directed to the private reserved lounge, Eldar. A table has been arranged within the North Lounge, accessible by invitation only.


    Arrival Time: 8:30 PM


    Dress Code: Formal Black


    Security: Cleared under Steele Investments, Argent Security


    Privacy Protocol: Level-6 Discretion


    With honesty, this is not a negotiation. This is a conversation.


    Kind Regards,


    Marius Gorran


    Private Secretary to the Chairman


    Darren stared at it for a long moment, the weight of the moment sinking in with each line.


    "Can I come with?" Olivia''s lovely voice came from beside him as she leaned in to see.


    He turned slightly to his left, eyes scanning her dainty face. She faced him and smiled.


    Her face was just a few inches away from his own, one brow lifted, her arms rested on the curves of her waist. Her green hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and that same glint of ambition rested behind her gaze.


    "I mean... that''s a little intense for a dinner," Olivia''s voice came from behind. "If I didn''t know I would think Mr. Mooney was going to propose."


    "You read it?" he asked.


    She shrugged. "I''ve been waiting helplessly for you to break that wax seal. And yes, I have eyes."


    He set the letter down and folded the envelope precisely. "So what do you think?"


    "I think you should dress your absolute best," Olivia replied, walking past him toward the window overlooking Mauravard Street. "My dad always hated Archibald Mooney, but he still respected him. Heck, I''m completely stunned that he invited you to a dinner."


    She turned to him and grinned. "Well, it''s not just a dinner, is it?"


    Darren pursed his lips. "It isn''t?"


    Olivia chuckled. "Did you really expect that you were just going to have supper with the Lion of Business?"


    "Of course not," Darren replied.


    "It''s a message, Darren. Most likely a warning. Or... a recruitment attempt." She shrugged. "Maybe Mr. Mooney sees what I see when I look at you and he wants your skills in his company."


    Darren said nothing. His eyes returned to the silver-embossed logo. Le Cha?teau de la Lune was one of the most elite dining lounges in the entire state. The kind of place where billion-dollar mergers began with the pop of a bottle.


    And it also belonged to Archibald Mooney, because of course it did.


    The direct translation of the name read, The Moon Castle. It was one of Archibald''s earliest business acquisitions, and had grown to be a gathering house of the elites of the elites.


    Archibald shared one strategy with Darren, and that was using homegrown to tilt the control of a discussion in their favor.


    Though Darren was unsure if someone like Archibald Mooney even needed that. Clearly, regardless of wherever he was, as long as it was in this state, power would always be his upper hand.


    "So..." Olivia spoke lightly, sitting on his desk and swinging her legs. "Do you want me to come with?"


    His brows lifted slightly.


    "Not into the dinner," she clarified, "but I could wait outside. You know. Make sure you don''t get poisoned or drugged or kidnapped by billionaire cultists."


    He scoffed at that. "No need. But thanks for the concern."


    She stepped closer, gaze softening. "I mean it. Archibald Mooney doesn''t just invite people out of curiosity. This is chess. He either wants to strike a deal or remove a piece from the board."


    "I know."


    "Let me come with you. I think it''ll be good. There are many games Archibald could try to play in this meeting, Darren. I think when he sees me, the daughter of his colleague, he''d be thrown off. Even if only slightly."


    Darren creased his brow. She was right about that."


    They stood in silence for a moment, the city humming softly beyond the glass. Then, with a smile on her face, Olivia changed the subject.


    "By the way, I listened to your advice and I spoke to the streaming service founders over the phone."


    He glanced at her. "You''re going with them?"


    "I think so. They''ve got traction, but no structure. Good product, poor packaging. Which means they''re exactly what I need for Olive Run''s first success story."


    He nodded. "When''s the meeting?"


    "I scheduled it for tomorrow. 10 AM, downtown. I want you there."


    "I might be busy with my team''s report but..." He caught her judgemental expression. "I think I can make it."


    She smiled. "Good. But don''t say it like it''s optional. You''re backing me. You''re showing up."


    "And I will."


    "Perfect."


    She stepped away from the window and moved toward the side table, pouring herself a glass of water. Then, casually:


    "Do you think your invitation has anything to do with my father?"


    Darren looked up, surprised. "Your father?"


    She met his gaze. "They''re not just colleagues. They''re rivals too. He and Archibald go way back. Old rivals. Old allies. It blurs sometimes. But if Archibald thinks you''re cozy with me, he might see you as trying to get in through the Sinclair door."


    "Am I?"


    She tilted her head, considering. "Maybe. But you''re smarter than that. You don''t need my name to get through doors. You have your own keyring. Besides, my dad and I aren''t on the best of terms right now."


    Darren stood up and sunk his hands into his pockets. "Maybe you should start working on your daddy''s issues before you start bossing me around, Olivia."


    Their eyes lingered for a moment longer. "If you don''t want me bossing you around then do something about it."


    Olivia turned to leave.


    "Just remember," she said over her shoulder, "if you get eaten alive tonight, I''m claiming your entire whiskey cabinet."


    "I''ll write it into the will," Darren replied.


    She paused at the door.


    "Dress sharp, Darren. I''d hate to outdress you to your own reckoning."


    She left, the echo of her heels fading.


    Darren turned back to the letter.


    Le Cha?teau de la Lune. Archibald Mooney. Dinner. War or alliance?


    He looked down at his black cufflinks, then at the clock.


    ''I should prepare.''

 Chapter 202: Rachels Words

    Just as he was about to leave, the door opened once again and Rachel Teschmacher slipped through it, her heels whispering against the polished hardwood.


    She carried her usual pack of files, her dark hair was swept into a neat side wave, sheathing one eye, though the other showed the emotions stirring inside her.


    Her steps as well were tentative, as if she were crossing a tightrope. Beneath her composed exterior, anxiety coiled like a spring, tightening with every moment she got closer.


    Darren was by his desk, a solitary figure haloed by the city''s glow. His charcoal suit was impeccable, but his posture¡ª arms crossed, shoulders rigid¡ª spoke of a man barricaded within himself.


    "I just saw Miss Sinclair leave" Rachel said softly, her voice barely disturbing the stillness. "Is everything alright?"


    Darren didn''t move. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, until it seemed the room itself was holding its breath.


    "There''s nothing to worry about," he said at last, his voice low, clipped, like a door closing. "You really do have a problem with the door as of late. There has to be a knock before you use the knob, don''t you remember?"


    Rachel gulped. "Yes. I forgot again. I''m sorry."


    Darren didn''t say anything .


    Rachel glanced around, searching for Harper, when she didn''t see her anywhere, she stepped closer, stopping just short of his desk, close enough to feel the weight of his isolation. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach out, but she clasped them together instead.


    "Not just with her and the company. I mean with you, Darren," she said, her voice aching.


    Darren side eyed her. "There''s nothing wrong with me, Rach. I''m completely fine."


    "So why do you feel so different? Distant."


    Darren''s jaw tightened, a subtle shift in the line of his profile. He didn''t turn.


    "You''re shutting everyone out," she pressed. "Even me. And you have been for months now, like you''re carrying something too heavy to share. You used to trust me with more than schedules and reports."


    He turned then, his steel-blue eyes meeting hers. For a moment, something flickered there¡ª regret, perhaps, or a memory of late nights spent strategizing over coffee, that night in the hotel, that night in his home.


    But the flicker vanished, replaced by a guarded coolness.


    "It''s not what you think," he said, the words flat and final. "I''ve just been busy.


    "Darren, you used to tell me when you were busy." Rachel''s chest tightened. "You''d sit me down, explain the next move, ask what I thought. Now it''s just... orders. Cold looks. Silence."


    Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and she swallowed hard, steadying herself. "I miss you, Darren. The real you. The one who saw me as more than just your secretary. The one who saved me."


    His gaze softened, just for a second, and she thought she saw the man she remembered¡ª. the one who''d stayed late to debate market trends, who''d once called her his sharpest ally. But then his expression hardened, and he looked away, back to the city that seemed to hold all his answers.


    Rachel''s voice reduced to a whisper as she came close. "I know that what happened with Grant scared you..."


    "I''m not scared, Rachel." Darren''s eyes snapped back to hers, sharp and defensive.


    "Aren''t you?" she challenged, stepping closer, her voice trembling with conviction. "You''re still young. It''s normal for you to be afraid of losing what you''ve built, especially when your rivals are older and more experienced than you. Please Darren, just come back. We all want to help you. I want to help you."


    She came closer and touched his face with her palm. "I love you."


    The air between them crackled, charged with truths neither wanted to face, and even stronger with the words she''d just uttered.


    Darren''s eyes glistened for a moment, his hands flexed at his sides, as if he were gripping an invisible weight. For a moment, she thought he might speak, might let her in.


    But then he stepped back, retreating from the light, from her.


    "We''ll talk later," he said, his tone final, like a gate slamming shut. "I have to prepare for something."


    Rachel''s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her. She forced a smile, brittle but professional. "Fine. Then let me help. What do you need?"


    He nodded toward the desk, his voice returning to its usual clipped efficiency. "Pick up my suit. The grey Kiton. It''s at Zovari''s on Fifth. Tell them to steam it twice. I''ll need it for tomorrow."


    She arched a brow, a spark of their old dynamic flickering. "Is there a big meeting I should know of?"


    "I''ll tell you about it after," he said, his eyes drifting to the door as he headed towards it.


    "Okay. Whatever you need," Rachel replied as she watched him leave.


    Meanwhile, across the state, in a sleek high-rise that pierced the clouds, Richard Morrison stood in his glass-walled boardroom.


    The room was a fortress of modern excess having charts blooming across televised displays: Holloway Medical''s expansion metrics, growth trajectories of Steele-linked data firms, and a web of minor contracts orbiting Darren''s empire like satellites drawn to a star.


    Morrison''s jaw was set as he stared at the numbers. Archibald''s return had reshuffled the Empire Companies, tilting the board in ways Morrison couldn''t abide. Darren Steele''s influence, once a manageable thorn, now threatened to choke his own ambitions in the health and data sectors.


    Especially since he had allied with his biggest competitor.


    "Enough," he muttered with venom.


    Pressing a button, he summoned a list of Holloway Medical''s third-party vendors. These were small firms supplying everything from diagnostics to supply chain logistics. His eyes narrowed as he tapped three names, highlighting them in red.


    "Acquire silent stakes," he ordered Kessler, his assistant. "Funnel the purchases through The Morrison? Brand. I don''t want flags or traces."


    His assistant, a wiry man named Kessler with a perpetually neutral expression, stood at the edge of the room, beside a laptop. He nodded once, fingers already moving to execute the command.


    Morrison wasn''t done. He tapped another button, and the display pivoted to a blueprint of Morrison''s Downtown Medical Center, a gleaming facility catering to the ultra-wealthy.


    "Launch the private elite wing. Target everyone with gold-tier Holloway insurance packages. Offer exclusivity ¡ªpersonalized care, private suites, concierge diagnostics. Pull their clients. Hard."


    "That''ll draw attention. Leonard Holloway isn''t blind."


    Morrison''s lips curled into a cold smile. "Let them notice. By the time they do, we''ll have their foundation crumbling."


    Kessler said nothing else and quickly executed the orders.

 Chapter 203: Its Your Turn, Miranda

    Back in the Steele Complex, Miranda Sloane, Portfolio Manager, sat in her office, a compact space lined with screens and neatly organized files.


    Her blonde hair was pulled into a low bun, her glasses perched on her nose as she clicked through procurement records on her tablet.


    The data was routine. Stuff like this was what she handled everyday: the vendor contracts, the delivery schedules and the payment logs.


    As she went through each of them, she suddenly stopped, the arrow of her mouse pausing at the center of the screen.


    ''That''s strange,'' Miranda thought. A discrepancy had caught her eye. A frown creased her brow as she zoomed in. There were seven third party vendors that were exclusively signed with My Holloway and Darren, but owned by random stakeholders.


    However, out of nowhere, the other had changed in three of these seven Holloway Medical''s key suppliers.


    Normally that wouldn''t have been something to raise an eye about, but the new name of the owner of these suppliers was what was worrying.


    "Morrison..." Miranda muttered, squinting her eyes at the screen. ''What the hell is he trying to do?''


    The trail was buried deep, hidden behind shell companies and offshore accounts, but not invisible. The kind of protection Darren had set up required someone skilled greatly to oversee it.


    Miranda was that someone. So this was very visible to her.


    Quickly, she grabbed her laptop and hurried down the corridor to the logistics hub, her low heels clicking against the polished floor.


    Once she got inside, she squeezed herself through the moving busy people, finding her way. As usual, the hub was a hive of activity¡ªscreens glowing with real-time data, analysts murmuring into headsets led by Simon Wilkes who was desperate to finish his report before tomorrow, and the faint hum of servers underpinning it all.


    Miranda successfully got past it all and entered the door at the end of the room. There, she found the office of the Secretary of Investments.


    At the end of the office, behind an oak desk sat Amelia Forrest, her brunette hair tied back in a messy bun, her fingers flying across a code interface as she optimized warehouse sequencing for the company''s next expansion phase.


    "Amelia," Miranda said, her voice urgent but controlled.


    Amelia didn''t look up, her eyes locked on the streams of code. "Talk, Miranda. I''m in the middle of debugging phase two''s logistics pipeline. Boss isn''t in a very good mood so I don''t want to submit late."


    Miranda bit her lip. It was exactly because Mr. Steele was in a sour mood that she was meeting Amelia for help. Something like this, if he found out later, could make all hell break loose.


    So she slid the laptop onto the desk, its screen displaying the vendor data. "I think there''s a problem. Or a potential one... at least." She pouted before jumping right in.


    "Look. It''s Richard Morrison. He''s making quiet moves against Holloway-linked partners. I was just checking the records like I usually do and I saw that he''s buying silent stakes in their vendors. I don''t know if I should just monitor it silently but surely, If we don''t act, he could undercut Mr. Steele''s entire health sector stake."


    Amelia read the screen and cursed under her breath, her fingers pausing mid-keystroke. She leaned forward, scanning the records with sharp, calculating eyes. "No wonder he and Ryan were friends. They''re so alike."


    She adjusted, took a file from her cupboard and went through warehousing laws, doing two things at once. "From the looks of it, he''s playing the old game. Silent equity grabs so there''s no paper trail until the contracts are locked."


    "Oh. I see that now." Miranda bent low. "Can we block it?" she asked, her tiny voice tight with urgency.


    Sighing, Amelia left the law files and tapped a few commands on the keyboard, pulling up transaction logs and vendor pathways. "We can redirect some of their supply chains, delay the deals with dummy bids. I think that way we could buy ourselves a week, maybe two. But that''s a bandage, not a fix." She leaned back, her expression grim.


    "I said Richard Morrison is using the same strategy as Ryan Anders but it''s a different approach. He''s using power while Ryan focused too much on tactics. And unfortunately... Richard is more powerful than our boss "


    She thought for a while and let out an even heavier sigh. "Look, Miranda. If we want to stop this, Darren needs to know. Now."


    Miranda appeared thoughtful. "Okay. So you''re going to tell him, right?"


    Amelia said nothing, she only gave her an expressionless yet knowing look.


    Miranda stiffened, her fingers tightening around the laptop. "Me?"


    "Yes, you," Amelia said, her tone sharp but not unkind. She turned back to her screens and the warehouse files, resuming her work. "I''m drowning in construction protocols. Warehouse phase two is a beast that I''m having the hardest time taming, and I can''t step away. This is your expertise, Miranda. You''ve got the data. You''ve got the insight. You''re the one who found out about it. Take it to him."


    Miranda hesitated, her gaze dropping to the laptop. So far, she''d always been the quiet one, the portfolio manager who thrived in spreadsheets and shadows, not boardrooms and confrontations.


    She''d helped sometimes but overall she''d done her best to avoid too much discourse, especially because it seemed like everyone was already together before she came in.


    It was like she was the new member of a popular band who didn''t want to try hard in order to fit in.


    She bit her lip again, a habit. The thought of facing Darren¡ª especially now, when he was a fortress of silence and a cold face¡ª made her stomach twist.


    Amelia glanced over, catching her hesitation. "What are you so scared of? He''s not going to yell at you or anything."


    "I know, it''s just..."


    "Look. We all did this. Each of us had our time with Mr. Steele to help us fit in. It''s unfortunate that yours is at a time when he''s a bit... stern. But... you want to help him? Then step up. It''s your turn to be part of his circle. He needs people he can trust, not just people who follow orders."


    Miranda''s jaw tightened, a spark of resolve flaring in her chest. She nodded once, decisive. "Alright."


    Then, with some confidence, she picked up the laptop and turned, heading out of the hub and toward Darren''s office, the weight of her decision settling over her like a mantle.


    ''I''m just a country girl,'' she thought. ''This whole thing was Kara''s idea. I''m not built for this.''

 Chapter 204: Old Acquaintances

    Later that day, still in the afternoon, the black company car glided to a stop along the polished curb of Fifth Avenue, its engine purring softly before falling silent.


    Rachel Teschmacher stepped out, adjusting the strap of her leather satchel. The late spring sun bathed the street in golden light, reflecting off the towering glass storefronts that lined this exclusive stretch of Los Alverez.


    Zovari''s, the city''s premier tailoring house, a haven for senators, tech titans, and foreign dignitaries who demanded nothing less than perfection, waited for her.


    So, Rachel pushed through the glass door, greeted by a soft chime and she entered. A wave of cool air enveloped her, carrying the rich, layered scents of cedarwood, bergamot, and the faint, crisp musk of freshly pressed silk.


    The lounge was filled with expensive clothes here and there, buttons of gold, costly leather, gold-bottled perfumes.


    A bespoke attendant, impeccably dressed in a charcoal vest, stood behind a polished walnut counter. He glanced up, offering a practiced smile. "Welcome to Zovari''s, Miss Teschmacher. Here for Mr. Steele''s order?"


    Rachel returned a polite nod, brushing a stray auburn strand behind her ear. "Yes, the Kiton. Is it ready?"


    "Of course. It''s being finalized now. Please, make yourself comfortable."


    She sank into one of the buttery leather couches near the center of the lounge, crossing her legs and waited.


    There, all she could think about was Darren. The man who used to look at her like she was his anchor. The one who was so passionate with her. Who had shared almost everything, even their bodies...


    ... In the most ruest of places.


    Now? He was a fortress, his thoughts locked behind a wall of ambition and secrets. Rachel exhaled, her fingers tightening around the edge of her satchel. Was this change in him permanent? Had the man she loved slipped away for good?


    She hoped not. Thankfully, she had still seen traces of him even that morning.


    "Rachel?"


    The voice sliced through her reverie, soft but unmistakable. Rachel''s head snapped up, and her breath caught as she met a pair of familiar bright eyes.


    Lily Smithers stood at the entrance of the lounge, her silhouette framed by the sunlight pouring through the glass door.


    She looked different; subtler, somehow. The razor-sharp edge that once defined her was gone, replaced by a quiet weariness. Her cream blazer clung to her slim frame, her blond hair pulled into a low, practical knot.


    Despite what had happened to her and her father two months ago, she was still striking, but the fire in her eyes had dimmed, softened by time or regret.


    "Lily," Rachel said, rising slowly. Her voice was cool but not unkind, threaded with a cautious curiosity. "It''s you... Been a while."


    Lily''s lips curved into a faint, tired smile. "Yes, been a minute hasn''t it?" she said shyly. "You look... good. Settled."


    Rachel tilted her head, studying her. "I could say the same about you. What are you doing now? How''s your father?"


    Lily nodded anxiously, stepping closer. "My father traveled. He left me in the hands of a friend... at least. I work as one of the many assistants to Archibald Mooney. And his son, Tyler. The change has been demanding, but..." She trailed off, her gaze flickering to the side. "It gives me something to do."


    Rachel looked away, her own memories stirring. She knew that things surely hadn''t been easy for Lily, even though she might have brought some of it on herself.


    But Rachel wondered, if only working for Gareth Smithers had left her so imprisoned and unable to do anything, how would it be being a daughter to him?


    Rachel realized that she had never thought of it that way.


    Yet, at the same time, she''d seen what Lily did to Darren, how it hardened him. Even though Lily had been caught in the same storm, it was still her doing.


    "I''m happy you''re doing fine, Lily."


    Lily smiled. "I''m happy you are too."


    They both stared at each other for a moment before the attendant returned, a plastic-wrapped suit draped carefully over his arm. "Miss Smithers, your order. Midnight charcoal, for Mr. Tyler Mooney."


    Lily''s expression shifted back to professionalism as she took the suit, her fingers brushing the fabric lightly. "Thank you." She looked at Rachel. "It''s for a seminar this evening. Tyler''s presenting."


    Rachel raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. "For Tyler, huh? That''s unfortunate."


    Lily''s smile warmed, just a fraction. "I know, but he''s not as bad as he seems. We were in college together, you know. He''s... manageable."


    The attendant returned again, this time with a second suit, its silver-gray fabric catching the light like liquid steel. "Miss Teschmacher, the Steele order. The Kiton, as requested."


    Rachel stepped forward to accept it, the weight of the suit grounding her. She glanced at Lily, who was watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression.


    As Rachel draped the suit over her arm, Lily leaned in slightly, her nostrils flaring as she caught a faint, familiar scent clinging to the fabric¡ª it smelled like Creed Aventus.


    She remembered that Darren had also had a thing for cologne and perfumes. Even when he didn''t have money to buy any.


    Her lips parted, and for a fleeting moment, her eyes softened with something like longing.


    "It''s for Darren?" Lily asked gently.


    "Yeah."


    "Oh." Her gaze lowered. "How''s he doing?"


    Rachel thought about it. "The stress of a young CEO is getting to him but he''s fine."


    Lily then turned to leave. "Okay then. Goodbye, Rachel. Please wish him luck for me. For the meeting."


    Rachel''s brow furrowed, her grip tightening on the suit. "You know he has a meetup?"


    Lily hesitated, her gaze flickering with something like surprise. "Oh yes? Mr. Mooney invited him. Private supper tonight. To discuss... business."


    "Mr. Mooney as in Archibald? Not Tyler?"


    "Yes." Lily nodded enthusiastically.


    Rachel''s lips parted, a jolt of realization hitting her. "You''re sure?"


    "Of course. I arranged the correspondence myself."


    With that, she continued towards the glass door, her heels clicking. The chime rang out as she stepped into the sunlight, leaving Rachel standing alone, the suit heavy in her arms.


    Her mind raced. A meeting with Archibald Mooney? So that was why he seemed so worked off after the summit.


    Not too far from there, Tyler Mooney reclined in his executive chair, the sleek leather creaking faintly as he propped his polished loafers on the edge of his obsidian desk.


    He was in his new office, one that he was starting to greatly enjoy. A crystal ashtray held an unlit cigar, its rich, earthy scent curling through the air like a whispered threat.


    Across from Tyler sat Amir Singh and Jaxon Daniels, their tailored suits crisp but their postures rigid. Amir, with his sharp jaw and meticulous demeanor, tapped a pen against his knee. Jaxon, broader and more relaxed, leaned back in his chair, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.


    Between them, on the desk, lay a single contract, its pages crisp and untouched. A gold-plated pen gleamed beside it, catching the light like a blade.


    The coordinator of the Expansion Event was waiting.


    Tyler grinned "So, this is it, gentlemen. Trendteller''s big moment. The expansion seminar." He leaned forward, his voice dripping with mock reverence. "Darren Steele''s golden ticket to the big leagues."


    Jaxon let out his own grin. "They''ve filed the application. Every startup mentor in the city''s watching. The press, too. If it clears, their valuation could double overnight. New investors, new markets."


    Amir adjusted his glasses. "It''s almost worrying how much momentum they''ve got. Digital licenses, blockchain patents, that AI they''re touting. It''s a tight package."


    Tyler let out a sharp laugh, the sound echoing off the glass walls. "Tight? Sure. But not bulletproof." He swung his legs off the desk, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. "Steele thinks he''s untouchable because he''s got a few crypto coins and a fancy algorithm. But he''s playing checkers. We''re playing chess."


    He tapped the contract with a manicured finger. "And we''ve got a new piece on the board. Richard Morrison."


    Amir shook his head. "Still can''t believe he''s in."


    "Oh, he''s in," Tyler said, his grin widening. "Media, biotech, private security¡ª he''s got his fingers in every pie that matters. And he''s backing us to make sure Steele crashes and burns."


    Jaxon leaned forward, his voice low. "So we block the application? Delay the clearance?"


    Tyler''s eyes gleamed. "Delay? No, no. We don''t delay. We destroy. Phantom compliance checks to tie them up in red tape. Push the application past the deadline. Leak a few whispers to the press about ''ethical concerns'' with their AI. Get the regulators sniffing around. And when Steele inevitably loses his cool..." He paused, savoring the moment. "We paint him as unhinged. Unprofessional. Done."


    Amir smirked, a rare crack in his stoic facade. "That''s cold."


    Tyler chuckled, leaning back and crossing his fingers. "Oh oh, my friend, Amir. That''s only the beginning of Darren''s downfall."

 Chapter 205 205: Harper Bell [R18]

    The office door swung open with a groan and Darren strode in, face squeezed and annoyed, thoughts spiraling.


    The room was well arranged as he expected: mahogany desk gleaming like polished bone, leather chairs squat and bloated as if stuffed with the carcasses of lesser men, and his carpet was so plush it seemed to suck at the soles of his polished loafers.


    He smelled coffee and saw the cup on his desk, right beside his computer. Darren walked up to it, picked it up and took two big gulps of its content.


    Harper Bell stood near the desk, a microfiber cloth in one hand, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail that grazed the collar of her fitted black blouse.


    Since Darren entered, her gaze had not left him. Her green eyes were soft as they searched his face, as if waiting for a crack in his armor. To show mercy.


    "The office is done, sir," she said, her voice low and careful, threaded with a warmth she couldn''t quite suppress. "Everything''s in order. Just the way you like it."


    Darren didn''t respond immediately. He crossed the room in long, restless strides, stopping at the window. His reflection stared back, but Darren pretended not to see it. As though he was afraid of his own face.


    He pressed a hand against the cool glass, his mind racing toward the evening''s meeting with Archibald Mooney.


    ''Fuck!'' he thought. ''I can''t stop thinking about that.''


    Darren knew Mr. Mooney was completely different from his rivals so far. He was the head. The Lion.


    Everyone knew that Archibald was a chessmaster, his motives shrouded in layers of charm and calculation. So what exactly was this invitation about?


    Darren could think of many things but he couldn''t be certain. What did he want? A partnership? A power play? Darren''s fingers twitched, betraying the anxiety gnawing at him.


    Harper saw his expression and walked close to him. Her blouse, a flimsy sheath of white silk, clung to her like a lover''s desperate embrace, outlining the sharp peaks of her collarbone and the soft swell of her breasts, trembling with every shallow breath.


    She wasn''t used to this kind of clothing. Hell, she used to be a security. But ever since Darren caught her and gave her this atonement, she had accepted it fully. It was much better than being blacklisted.


    The skirt she wore was as tight as a tourniquet. It rode up her thighs, exposing pale flesh that shimmered like fresh snow under the fluorescent glare.


    Darren felt her coming and glanced at her direction. His eyes raked over her but he only let out a sigh and looked forward. Then, he abandoned the window, walked to his desk and tossed his briefcase onto it.


    Harper appeared behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You seem tense, sir. Maybe a massage could help."


    Darren paused, feeling her breath on his neck. "Yeah, maybe."


    He sat down and she went to work, softly squeezing his shoulders, soothing his back and chest in the process.


    It was a relieving feeling, but not long after, Darren wanted more.


    As if she could tell, Harper left his shoulders, her movements mechanical, her heels clicking on the floor like the ticking of a doomsday clock.


    Then, she presented herself before Darren, her hands clasped in front of her, trembling like leaves in a storm, her breath catching in her throat as Darren got on his feet and circled her.


    His gaze was a blade, slicing through her defenses, peeling back layers of dignity until she stood raw and exposed, a sacrificial lamb on his altar of depravity.


    "You''re so fucking good at this, Harper," he said, his voice dropping low, a growl that rumbled like thunder in his chest. "Maybe I should praise myself for being a good teacher, but you have learnt very well."


    He stopped behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, a furnace of twisted desire that scorched the air between them. His breath grazed her neck, hot and damp.


    "Thank you, sir," she whispered, her soft voice even tinier from anxiety.


    "Bend over," he commanded. She complied, leaning forward, her palms pressing against the desk''s cold surface, the wood biting into her skin like the teeth of a trap.


    Her skirt rode higher, exposing the backs of her thighs, pale and vulnerable, a canvas for his filthy intentions.


    Darren''s hand grazed her hip, his fingers rough as burlap, tracing the curve of her body with a possessiveness that made her stomach churn like a cesspool.


    Harper was already squirming. She couldn''t control himself anytime he touched her, no matter how little. It was like her entire body was sensitive and only his fingers held the switch.


    His touch was a violation, a brand seared into her flesh, marking her as his in this hellish ritual they''d played out too many times before. Everything in the room watched.


    "You like this, don''t you?" he said, his voice a taunting lilt, his fingers tightening, digging into her like claws into soft earth. "You always do."


    "Yes, sir," she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm raging in her chest, her heart pounding like a war drum. "I love it when you touch me." She stared at the desk, at the grain of the wood swirling like the chaos in her mind.


    Darren removed her skirt and slowly stuck a finger inside her. She moaned.


    "Tell me you want it," he said.


    "I want it, sir," she said. "Please. Give it to me."


    He thrusted his fingers in and out of her. Over and over, out of nowhere, so fast that she began to vibrate, and was already on the verge of a very... very... very... strong orga...


    Darren pulled his fingers away.


    "No! Nghh¡ª sir!"


    Darren''s chuckle was sinister, and of course it was. What he just did to that needy woman was an unforgivable act.


    "You''re becoming quite spoiled, aren''t you, Harper?"


    She turned and looked at him, her eyes low and sad, begging him. "No. I was just... It''s just that I was close."


    "Ah. So you fully intended on coming before me?"


    Harper shook her head. "No. No. I only... c¡ª cum when you tell me too, sir."


    Darren gave her an affirmative yet steel gaze. "Get on your knees."


    Like a slave, she obeyed, lowering herself from his table and falling to her knees.


    Darren looked down at her. "You know what to do, Harper," he said, his voice a low growl.


    "Yes... I do." She nodded, her cheeks flushing with anticipation. Then, staring at his crotch area through his expensive black trousers, she reached out, her small hands unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.


    Finally, with a bite of her lips, she pulled down his boxers.


    Darren''s cock sprang free, already hard and ready. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, as though she was thanking him for giving her such a beautiful cock.


    Which, in fact, she was.


    Then, with saliva falling from her lips, she took him into her mouth.


    Harper started slow, her lips wrapping around his shaft, her tongue swirling around the head.


    Darren groaned, his hands fisting in her hair. "That''s it, Harper," he encouraged. "Take it all."


    She obeyed, relaxing her throat as he slid deeper, until his cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, but Darren didn''t stop.


    Feeling her throat gave him a rush of momentum, and so he held her head in place and started thrusting his hips forward, fucking her throat.


    Gwap! Gwap! Slurp! Swurp!!


    Spit flew off the sides of her mouth as his cock plunged deeper into her.


    Harper moaned around his cock, her nipples hardening as he used her. She reached up, her fingers tweaking her nipples through her blouse. Darren noticed, his gaze flicking down to her chest.


    "Take your shirt off," he commanded. She complied, unbuttoning her blouse and slipping it off, revealing her lace bra. Darren''s eyes darkened with lust as he watched her play with her nipples.


    He continued, his movements brutal, mechanical, a machine of flesh and greed grinding her down.


    The more his cock thrusted into her, the more Harper began to lose herself. The room spun, a kaleidoscope of shadows and light, the walls pulsing like the heartbeat of some monstrous entity.


    His cock felt wonderful inside her, just like it did the very first day he had taken her. Used her.


    And every time¡ª just like right now¡ª when he pulled out of her, she suddenly felt incomplete.


    She would want him more.


    "Please! Please!" she begged. "Don''t stop! Don''t stop fucking my mouth, sir!"


    She grabbed him by his thighs and began to push her own face deeper into his cock, pressing her head in between his legs. Darren groaned like an aggravated lion, jerking his head back as he grabbed her hair, trying to pull her back.


    She was like a vacuum! Sucking everything out of him.


    When he was finally successful, she coughed harshly, then slowly lifted up her face and gave him a guilty look. Though it was endearing.


    Darren looked at her coldly for a moment, then grabbed her by the cheek. "You are becoming spoiled."


    Forcefully, he pulled her up and turned her around, pushing her against the table and forcing her to bend over. "I''m so¡ª I''m sorry! I just couldn''t help it!"


    "Spread your legs!" he ordered. Harper obeyed, moving both legs in opposite directions, inviting him in.


    Darren positioned himself at her entrance, his cock rubbing against her wet pussy. He pulled her hair until she was looking at him overhead, eyes locked together, darkened with desire.


    "Are you ready for me?" he asked her.


    ---------------------------


    Mass Release early tomorrow. 8:00Am EST

 Chapter 206: Such Madness [R18]

    His tone was laced with both dominance and a hint of vulnerability, as if he needed her affirmation as much as she needed his forgiveness.


    "Yes," she whispered with a voice far from audible yet truly certain. "I''m ready, sir. Please... put it inside of me."


    The word hung in the air for a moment, a plea for absolution, for release, for something she couldn''t quite name. Everytime Darren made use of her body, Harper found this sense of fulfillment that all her days in security never gave her.


    Over time, this had stopped being a punishment. In fact, it stopped the very same day the punishment began.


    Or maybe, Harper just loved to be punished. But only by him.


    Darren growled low in his throat, the sound primal and hungry. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand tangling in her hair as he let it fall back down before pulling it back up again.


    She moaned softly as her head raised back slightly, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. "You''re going to take everything I give you, aren''t you?"


    "Yes," she repeated, her voice steadier now, though her eyes quivered on his masculine gaze and her body trembled with anticipation. "Anything, sir. Please do whatever you want."


    Even though he didn''t need her permission, Darren responded instantly, and his response was strong and brutal.


    Setting his legs, he thrust forward. And with that powerful motion, his cock sunk deep into her wet heat, filling her completely. Harper gasped, her nails digging into the wood of the table as she adjusted to his size, her body stretching to accommodate him.


    "That''s it," he growled, his hips snapping forward in a rhythm that was both punishing and exhilarating. "Take it, Harper. Don''t disappoint me now. Take all of it. All of me."


    Harper whimpered. "Yes. Yes I''ll take it. I''ll take everything."


    The desk creaked under their weight as Darren began to move. He thrusted into her carefully at first, like he was being lenient with her. But when his patience weighed out, his strokes became more deliberate and relentless.


    Harper moaned, her head falling forward as she surrendered to the sensations flooding her senses.


    She fell forward on the desk while Darren held on to her waist, pounding into her, causing ripples through the skin of her ass.


    "Ugh! Ugh! Ngh! Ughh!" she fought against her own moans. "You''re so big inside me, sir!"


    The rough fabric of the desk tingled her nipples through her blouse, while the cool air splashed on her exposed skin¡ª her butt cheeks, her upper thighs, her legs.


    Darren only kept fucking her harder and harder, and she held on to edges of the table, fighting against his weight.


    The relentless pressure of his cock, his balls slapping on her clit, his fingers pressed tight on her waist¡ª it was all too much, and yet it wasn''t enough.


    She wanted more. Needed more.


    "Harder," she panted, her voice desperate. "Please, sir. Harder."


    Darren grunted. "Now you make demands."


    "Ugh! No, sir! I''m sorryyyyy."


    "Don''t worry. I''ll be happy to give you what you want."


    "Eh?" She twisted her neck to look at him. "Wait¡ª !"


    But Darren wasn''t waiting. His grip on her hips tightened, his fingers bruising as he pulled her back onto him. Then at the same time, he collided his thrust into her.


    Plap!


    The sound echoed in the office, the audience of computers, shelves and couches watching in sheer disbelief.


    Then, he continued; pounding into her harder and faster, pulling her to him as he slammed into her.


    With each thrust, his cock slammed into her pussy with a force that bordered on brutality. Harper cried out, the sound muffled by her arm as she pressed her face into the desk, her body arching with each impact.


    Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her legs curved by the knees towards each other, weakened by the pleasure of Darren''s brute.


    The room was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling¡ª the slap of skin against skin, their ragged breaths, the wetness of their bodies joining.


    "Omigod! Omigod! Omigosshhhhh!" Harper cried out. "I can''t think! It''s so... deep... and hard inside meeee."


    Such madness. It was raw, primal, and utterly consuming.


    Darren''s other hand slid down her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her thigh before slipping between her legs to find her clit, already swollen and throbbing.


    He rubbed her roughly, his touch demanding as he sought to push her over the edge.


    "No." she begged. "You''re so cruel, sir."


    "Aren''t you going to thank me?" Darren asked her.


    "Yes!" she stuck her tongue out, causing her words to come out muffled and debauched. "Thank you, sir! But if you continue like this... I''m going to coooommme!"


    Darren didn''t stop. "You want to come?"


    "I do... But I can''t!"


    "And why''s that?"


    "Cause I need your permission to cum, Mr. Steele! Please sir! Please let me cum? Please. I can''t hold it anymore."


    "Are you sure? I think you can hold it for a bit longer."


    She shook her head like a pretty pet. "Nooo, I can''t. I don''t want to come without your permission. Please, please, let me come!"


    Darren grabbed her hair and pulled her up to him, then whispered in her. "Come for me, Harper," he commanded, his voice hoarse with need. "Come on my cock and fingers. Let me feel you fall apart."


    "Ugh!" It arrived at that exact moment. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, tearing a cry from her throat as her body convulsed around him.


    Her walls clenched, milking him, and Darren groaned, his own release building to an unbearable crescendo.


    "Thank you, sir. Thank you for letting me come."


    Hearing that almost forced the cum right out of Darren''s pulsing cock.


    "Fuck," he cursed, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own orgasm. "Harper, you feel so good. So fucking good."


    He fucked her harder and harder, and harder, while she moaned with every pound. The sound of her voice was a catalyst of its own, and his orgasm arrived quicker than he thought, impossible to hold back.


    With a groan, his cock pulsed hard as he spilled deep inside her, his seed filling her in a way that felt almost symbolic.


    Harper shuddered, her body still trembling as he held her in place, his breath coming in ragged gasps against her neck. For a long moment, they stayed like that, connected, their hearts pounding in unison.


    Finally, Darren pulled out, his softening cock slipping from her with a wet pussy. He stepped back, his eyes raking over her flushed, disheveled form with a mixture of satisfaction and something softer, something that looked almost like tenderness.


    Harper laid there on the desk for a while, trying her very best to catch her breath. After minutes of silence, she slowly got up, her hands picking up her skirt as she turned to face him, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses.


    Darren remained on the couch that he had collapsed on. "Clean yourself up," he said, his voice gentle now, though the underlying steel was still there. "I''ll let you know when next I need you."


    Harper nodded. "Yes sir."

 Chapter 207: Bidding Gate

    Digital assets were meeting the highest market growth around the early 2010''s, which was why the idea of expansion was one that was very important for a digital company.


    Expanding allowed digital assets to grow their products to channels outside Los Alverez, within Calivernia, outside the state and the country as a whole.


    However, this was not an easy task for companies seeking this expansion. Because of his political power in the business of the city and the state as a whole, if anyone wanted to expand after taking advantage of the business structures set up by him, they would need to go through Archibald Mooney.


    This was why the Moon Digital Bidding Gate was set up. It wasn''t just an event¡ª it was the crucible where fortunes were forged or shattered.


    Conceived over a decade ago as a joint venture between Moon Enterprises and the Department of State Commerce, the Bidding Gate had cemented itself as the sole pathway for companies seeking to expand into and from Calivernia''s vast digital infrastructure.


    Whether it was logistics tech streamlining port operations, AI optimizing public utilities, or financial platforms like Trendteller revolutionizing wealth management, any business aiming to tap into state-backed contracts, public-private partnerships, or international market access had to pass through this gauntlet.


    Undeniably, Archibald Mooney''s power in this state was more and more glaring for anyone not to see. The event was held annually in just four cities across the state, and this year''s event in Los Alverez was a glittering arena of ambition.


    Everyone knew what was at stake here. Validation meant not just growth but an explosion into the stratosphere of influence.


    The Gate''s power lay in its exclusivity. Approval didn''t merely unlock contracts; it was a golden ticket to investor confidence, bank loans, and elite partnerships.


    If someone got the nod from the Bidding Gate, that alone could propel their startup from obscurity to a household name overnight.


    Yet, CEOs and asset owners were all wary of it because of how centralized it was, putting the fate of their businesses in the hands of one man who could do whatever he wished with it.


    That was the catch. Moon Enterprises itself. As the founding partner and sole overseer, they controlled every facet¡ª application timing, compliance standards, and entry prioritization.


    On paper, it was a neutral platform, a meritocracy of innovation. But everyone knew that wasn''t the case in reality. Calivernia''s elite also knew better.


    Moon Enterprises, under the iron grip of the Mooney family, wielded the Gate like a scepter, bending the rules to favor allies and bury threats.


    For Darren and his team at Steele Investments, this wasn''t just a hurdle¡ª it was a fortress they couldn''t bypass, no matter how strong Trendteller''s tech was.


    Moon''s influence ran too deep, their tentacles wrapped around the state''s economic arteries.


    The event, as usual, was held inside the Grand State Auditorium.


    Here, the air crackled with chilled anticipation. It was a dome-like building, smaller than the Steele Complex with prism designs across the polished marble floor.


    Rows of entrepreneurs, investors, and state officials filled the plush seats, their murmured conversations a low hum beneath the auditorium''s state-of-the-art ventilation system.


    Since Darren was too busy to attend this himself, Lila Torres had come, representing her own product.


    Money looked good on her now that she had it. Standing near the front, she was bedecked in a slate-blue blazer crisp against her olive skin, her curls pulled into a tight bun and her neck and fingers were glistening with golden adornments.


    Her sharp eyes scanned the schedule televised on a massive TV board. It was the Bidding Registry in neat, alphabetical rows.


    She wasn''t alone. Darren had sent Sandy to go with her. As his Head of Finance, it was fitting that she was here. She wore a black blazer over a milk top and pink pencil skirt. Her blonde hair flowed down behind her, but her jaw ticked, a telltale sign of her simmering frustration.


    "There," Lila said, pointing to their entry. It showed: Trendteller, and then their status. But surprisingly, the status said: "Pending Review."


    Lila''s brow furrowed, a crease forming as she checked the list, seeing other names below them that had already been approved. "This doesn''t make sense. We applied weeks ago and others below us have been approved. I even triple-checked the build documents, licensing models, performance stats. Everything was airtight."


    Sandy crossed her arms, her cool blue eyes narrowing. "It has nothing to do with the license models of the stats. If it did then our application would have been simply rejected. Someone doesn''t want to reject it because we could force them to court to demand reasons. Pending is the only way to hold us back. Seems intentional."


    Her voice was low and a bit angry. Sandy was used to navigating corporate battlefields, and it was difficult to sniff the foul play here immediately. She pulled out her phone, her fingers hovering over Rachel''s contact. "I''m calling her. We need answers."


    Before she could dial, the auditorium''s lights dimmed, casting a dramatic hush over the crowd. The massive screens flanking the stage flared to life, the crescent logo of Moon Enterprises swirling into view like a predator circling its prey.


    Then a polished voice boomed through the speakers: "Please welcome the Director of Strategic Expansion for Moon Enterprises, Mr. Tyler Mooney."


    Sandy''s lips pressed into a thin line. "Of course," she muttered, her tone dripping with bitter recognition. "It all makes sense now."


    Lila''s head snapped toward the stage. "Him? Does he have issues with Darren?"


    Sandy narrowed her eyes. "Doesn''t everyone?"


    Tyler Mooney sauntered through the side doors, his silver-blue suit catching the spotlight. His hair was combed brilliantly, and there was a charming, self-assured smirk on his face.


    He moved with the swagger of inherited power, every gesture calculated to remind the room who held the reins. As he reached the podium, he waved once, a king acknowledging his court. Scattered applause rippled through the crowd, though many sat stone-faced, their silence louder than the claps.


    Tyler tapped the microphone, then he spoke; "Ladies and gentlemen, entrepreneurs, innovators¡ª welcome to the future," he began. "A future curated by excellence, integrity, and, above all..." His eyes flicked to the television board, where Trendteller''s status still mocked them. "...standards."


    Lila''s breath caught, her nails digging into her palms. "Well he''s a bastard," she hissed under her breath.


    Sandy didn''t flinch, her gaze locked on Tyler like a sniper zeroing in. "He''s really going to delay us," she said, her tone flat but certain. "He''s going to do it as long as possible too. But he can''t delay us forever which means he''s planning something else."


    "Then we push harder," Lila shot back. "I didn''t build Trendteller to get sidelined by some nepo baby in a $10,000 suit."


    On stage, Tyler''s voice rolled on, oblivious to their fury. "This year, we''re introducing a new compliance filter to elevate expectations. Some of you may notice a delay in your status¡ª nothing personal, just part of our refinement process."


    The screen flickered, and Lila''s heart sank as the text shifted: Trendteller¡ª Status: Reassessment Under Review.


    "This son of a bitch! He knows that leaving it delayed will eventually invite quests, but when he reassesses it after delays, it just counts like a new assessment! He could hold us back forever like this!"


    Sandy''s phone was already out again, her fingers flying across the screen as she called Rachel, but the secretary''s number was reachable.


    Rachel wasn''t picking.

 Chapter 208: Tyler the Cub

    "She''s not picking," Sandy said, pushing her hair aside with a whip of her head as she sunk her phone back in her pocket.


    "What about Darren?" Lila asked.


    Sandy gave her a look.


    "What?"


    "We don''t just call Darren in stuff like this. He''s busy and he''s already not himself. We report it later, not talk to him over the phone."


    "Oh," Lila frowned. "Noted. But we still have to do something. My product has been selling wonderfully, if I don''t expand it might start to dwindle."


    "No it will," Sandy sighed. "This is important for you and for us."


    They both glanced at the stage where Tyler still stood on.


    He spread his arms, his voice rising with evangelical fervor. "We''re not just offering grants or certifications. We''re building pathways ¡ªlegal infrastructure, corporate compliance, government endorsements, and, most importantly, visibility. Moon Enterprises has propelled over three hundred digital ventures to statewide success, and this year, we''re opening doors wider than ever. Synergy, ladies and gentlemen, is the future."


    He punctuated the last word with a wink, aimed at a cluster of investors in the front row. A few chuckled; others clapped with renewed vigor.


    "Of course he winked," Lila whispered, her tone dripping with disdain. "He probably thinks he''s auditioning for a cologne ad. I barely know this guy and he already pisses me off"


    Sandy shared the feeling. "You have no idea. Surprised you don''t know him, considering the many posts about him on social media ¡ªhim stumbling out of Club Vesper at 3 a.m., arm around some woman, bottle of champagne in hand."


    Lila smirked. "That''s the guy? The cub is what they used to call him. Wait? Is it because Archibald Mooney is called the Lion?"


    "That must be it."


    "Hah! I remember now. He''s a midlife crisis, minus the midlife. Throwing parties at his penthouse, flashing his daddy''s money, and now playing gatekeeper to our future? It''s insulting."


    Sandy nodded, her voice hardening. "Still, he''s not just an asshole; he''s a calculated one. Those delays on our application? That''s him flexing. He must have the committee and the event''s coordinator in his pocket. We can''t underestimate him."


    The applause faded as Tyler stepped down from the stage, his grin unshaken as he moved toward the investor booths at the hall''s edge. He clapped shoulders, flashed teeth, and tossed casual quips, his charm a polished weapon. The crowd parted for him, drawn to his orbit like moths to a flame.


    Sandy straightened, her portfolio tucked under her arm. "Come. Let''s get answers from him."


    "Really?"


    "Yes. Let''s confront him and get an idea of what he might want before we report to Darren."


    "Okay..."


    They moved through the crowd with purpose, passing by Investors'' booths and rich people in suits.


    Once they got close to him, Tyler''s eyes flicked up and his grin sharpened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his gaze.


    "Well, well," Tyler drawled, straightening slightly but keeping his casual lean. "Miss Torres and Miss Meyers. A digital delight, gracing us with your presence."


    Sandy didn''t bother with pleasantries. "Our application''s listed as ''Under Review.'' Care to explain why?"


    Tyler''s smile didn''t falter, but he raised a hand to his chest in mock surprise. "Under review? Oh, ladies, that''s just the process. The committee handles all that nitty-gritty. I''m just the guy who gives the shiny speeches." He gestured vaguely toward the stage.


    Lila stepped forward. "Your name''s on the committee chair list, Tyler. Don''t play coy."


    He eyed her primally then chuckled. "I never expected you to look so beautiful, Miss Torres."


    Lila frowned, jerking backwards.


    "It''s all technicalities, I assure you. We''re thorough at Moon Enterprises. Gotta make sure every product meets state regulations, you know? Compliance is king. Wouldn''t want any... experimental algorithms slipping through the cracks, would we?" His eyes flicked between them, but stayed longer on Lila. "You are a beautiful delight."


    At first, she had no rebuttal. But then Lila gathered herself. "I don''t get swayed so easily, daddy''s boy. Especially not with words."


    He locked his lips. "We''ll see."


    "Trendteller''s platform is operational in three sectors," Sandy chimed in. "Media, finance, and logistics. It''s been stress-tested, audited, and certified. There''s no reason for a delay."


    Tyler tilted his head. "No reason? Come now, Sandy. A platform like yours ¡ªdisruptive, ambitious¡ª needs extra scrutiny. It''s not personal. Just diligence." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Besides, Darren Steele''s a big boy. He can handle a little waiting, can''t he?"


    Lila''s eyes flashed, and she took a step again, closing the distance. "If you''re trying to block us, Tyler, do it openly. Don''t hide behind bureaucratic games. We''re not here for your amusement."


    For a moment, Tyler''s facade slipped, his grin tightening into something colder, more calculating. Then he laughed, tapping both women on the shoulders in a gesture that felt more condescending than friendly. "Block Darren Steele? That''d be crazy. The man''s a star, shining so bright." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I''d hate to be the one to cast a shadow."


    Then he turned to Lila. "I was hoping you''d take more steps closer to me. Or do you want me to be the one to close the distance, my beautiful CEO?"


    Lila chuckled. "You can. If you want your face caved in."


    "Ha ha he he ha! Oh how brutal. Hands as soft as those should never be forced into fists," he lowered his face and whispered into her ear. "I''ll be keeping an eye on you, my pretty one. In the meantime..."


    He straightened, brushing imaginary lint from his blazer. "Enjoy the summit, ladies. Lots of opportunities out there." With a final wink, he turned, sauntering toward another group of investors, leaving Lila and Sandy rooted in place, their fury a tangible heat.


    Sandy''s hands balled into fists, her voice low and venomous. "This asshole hasn''t changed at all. He''s almost like Ryan, but dumber. Is he trying to declare a war with us? Has he forgotten what happened to the other guy who held the position he holds now?"


    Lila, a little flustered, shook her head, her eyes tracking Tyler''s retreating figure. "We weren''t able to gather any idea of why he would be doing this, were we?"


    "We were."


    "What?" Lila snapped her head at her. "But he didn''t say anything."


    "He didn''t have to. He speaks so much louder with his body language and the stupid look on his face."


    She turned around. "Now come, let''s go!"


    Lila followed her, but after taking a few steps, she glanced over her shoulder, catching the figure of Tyler Mooney one last time.

 Chapter 209: The Suit

    Oblivious to all of this, at least for now, was Darren Steele, sitting behind his mahogany desk, fingers dancing across the keyboard as the final document loaded onto the screen.


    ''Trademark Application: Steele Tech''


    It was done.


    With a final keystroke, the application was submitted. Darren leaned back in his leather chair, jaw tight.


    He was done with the formalities and tomorrow he would hand Rachel the documents to submit. This was a cornerstone in his plan to carve out a new empire under the Steele name.


    Steele Tech.


    Earlier that morning, (after Harper), he''d gathered his core team in the conference room and he delivered the news.


    "Due to an unexpected schedule tonight, I''m extending the deadline for your submissions by one day. Use it wisely."


    The reactions had been telling. Amelia''s shoulders had slumped as she exhaled a sigh of relief. Kara had leaned back in her chair, muttering something sarcastic under her breath that earned a sharp glance from Simon. Simon, for his part, had frowned, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table as he murmured about "losing rhythm."


    Darren had noted it all but said nothing. His mind was already elsewhere.


    Harper had been dismissed hours ago, sent home with instructions. Now, all that remained was the dinner with Archibald.


    A soft ping from his phone broke the silence. Darren glanced at the screen, a message from Olivia lighting up the display.


    Olivia: Are you dressed? I''m on my way.


    He checked the time, it was 4:47 PM. He grunted and then typed a quick reply.


    Darren: I am. No need to hurry.


    Olivia: You liar.


    It was a lie. His white dress shirt hung open at the collar, no tie, no jacket, his dark hair slightly tousled from hours hunched over his laptop.


    He stood and stretched his back. ''Where is Rachel with my suit?"


    A sharp knock sounded at the door.


    Darren glanced at it. "Come in," he said.


    The door opened slowly, and Rachel Teschmacher stepped inside.


    She appeared nervous as she walked, her form-fitting blazer hugging her frame over a soft black turtleneck, her dark skirt swaying faintly.


    In her hands, she carried a black suit cover, the gold-embroidered logo of ''Zovari Fifth Ave'' glinting faintly. The strands of her hair barely covered her left eye now, and as she got closer, both eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.


    "You remembered to knock this time," Darren said dryly.


    Rachel stepped closer, laying the suit cover gently over the arm of the leather couch. "It''s a rare event, I know. Didn''t want another lecture on office etiquette."


    He chuckled hoarsely, the sound low and fleeting, as he moved toward her and the suit. Rachel almost shuddered when he got close, like the tiny space between them was always charged with electric tension.


    "It''s a beautiful suit," she whispered, gesturing to the cover.


    Darren didn''t reply immediately, his steel-blue eyes trained on her, then he looked at the suit. "It is."


    Rachel glanced around the office, moving to every corner in a split of a second. Satisfied, she lowered her head, squeezing her lips.


    "Harper isn''t here," she noted, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp as they returned to him.


    "You''re always looking for her," Darren remarked, closing the distance. "What is it, Rachel? Do you want to hit her? Are you jealous?"


    Rachel didn''t flinch, her chin lifting slightly as she met his gaze head-on. "No, I''m not."


    His lips shaped to a pout, head nodding. "Seems like you are."


    She didn''t reply to that, and so the silence stretched taut, a coiled wire ready to snap.


    Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, her eyes held his, unflinching, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface.


    Darren broke the tension first, glancing at the suit cover. "Well, it''s not going to wear itself."


    "Huh?" Rachel hesitated for a fraction of a second. She glanced down at the suit cover, then at him. Darren shrugged.


    With only a moment''s hesitation, she reached for the first button of his open shirt, her fingers brushing the fabric as she unfastened it.


    Her touch was careful, but the tension in the air made her fingers fidget as she worked silently, undoing each button. Darren stood still, his breath steady, his eyes never leaving her face.


    She slid the shirt from his shoulders, her fingertips grazing the bare skin of his collarbone as she reached for the crisp white dress shirt from the suit cover.


    Deep breathing. From both of them. Everything was silent except for that.


    Then, she stood in front of him, and unbuckled his belt. His pants dropped, and as they remained locked to each other''s eyes, Darren lifted his feet off them.


    Rachel finally broke the gaze lock and unzipped...


    ... the suit cover. She pulled out the tuxedo, then the pants. After wearing him his pants, which she had to squat before him to do, she buckled his belt. Then, out of the tux, she took out the shirt.


    Darren stretched his hands at both sides for her to wear it to him. She obeyed.


    The fabric was cool against his skin as she guided his arms into the sleeves, her movements slow, almost reverent.


    She buttoned it up, her fingers lingering at each clasp, her breath shallow as she worked. When she reached for the tux, she draped it carefully over his shoulders, smoothing the lapels with both hands, her touch lingering at his collar.


    She fixed his tie, and tapped him on his chest.


    "Looks perfect," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.


    But her hands rested on his chest for a moment longer, and suddenly, right then, she could feel his heartbeat thumping inside him.


    Darren let her listen to it.


    Then, slowly, she looked up at him, and he was already looking at her.


    Her toes lifted her, getting her face closer to his. Her lips grazed his, tentative at first, testing.


    Then, Darren''s hand found her waist, pulling her closer, his other hand sliding to the back of her neck.


    Finally, once again, after so long, their mouths met, deeper this time, a fierce and quiet intensity that burned away the weeks of unspoken tension between them. The kiss was raw, aching, a collision of restraint and release, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the office.

 Chapter 210: Let Go With Me [R18]

    Rachel''s hands trembled slightly as she reached out, her fingers brushing the lapel of his pristine tuxedo. "Darren," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire, "I''ve missed this... Wanted it for so long."


    Her words were a spark, igniting the flame that had smoldered between them for months. Darren''s resolve crumbled, and he pulled her closer, his hands sliding down her waist, molding her body against his.


    The kiss only got stronger, harsher, edging on a desire that almost turned primal, their lips moving in sync, hungry and desperate, as if they were trying to consume each other.


    He tasted her¡ª sweet and urgent ¡ªher lips parting to grant him access. Their tongues entwined like they were used to each other''s taste, yet it felt new and exhilarating in this moment.


    Darren''s hands moved of their own accord, sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her tighter against him. He could feel her curves, the softness of her body pressing against his hardness, and a groan escaped his throat, low and primal.


    Rachel broke the kiss, her forehead resting against his, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Gosh, she loved the taste of his lips.


    "Are you going to take me now?" she asked him, her eyes gazing dreamingly at him, burning with need.


    Darren looked at her for a moment, capturing that look of need in her eyes and instantly flicked the switch inside him. He backed her toward the desk, his hands never leaving her body, his touch possessive and reverent.


    Rachel lay on the desk. It was cold and hard against her back, but she barely noticed, her focus entirely on the man before her. Darren''s eyes darkened with desire as his gaze roamed over her face, her neck, her chest, as if memorizing every detail.


    With a swift motion, he pulled her turtleneck shirt over her breasts, revealing the lace bra beneath. Her breasts were full and inviting, her nipples already tight with anticipation.


    Darren''s breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing the swell of her breast, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.


    "Mmmm!" Rachel squirmed as she arched her back, tangling her fingers in his hair, urging him closer.


    "I love doing this to you," he murmured against her skin, his words sending shivers down her spine. His hands moved to her skirt, sliding it down her legs until it pooled at her feet.


    But he did not hesitate, he stuck his fingers into her immediately after and began to thrust fast.


    "Oh, fucccckkk!" Rachel snapped her head backwards. It felt so good! His strong hard fingers deep in her pussy, taking her wetness and thrusting deeper. Harder.


    But she could not allow herself to lose. She lifted herself forward and hands began to lose the shirt that she had just worn him.


    When the buttons were all gone, she lifted his singlet and it revealed his chest: The broadness of it, the bulging muscles, this beautiful canvas she longed to explore.


    She ran her fingers over his pecs, his abs, her touch light and teasing. Darren''s eyes closed briefly, a shudder running through him at her touch.


    The sensation weakened Darren''s fingers inside of her, and so Rachel took the opportunity.


    Her hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it easily. His pants followed, sliding down his legs as he kicked them aside. He stood before her in nothing but his boxers, his erection straining against the fabric, testifying to his desire.


    Rachel''s lips curved into a hungry, yet relieved smile as she stepped closer, her hands sliding around his waist, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers.


    "This is what you would like me to do, yes?" she asked, her eyes gazing up at him. "Would it please you if I held your cock?"


    Darren groaned. "Yes. Fuck yes, it would, Rachel."


    Licking her lips, she pulled down his boxers as she knelt before him, her hands gripping his thighs, her gaze locked on his throbbing cock.


    "I''ve missed how this felt..." she let out a satisfied sigh as she wrapped her arms around it, "...in my palm."


    Darren groaned. She stroked him gently, her touch feather-light, her thumb brushing the tip where a drop of pre-cum glistened. Darren''s head fell back, a groan escaping his lips as he surrendered to her touch.


    "Rachel," he warned, his voice hoarse, "if you keep that up, I won''t last."


    She smiled, her lips brushing his length as she spoke. "Don''t you want to release?" she murmured, her breath ghosting over his skin. "Let go with me."


    Her words were his undoing. She took him in her mouth, her lips wrapping around him, her tongue swirling in a rhythm that was both torturous and divine.


    Darren''s hands tangled in her hair, his hips bucking slightly as he fought for control. She sucked him deep, her throat tightening around him, her hum of pleasure vibrating through him.


    "Fuck, Rachel," he groaned, his voice raw with need. "You''re going to make me¡ª"


    Splash!


    "Mmm!" her eyes shot open as he filled her mouth, causing her to shock as the content slipped into her throat.


    Then, he pulled himself out, chest heaving.


    Rachel swallowed, catching her own breath. Darren only rested for a moment before he pulled her to her feet, and pressed her against the desk, her legs wrapping around his waist.


    "Already?" she asked, excited.


    "It''s been too long," Darren muttered. "I''m not wasting another second when it comes to you."


    Her core was wet and aching, her need for him overwhelming. She reached between them, guiding his cock to her entrance, her breath catching as he pressed inside her.


    "Ughhhh!" a heavy moan escaped her.


    Fuck. Darren filled her completely, his thickness stretching her, his heat enveloping her skin. He stilled, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged as he savored the sensation of being inside her.


    "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So good, Rachel."


    She smiled weakly, hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him to move. "Darren," she pleaded, her voice desperate. "Please."


    He didn''t need to be told twice. He began to thrust, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through her.


    Rachel''s head fell back, her moans filling the room as he set a relentless pace. His hands gripped her hips, his movements powerful and primal, his cock sliding in and out of her with a wet, rhythmic slap.


    Plap! Plap! Plap!!


    "Oh! Ughh! It''s so hard!" Rachel moaned, her voice weak.


    "Look at me," he commanded, his own voice rough with desire.


    She obeyed promptly, her gaze locked on his as he moved inside her. The connection was electric, their emotions laid bare in that moment. Darren''s thrusts deepened, his hips snapping against hers, his cock pounding into her with a force that bordered on desperation.


    "I''ve wanted you for so long," he growled, his voice hoarse. "Tell me you feel it too."


    Rachel''s lips curved into a breathless smile. "I feel it," she gasped, her voice trembling. "I feel everything."


    Her words sent him over the edge. Darren''s movements became frantic, his control slipping as he chased his release. Rachel''s body tightened around him, her walls clenching as her orgasm built, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to consume her.


    Plap!Plap!Plap! Plap!Plap!Plap!!


    He pounded faster, grabbing one of her breasts and squeezing hard as he felt the sensation building in his balls.


    "Come with me," he demanded, his voice a raw whisper.


    Rachel''s eyes closed, her mouth falling open in a silent cry as she shattered around him. "Yes! Yes! Darren, I''m coming! I''ll come! I''m going to c¡ª co¡ª Oh fuck! Yessss!"


    Her body trembled, her muscles contracting in waves of ecstasy as she rode out her orgasm. Darren followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself deep inside her ¡ª despite himself.


    He let out a thunderous groan of release as he collapsed on top of her. While she shook on the table like a fish on dry land.


    For a moment, they remained still, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling as they savored the aftermath. Darren''s hands slid down to her back, holding her close and then... he planted a kiss on her shoulder.

 Chapter 211: To the Castle!

    An hour later, the elevator hummed softly as it descended through the gleaming heart of the Steele Complex.


    Inside, Darren stood with a quiet, commanding presence, hands clasped in front of him, steel-blue eyes fixed on his own reflection. It was like he hadn''t just engaged in a madness of lustful romance a mere hour ago.


    Thankfully, the suit was not stained. It had been slightly rumpled from their clash of desire but Rachel gave it a quick ironing and it was suitable once again.


    On his body, it was grand, like it was made just for him. The suit was a Brioni Vanquish II, crafted from the finest Super 150s wool. The single-breasted jacket featured peak lapels, hand-stitched with surgical precision, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering to a fitted waist.


    Beneath it, a Tom Ford dress shirt, pristine white, with its French cuffs secured by platinum cufflinks engraved with the Steele crest. A black silk Zegna tie, knotted in a perfect double Windsor, sat snug against his throat.


    A Patek Philippe 5970P chronograph hung on his wrist and on his feet were John Lobb William loafers, hand-polished to a mirror finish, gleamed like obsidian.


    Rachel was beside him, adjusting her skirt while finding it difficult to hide her happy smile.


    Of course she was happy. After months of being cold to her, she had finally broken through to Darren, and he''d taken her like he once used to.


    It had been wonderful.


    She bit her lip just thinking about it, even accommodating the fleeting thought of doing it again in this elevator.


    She took a peek at him, and he instantly caught it, causing her to look away, smiling nervously.


    The doors slid open, revealing the grand lobby of the Steele Complex, its marble floors gleaming under the chandelier''s golden light.


    They stepped through it and out of the doors, meeting the cool evening breeze in Mauravard Street once they got outside.


    "Are you taking your Revento?n?" Rachel asked him.


    He parted his lips to answer. Then, from the shadowed curve of the street, a sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom limousine glided into view.


    Darren paused, tilting his head.


    The elongated car, polished to a liquid sheen, shimmered under the streetlights, its chrome Spirit of Ecstasy hood ornament catching flecks of the setting sun. The vehicle purred to a stop before the Complex''s entrance, its presence as commanding as the man it had come to collect.


    A liveried driver stepped out and opened the rear door. Then, Olivia Sinclair emerged.


    Her attire caused Darren to lift both brows¡ª a reaction that Rachel caught.


    Olivia was breathtaking. Elegant through and through: the type that stopped the air in its tracks. She wore a Carolina Herrera gown from the recent 2011 collection, a floor-length, off-the-shoulder masterpiece in midnight black silk that clung to her figure impeccably before cascading into a subtle train.


    The gown''s clean lines were accentuated by a delicate row of pearls stitched along the neckline. Her emerald hair was swept into a loose chignon, with soft tendrils framing her face, and silver drop earrings gleamed against her porcelain skin.


    On her feet were Manolo Blahnik heels that cost around $3000 a pair. They clicked softly against the pavement as she approached, her green eyes sparkling with confidence and a hint of mischief.


    "You weren''t going to show up to the castle of the lion in your Revento?n, were you?" Olivia said, kissing her teeth. "I knew it. Which is why I did you a favor by hiring this."


    Darren turned to Rachel, his expression softening. "We''ll talk later. Thank you for getting me the suit."


    Rachel nodded, her gaze lingering on him, as he headed towards Olivia. She watched them share a hug, a more formal one though Olivia had a less-than-formal smile on her face.


    She saw Olivia glanced at her briefly, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile before she turned her attention back to Darren.


    Rachel frowned slightly, turned around and entered back in the Complex.


    "Aren''t you supposed to be broke?" Darren asked her.


    She laughed, a low, melodic sound. "My parents forgot to cancel the black card they gave me for emergencies. I don''t know about you, but this seems like an emergency to me."


    Darren scoffed amusingly as he slid into the limousine after her. His security guard¡ª a tall, broad-shouldered man in a tailored black suit¡ª following and taking a seat near the partition.


    The interior was a study in opulence: butter-soft black leather seats, polished mahogany paneling, and a crystal decanter in the mini bar casting prisms of light across the cabin.


    A discreet panel overhead mimicked a starlit sky, its soft glow bathing the space in a quiet, celestial calm. A faint trace of sandalwood lingered in the air, mingling with the hum of jazz from hidden speakers.


    Darren settled beside Olivia, eyeing her gown which pooling elegantly around her.


    Looking away, he adjusted his cufflinks, exhaling a slow, deliberate breath as he leaned back against the leather.


    "Nervous?" Olivia asked, eyes probing as she studied him.


    "Maybe," he replied, eyes ahead.


    She tilted her head, her earrings dangling. "Good. It''d be smarter to be nervous. It means you know what you''re walking into. Archibald Mooney isn''t a man to take lightly."


    Darren''s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. "I''m not taking Archibald likely."


    She stared at him, then smiled. "That''s good to hear, handsome."


    Darren glanced at her, but she pretended like she hadn''t just said anything.


    So, in the silence, with soft jazz playing, the limousine glided through the city.


    Moments later, Le Cha?teau de la Lune came into view.


    It was a grand estate perched on the northern edge of Los Alverez like a crown jewel. As they arrived, the wrought-iron gates parted slowly, revealing a driveway lined with garden torches and marble columns draped in ivy.


    Cascading waterfalls flanked the entrance, their gentle rush mingling with the scent of lavender and aged oak that hung in the night air.


    The building itself was a study in old-world grandeur, made of stone and steel with tall windows spilling warm, golden light onto the manicured lawns below.


    The limousine came to a stop, and a valet in a crisp black uniform opened the door. Darren stepped out, the invitation letter in his hand.


    He handed the invitation to a steward in a tailored tux who handed it to security.


    Olivia stepped out beside Darren, her gown shimmering as she adjusted her shawl. Their two security guards flanked them, silent and vigilant, as the steward approached. "Mr. Steele, Ms. Sinclair, this way, please."


    They were led through the grand foyer, a breathtaking expanse of polished marble and soaring ceilings.


    Golden sconces gave light to beautiful rooms full of tapestries hanging beside rosewood panels. Waiters moved like shadows, carrying trays of delicate amuse-bouches¡ª caviar tartlets, truffle-dusted scallops, and crystal flutes of vintage champagne.


    A jazz quartet played in the corner, the smooth notes of a saxophone weaving through the hum of conversation.


    The air was rich with the scents of roasted pheasant, aged wine, and the faint musk of power. A few heads turned as Darren passed, their whispers trailing in his wake, but most of the elite gathered here were too absorbed in their own machinations to notice.


    The steward guided them through a corridor lined with velvet drapes and flickering candelabras, the noise of the main dining room fading into a distant murmur. They paused at a gilded door, its surface etched with a crescent moon.


    This must lead to Mr. Mooney''s private lounge. Darren recognized the logo.


    The steward opened it, revealing a quieter chamber¡ª a private lounge that felt like stepping into another world.


    It had the name; Eldar Lounge inscribed in calligraphy on the wall.


    An opulent place, it was. Velvet-lined chairs surrounded a circular ebony table set for three, its surface gleaming under a chandelier of smoked glass. A fireplace crackled behind a wall of reinforced crystal. The air was cooler here, scented with cedar and the faint tang of aged scotch.


    There were men in suits everywhere, standing at attention with mean and military expressions on their faces.


    And in the center of it all, there sat Archibald Mooney.


    The Lion himself.

 Chapter 212: Darren Vs Archibald (Round 1!)

    The table he sat on was crescent-shaped, carved from a single slab of ebony, and top of it was an already opened bottle of Pinot Noir and a half filled glass.


    Archibald Theodore Mooney.


    He was dressed just as Darren had imagined. Not literally, but the vision remained.


    A vision of calculated menace. It was like there was this smoke of burning aura seeping out of him, billowing from his bespoke Armani suit¡ª matte black, devoid of unnecessary flourish¡ª that clung to his lean frame like armor forged for boardrooms rather than battlefields.


    His silver hair was combed neatly and his neat beard gave him the look of some ancient fantasy king. A crescent moon pin at his collar caught the light, a subtle emblem of his empire.


    At that same moment, he was scrutinizing Darren just as much as Darren was scrutinizing him. But his eyes, they were freaking intense.


    Dark. Unyielding. It had time and experience behind it, and the weight of a man who had shaped the city''s skyline and its shadows with equal ease.


    Archibald sat motionless, a predator at rest, exuding the kind of authority that didn''t need to shout.


    Darren kept his face under the mask of control: marble-smooth, with steel-blue eyes that betrayed nothing.


    Olivia Sinclair followed a step behind, her Carolina Herrera gown cascading to the ground and shimmering with every movement. Her presence was a counterpoint to Darren''s intensity, but even with her elegance, she had no plans of taking the limelight from Darren. No one would want such gravity.


    Archibald turned his head slightly, noticing her. He didn''t say anything, but waited for them to get closer.


    Their two security guards flanked them silently, their faces impassive as they took their positions near the door, eyeing the other guards present in the room. Archibald''s own security detail.


    The Lion did not rise. Not that Darren expected him to. Once they were close enough, with a single, languid gesture, he indicated the chair opposite him. "Mr. Steele. Sit."


    The words were not a request but a command, delivered with the ease of a man accustomed to obedience.


    Darren gave a curt nod ¡ª polite, but not deferential ¡ª and lowered himself into the chair, making sure his movements showed strength and confidence, not any sort of fest or submission.


    Olivia stepped back, taking her place against the velvet-lined wall beside Darren''s guard. Regardless of her relationship with Archibald''s colleague, for today, she was an entourage.


    And the room was not meant for entourages; it was a stage for kings.


    The silence stretched, heavy as the air before a storm. Archibald''s fingers rested lightly on the stem of a crystal glass, ignoring its crimson contents.


    The fireplace crackled softly, the only sound in the room.


    Darren waited, keeping his face as impassive as his last name.


    "Do you know what makes men kings in this city, Mr. Steele?" Archibald began with a voice that was low and smooth, each syllable honed like a blade.


    That was a rhetorical question of course, and he didn''t wait for an answer. "It isn''t wealth. Not power, not fame, not even ambition. It''s timing. The knowledge of when to strike, when to yield, when to vanish into the shadows and let the world forget you were ever there."


    He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto Darren''s. "You emerged in a vacuum. Anders fell. That is on him, he was sloppy, overconfident. Smithers collapsed under his own perversion and greed. I was abroad, tending to matters beyond this city''s borders. Morrison hesitated, as he always does. The board was open, and you ¡ª a young man with a sharp mind and sharper instincts ¡ª saw the gap and claimed it."


    He paused, a faint smile curling his lips, though it held no warmth. "I will give it to you, boy. That was not foolish. It was masterful."


    Darren remained silent, his face unreadable, his hands resting lightly on the arms of his chair. His stillness was not submission but a coiled readiness.


    At this moment, Darren viewed himself as a wounded panther, deceiving its prey. Letting it believe that it was the predator, while he prepared to pounce.


    Archibald''s smile faded, replaced by a glint of approval. "Then, you went and did even more. You acquired the Hightower Group with precision that I can only compare to that of a surgeon.


    "You brought Kaito Sagomoto and Leonard Holloway into your fold¡ª men I consider honourable and virtuous. You lured my assets with offers so clean they gleamed, backed by paperwork no lawyer could dispute. You humiliated Ryan Anders, destroyed the oldest family in Los Alverez''s history, the Hendersons, and dismantled Gareth Smithers'' empire before he could blink. All of it..." He tilted his head, as if appraising a rare artifact. "Commendable."


    He set his glass down, the soft clink echoing in the quiet. "So, Mr. Steele, tell me. Why are you here?"


    Darren''s voice was even, measured. "You invited me."


    Archibald chuckled, a low, dry sound. "I did, didn''t I? But surely you must have wondered what the reason was. You must have a suspicion of some sort."


    Darren shrugged with one shoulder. "Why bother with suspicions when you can just tell me?"


    Archibald chuckled again. "Spoken like a true businessman. I''ll tell you then. You see, Mr. Steele, I invited you here because I know what you are."


    He scoffed. "You are not noise. You''re not some upstart with a shiny logo and dreams of blockchain billions. I know you. I know that you''re deliberate. Systematic. I know that your hunger to succeed, your anger for once failing... I know that it makes you dangerous." His eyes narrowed, the word hanging between them like a guillotine. "And I do not tolerate danger."


    The air suddenly grew heavier once he said that, the firelight casting shadows across Archibald''s sharp cheekbones. He leaned back, steepling his fingers.


    "You''ve built something remarkable with Steele Investments . A vision. A machine. But vision alone doesn''t survive in this city. It needs protection. Allies. Infrastructure. So you know what? Tonight, I will offer you what no one else can."


    Here it came... the pitch. Darren narrowed his eyes. The real reason why he was here.


    Archibald''s voice softened, but it was the softness of a blade sliding from its sheath. "Join Moon Enterprises. I''ll give you a division¡ª fully funded, fully autonomous. Your own executive wing, your name on the door, your genius untouched. Insulation from state regulators. Direct channels to policy makers. Contracts in education, urban development, even national security. Instant approval for any kinds of expansions. I''m giving you a sandbox, Mr. Steele, but one with toys no other store has."


    Darren''s brow lifted slightly, the only sign he was listening.


    "In exchange," Archibald continued. "I want access. Your analytics. Your A.I. architecture. The predictive algorithms behind Trendteller''s insight protocols. You can keep your bitcoins and keep your empire, but you play within my boundaries. No more poaching Moon-linked companies. No more unchecked acquisitions."


    He paused, letting the offer settle, his eyes never leaving Darren''s. "I know how this must feel for you. But listen, this is not a takeover. It''s a partnership. A chance to build without the weight of my opposition."


    Darren tilted his head, his voice cool. "And if I refuse?"


    Archibald''s smile was thin, almost serpentine. "Then you will have me as an enemy, Mr. Steele. Your mining operations face new environmental regulations¡ª ones I''ve already drafted. Your licenses stall in committee, indefinitely. Your allies: Sagomoto, Holloway, Tamara Johnstone, even Grant Hayes that you hold down dear, and your own board. They will all drift away. Not because I threaten them, but because I remind them who draws the map of this city."


    He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "But that would be a waste. You''re young, brilliant, commanding. I don''t destroy what I admire... unless it forces my hand."


    The firelight danced across Archibald''s face, illuminating the sharp planes of his features.


    He was a man who had clawed his way to the top not through brute force but through intellect, foresight, and an uncanny ability to bend others to his will.


    But now, because of all the power he had gathered, brute force was something he could freely use. Without a single fear in the damn world.


    Every word, every pause, was a chess move, calculated to expose weaknesses, to coax surrender without firing a shot. He sat back, satisfied, as if the game were already won.


    "So... What will it be?" he asked. "Become my subsidiary, keep your bitcoins, but give me everything else and have all the control you need to expand in this city and beyond? Or lose it all and oppose me."


    It was a tempting offer.


    But Darren Steele was no pawn.


    Inside him, something shifted¡ª a spark igniting into a blaze. His passive skill, Command Aura, stirred to life.


    The invisible force drew the room''s light to him, and slowly began to influence every living person present.


    His posture straightened, his shoulders squared, and his steel-blue eyes hardened into something unyielding, almost predatory. The panther was done pretending.


    The air around him thickened, as if the very atmosphere bent to his presence.


    He leaned forward, his movement deliberate, tectonic. His voice was low when he spoke. "You''ve said everything you want, Mooney."


    The use of his name, unadorned, hung in the air like a challenge. Archibald''s eyes narrowed. So he is that daring?


    Darren''s gaze locked onto his, unwavering. "Now it''s my turn to talk. And your turn to listen."


    The room held its breath.

 Chapter 213: Darren Vs Archibald (Round 2!)

    "You''ve said everything you want, Mooney. Now it''s my turn to talk. And your turn to listen."


    Archibald''s fingers stopped tapping. Olivia''s brows lifted ever so slightly, her breath caught. No one had ever spoken to Archibald like that¡ª not in this city or the entire state.


    The guards looked at each other uneasily, Archibald''s narrowed their eyes in defense but refrained from any action unless told otherwise by Archibald himself.


    At this point, Darren''s posture was straight, unyielding. His eyes were locked on Archibald''s and no one else while his face was stern and ruthless.


    "Let''s start with what I don''t want. I don''t want a leash dressed up as a crown. A disguise of power. A facade of authority. What you''re offering to me right this moment is autonomy wrapped in velvet chains, Mr. Mooney, and you call that a partnership."


    He creased his brows. "I feel insulted that you thought that I would fall for it. What did I come off as? Did I look desperate, Mr. Mooney? Gullible? Impressionable?"


    There was no answer.


    "Surely there had to have been something that made you think it was okay to offer me such a ridiculous deal."


    Ding!


    ©³This person''s anger is increasing©¿


    Ding!


    ©³This person''s dislike for you is rapidly growing!©¿


    "What are you playing here, boy. I''m giving you the keys to the kingdom."


    "It''s not the keys of the locks guarded by security. What use are the keys when I have to ask for permission to use them?"


    He placed both palms on the table, his words precise as a scalpel. "And I''m not a ''boy'' so let''s stop with the condescending words. However, you are right that I do want expansion."


    The silence in the lounge was grave. Everyone was listening, and they were all influenced by the power of his words and the bravery at which he spoke them.


    "But I don''t want it to be conditional. I don''t want it to be filtered through an empire built on fear and favors. I want my algorithms untouched, my IP sovereign, and my people protected. I didn''t pull Trendteller, Delverate, and Castle Cottage from the dirt just to see them kneel to a name."


    Archibald scoffed. "The Mooney name is the strongest in this state. One of the strongest in the entire world. Any subsidiary of ours... as long as it has the Moon brand, is destined for success." His expression was granite.


    "Yet I don''t want it." Darren responded. "This so-called success is fleeting. I''d only relish in it for what? A second? Soon, I''ll realize the walls closing in around me and then the success all but disappears. Gone in a moment."


    He leaned forward, adjusting his legs. "But do you know what is permanent? A contract. The one that grants you all my data. Because that''s what you want isn''t it?"


    Ding!


    ©³This person is becoming defensive©¿


    "You want my data. However, there''s also something you need." Darren smirked. "Relevance."


    "Pfft! Ha! Ha!" Archibald chuckled dryly. "That''s ridiculous. Relevance? I am Archibald Mooney, I am always relevant."


    "Yeah, yeah, but stay with me here, why don''t you?" His eyes became more knowing. Taunting. "In order for a person to maintain a certain lifestyle, they''re going to require the same assets that grant them that lifestyle. It just logically follows, don''t you think?"


    He shrugged. Archibald didn''t answer, and so Darren continued.


    "So... For a man of your caliber to maintain his status ¡ª his great throne of relevancy, you need to remain relevant."


    Ding!


    ©³This person is being introspective due to your words.©¿


    "But the problem is that right now, you stand on a collapsing mountain of legacy companies and still look like a pioneer. So you call in the boy king ¡ª one of the most talked about entities in the city ¡ª to lend your brand a heartbeat. But let''s be clear, Mooney; I didn''t come here to carry your empire or be a part of it. I came here to expand mine."


    The words echoed, slow and sharp. Olivia''s gaze was locked on Darren now, something new behind her eyes; respect, awe, admiration.


    Perhaps it wasn''t even new at all. Perhaps she had always felt this way and couldn''t ignore it in the moment no matter how she tried. However, the emotion she always knew was present was even more blaring now:


    Affection.


    Darren exhaled. "You said timing makes kings. You''re right. And your timing is late. I control the new frontier. Not because I inherited it. But because I built it, line by line, deal by deal, when you were in Russia and Dubai, leaving the business economy in the hands of criminals like Ryan Anders and Gareth Smithers."


    A long pause took control as Darren and Archibald locked on with each other. The command aura still pulsed.


    "So here''s my pitch to you. I want access to Moon Enterprises'' international infrastructure. I want expansion rights and priority selection for my digital products in Bidding Gates. I don''t want any ownership from you or oversight. In return, you can integrate select Trendteller+ analytics into your non-strategic sectors. You can also have first stakeholder rights for new assets. We keep it arm''s-length. We become allies this way."


    Darren leaned in, resting his jaw and his crossed fingers. "You get relevance. I get reach. Nobody bows."


    The silence that followed was profound. The only sound was the subtle shift of the fireplace behind them.


    Archibald leaned back slowly, folding his hands.


    Then he smiled. Not out of amusement. But as one predator seeing another.


    Perhaps they were both panthers.


    "Let me make something clear, Mr. Steele," he said, his voice colder now. No more ''boy.'' "This is not a negotiation. This was an evaluation. And while your confidence is admirable, your ignorance is almost poetic."


    He stood.


    "If I decide you''re an obstacle, I won''t compete with you. I''ll erase you. Your licenses will be tied up in red tape until your assets die of old age. Your warehouses will mysteriously fail inspection. Your partners will lose banking privileges. Your marketing accounts will be flagged by regulators for ''data sensitivity'' reviews. Your very name will be associated with instability: a boy who rose too fast, too soon, and threatened the balance."


    He leaned closer.


    "You don''t understand how fragile public trust is. I do. Because I built it. And I know how to break it."


    The words landed like hammers. Darren felt his heart squeeze a little bit, knowing every single thing Archibald just said was true. He was the god of the business world in Los Alverez.


    But Darren caught himself before he could trip, regaining his courage and soaking the room once again in his passive skill.


    He got on his feet as well. Matching Archibald eye for eye.


    "Then maybe you should think about this, Archibald," Darren said, tone razor-sharp. "Everything you described; I''ve already survived some version of it. I''m still standing. Anders failed. Henderson failed. Smithers failed. And I''m still here. Perhaps starting a war is your second strategy to maintain relevance. But you own the biggest company in the state, coming for me only means you''re testing your chances of falling just like the others. And as big as you are, you''re going to fall the hardest."


    Another pause.


    "Because if you try to bury me, Mr. Archibald Mooney, you better not miss."


    Archibald stared at him.


    Then gave a quiet nod. "So be it, Darren Steele."


    Irrespective of the animosity and tension, the meeting ended without a handshake.

 Chapter 214: Far From the Tree

    He turned around to leave, but Archibald said something to him that stopped him right on his heels.


    "Do you know something?" he said. "I have a son right around your age. Though it may seem that... the two of you couldn''t be any more different."


    "Tyler Mooney," Darren said, half-glancing over his shoulder. "Yeah I know your son. Everyone in the city does."


    He hesitated. "By the looks of things, the apple didn''t fall very far from the tree."


    Archibald instantly grimaced. "Have a goodnight, Mr. Steele."


    "Yeah," Darren replied. "You have a good night too."


    He sunk both hands into his pocket and headed out of the lounge. The guard followed by his side. Olivia stood up to leave, glancing back at Archibald for a moment.


    Standing there, the silver maned lion glared back at her, squinting his eyes like he was communicating to her using the force. Olivia had an uncomfortable look on her face as she turned around and followed after Darren, leaving the private lounge.


    They stepped out of the hotel minutes later, meeting the cool night air of the city. Darren merely checked the time for a quick second, 8:35, before he entered into the limousine after Olivia.


    His face was a blank canvas hiding the emotions and thoughts stirring within him. And as though everyone understood, they remained silent.


    The driver turned the key and the engine took off. Soon, they were on the road.


    The city lights of Los Alverez gleamed like broken stars through the limousine windows, blurred by the gentle hum of motion and the tint of the glass.


    Inside, the cabin was a sanctuary of leather and the silence that continued ever since they left Le Cha?teau de la Lune. Soft ambient lighting bathed the space in a warm glow. Darren sat with one foot crossed over the other, his gaze pinned to the passing skyline, his jaw still sharp with tension.


    Olivia watched him from her side of the seat, her hands resting on her lap, fingers delicately interlaced. The confidence he had carried at the supper, the way he spoke to Archibald Mooney without flinching, still echoed in her chest.


    She broke the silence.


    "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice gentle, probing. "You haven''t blinked in a while."


    Darren didn''t turn to her. "I''m fine," he said simply, his tone flat. "Just thinking."


    Olivia tilted her head slightly, studying him. "It''s okay to be a little rocked by it, you know? Some of us become something else; we have adrenaline rushing through us. Fear basically goes out the window."


    Darren finally abandoned the window and looked at her. "What are you talking about?"


    She giggled confusedly. "What do you mean? The way you spoke to Archibald Mooney ¡ª that was just... That was just you? It wasn''t a rush of adrenaline or maybe... anger? That made you lose all respect for him? Speak without fear?"


    She blinked her eyes as she gazed at him, not sure how she would react if the answer he gave her was ''yes.''


    "Yes,'' he said.


    She choked silently.


    "I''m... always like that." He looked elsewhere. "I thought you''d noticed."


    "I did..." Olivia said with a surprised tone. "I just didn''t expect it at the level with the most powerful man in the state. I mean, Darren... Back there, you were just so... unreal. I felt goosebumps crawl over me every time you spoke. You don''t even seem to understand the gravity of what you''ve done, Darren. That was Archibald fucking Mooney back there. And you didn''t just hold your own, you practically stared him down."


    Darren looked at her again, his eyes cooler than usual, the steel in them sharp. "I guess maybe I''m overlooking the possible effects of my actions. Those threats he gave me. If he laid out anyone against me I could be floored as quickly as I''ve risen. But, I don''t know if I''ve told you, Olivia. No man dictates my pace. Not even Mooney."


    She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "God, I can''t believe it. You know, you were never that confident in high school. Not even in college. I mean... Not exactly like this. Sure, you were daring, but it was the kind of confidence that was always slightly misplaced."


    Darren allowed himself a smirk. It was faint. Enough to not make himself look cheerful. "Olivia? Is that a kind way of saying I was reckless."


    She smiled back. "I guess it is." Then, catching his handsome blue eyes, she shied away and lowered her gaze. "But if you had asked me to be your girlfriend even once back then... I would have said yes. Jumped at it, actually."


    Darren blinked at her nervous green head. He knew this conversation would come up sooner or later, especially with all the time they''d been spending together. And also because she''d already confessed before.


    "But you kept chasing Lily and Alison," she continued, eyes now fixed on him, her voice quiet but firm. "It was always them. Even though I was right there. It made me feel... unworthy."


    He chuckled dryly. "I told you before. It wasn''t anything about you. Alison and Lily were popular. Loud. They wore their confidence like armor. And I felt like I had a better chance with them than with you because you were different. You were smart, calm, and still popular. You were always quiet so I was intimidated by that. It felt wrong and disrespectful to go for you cause I knew I was way below your league."


    She turned toward him fully, her expression open, vulnerable, yet laced with a teasing glint. "How about now?"


    He raised a brow.


    "Are you finally in my league, Darren?"


    Darren was calm as he looked at her, into her green big eyes. His heartbeat fastened as she gazed back up at him. "I don''t know. You tell me."


    Olivia leaned closer, her perfume wafting softly through the cabin. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back to his eyes. "You''re leagues above everyone now. Even now, I''m the one who is below your league..."


    She didn''t finish the sentence.


    Instead, her lips met his.


    The kiss was unhurried, firm, but not desperate. It was the quiet acknowledgment of something long-overdue. A closing of the distance not just between mouths, but years of missed timing.


    Darren responded, his hand resting on her thigh as he leaned in, deepening the kiss with the controlled passion of someone who never rushed but always meant every move.


    It was intense.


    They''d even forgotten that the guards were there. The two men glanced at each other uncomfortably like some omniscient being watching was expecting them to follow suit.


    The kiss went on for a moment longer.


    Then, they finally pulled away, still gazing into each other''s eyes. The limousine continued its silent drive, and for the first time in the evening, Darren''s face softened.


    He looked at her, down her neck, into her cleavage and sighed. "As much as I want to... we can''t do this."


    Olivia frowned. Disappointed.


    "Not tonight."

 Chapter 215: Bitcoin Withdrawal

    Morning came quickly.


    Darren sat in the high-backed leather chair behind his desk, facing the window now, his reflection faint against the glass, his steel-blue eyes fixed not on the skyline but on the holographic interface projected before him.


    Last night had been eventful. His meeting with Archibald Mooney had led him to become even more aware of the fragility of his present status.


    Maybe he should have listened to Archibald''s offer, it was a sure fire way to protect himself.


    But... What Archibald was basically asking was for Darren to offer up his company to be swallowed by his, claiming that he would be protected under his brand.


    Darren would be a puppet. That was the truth. And as tantalizing as that deal would be for many others, Darren didn''t want to live a life under the shadow of Moon Enterprises.


    Speaking of his growth as in the business world, he was reclined back on his chair, reading the lines on the Investor System''s interface.


    The screen was on his Profile Status, glowing in sharp, neon purple text, a digital ledger of his empire, his ambitions, and his burdens.


    Darren reclined deeper, the leather creaking softly under his weight. His jaw tightened as he processed the figures.


    Just that morning, the Forbes lists of billionaires all over the world had been updated. Although Darren was far far down the list, he was no. 38 on another list. Forbes list of the world''s youngest billionaires.


    Amongst others in the list were some he knew like Lawson Zurich and his own ally and friend, Grant Hayes.


    Darren didn''t downplay this accomplishment. In fact, he allowed himself to relish in it. Earlier that morning, he made a post in CryptoTracker and Facebook, congratulating himself on the achievement.


    The posts had gathered multiple likes and comments from his followers and other users. Being on the list was no small feat; it was a coronation in the eyes of the world. But at the same time, to Darren, it was a reminder of how far he still had to climb.


    He certainly could be no.1 one day.


    His gaze shifted to the Monthly Quests. The quests for the month flickered into view, and Darren re-read them with a stern expression.


    ©³Monthly Quests:


    ¡ª King of the Block


    Reach a mining milestone of 32,000 BTC before the month ends. Every block matters.


    Reward: Passive Mining Efficiency Boost (10%)©¿


    ¡ª Enemy of My Enemy


    Forge a strategic temporary alliance with a former rival''s contact. Survival is often about knowing when to let the snake bite another.


    Reward: Access to Hidden Network Node (1-time lead bonus)©¿


    Darren''s lips pressed into a thin line, a bitter expression crossing his face. He already had Kara working on the first quest, leading the IT team to hit the 32,000 BTC target.


    But the second quest... that was a riddle wrapped in a warning. An enemy''s enemy?


    It was almost laughable. Who did the system expect him to reach out to¡ªRyan Anders'' former lawyer?


    The business world was a snake pit, and alliances with its denizens were as treacherous as they were necessary. Who could he trust? More importantly, who could he afford to trust?


    The system''s cryptic phrasing gnawed at him, hinting at the moral grayness that business thrived in ¡ª a world where ideals bowed to pragmatism, where even the purest players ended up shaking hands with those they despised.


    Was this what the system was preparing him for?


    His eyes lingered on the reward: ''Access to Hidden Network Node.'' A one-time lead, a connection to an untapped vein of influence or intel.


    Another thing he knew about this world was that information was currency, and a single node could unlock deals, expose weaknesses, or shift the balance of power.


    Hidden Network Nodes were rare system-grade access points. They could expose fraud, leads, even government-level intel. Giving up on that wasn''t an option.


    He leaned back in his chair, sighing softly. Maybe it was time to recalibrate his goals.


    Because while he was a billionaire, he wasn''t the kind of billionaire who could spend without blinking.


    Darren''s wealth, vast as it was, was largely tied to Steele Investments'' valuation¡ª stocks, assets, and intellectual property. His personal liquidity, while substantial, was a fraction of his net worth, and a billionaire''s lifestyle demanded more than corporate credit lines.


    In short, Darren needed cash, real and unencumbered, to fuel the life he was building.


    And with Bitcoin''s price ticking upward¡ª$6.50 per BTC as of this morning, it was time to liquidate part of his portfolio.


    He leaned forward, the interface responding to his gesture, pulling up the Bitcoin Investment tab. His Bitcoin holdings glowed at the center: 3,750,000 BTC.


    Darren exhaled, feeling nostalgia creep into his bones. The memory of him last year ¡ª a few months ago¡ª in his bedroom with his old laptop, purchasing Bitcoin after learning about the Financial Paradox.


    His fingers danced across the holographic keyboard, the interface shifting to the ''Sell'' module:


    ©³Amount of Bitcoin to Sell: $________©¿


    He typed in the full amount: 3,750,000 BTC. The system calculated instantly, projecting the payout at the current market price:


    ©³Are you sure you want to sell 3,750,000 BTC at $6.50 per BTC?©¿


    ©³Estimated Payout: $24,375,000 USD©¿


    His pulse quickened, a faint thrill coursing through him. It wasn''t the money that got him all excited, it was just the game of it all.


    That amount of Bitcoin had only been worth $300,000 when Darren first bought it. Now it was worth almost $30 million. How unbelievable was that?


    He raised his finger, hovering over the glowing ©³Confirm©¿ button, and pressed it.


    The interface pulsed, a soft chime signaling the transaction''s completion:


    ©³Sale Successful!©¿


    ©³BTC Sold: 3,750,000©¿


    ©³Payout: $24,375,000 USD©¿


    ©³Current Bitcoin Holdings: 0 BTC©¿


    Darren exhaled, leaning back in his chair. The cash would hit his personal account within hours, and he could already think of things he planned to lavish it on. Maybe private jets, penthouses, perhaps even a yacht to rival Zurich''s.


    And like always, the overreaction filtered in from CryptoTracker. Within moments, his phone lit up, its notification system buzzing with activity, vibrating as the app''s user comments flooded in, a digital chorus of awe, envy, and speculation:


    ''I was waiting for this! This man plays the market like a fiddle and we all dance''


    ''$24M in one move. This is why he''s on Forbes and I''m eating ramen.''


    ''That''s it. I''m officially changing sides. I''m backing the great Duckling, not ScottishPanda anymore. Like, Darren Steele doesn''t make mistakes. Watch the market ¡ªthis is a signal.''


    Across the city, Andy Nashville leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to CryptoTracker''s live feed. "He''s at it again," he muttered.


    Kaito Sagomoto had a faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched the transaction data roll in. "Bold as always, young Mr. Steele," he murmured, his fingers already typing a message to his analysts.


    But in his sprawling mansion in Highland Estate, Adam Scotland slammed his glass of scotch onto a mahogany table, causing the two women sitting with him to jerk in shock. His eyes burned as he stared at the CryptoTracker alert on his new iPhone, Darren''s name blazing like a taunt.


    His face turned red.


    "Alright! I''ve had just enough of this guy!" he growled, his voice thick with fury. "It''s time I showed the world exactly who the real Bitcoin Billionaire is!"

 Chapter 216: Gasoline to Fire

    After he was done with that, Darren set out a time for his luxurious shopping. He made a list of high end boutiques, real estate agencies and vehicle dealerships. He sent a list to Rachel for her to compile a pricing and options draft.


    Then, he headed to the meeting room to meet with her and the rest of his employees who he had given various objectives to complete.


    Today, they were to submit their reports.


    Inside the meeting room, there was a buzz of low conversation as the executive team assembled, each of them with a portfolio or laptop before them, their faces sharp with focus. The air, cooled by a seamless ventilation system, hummed faintly under the white office lights.


    Shortly after, before they could start conversing, Darren entered the room, walked straight and sat at the head of the table, his charcoal suit impeccable, silver cufflinks glinting.


    They all quietly acknowledged the new record he had just set that morning with over 3 million Bitcoin sold and almost 30 million dollars profited.


    Darren wasn''t here for celebration. His fingers steepled under his chin as his cold gaze swept across the room. It didn''t matter that he''d gotten a little less stern over the last few days because of Rachel and Olivia, he was still the captain of this ship and he expected them to execute his orders impeccably.


    "Last time we gathered here I gave all of you an extra day to finish up on your reports and give me good news on the separate orders I had given you. Now, we''ve arrived at today and now I want your submissions. One after the other."


    He adjusted himself, like someone getting ready for the start of a movie.


    One by one, the team gave their updates.


    Sandy went first. Her glasses sat low on her nose, her data projected onto the white wall behind her. "Under your orders, the Finance Team, led by me, implemented performance-based liquidity across all departments. Output margins have increased an average of 17.3%. Marketing surged to 22.6%, and Logistics 19.8%. We''ve added weekend rotation bonuses, and you were right. Because of this, there was a spike in morale."


    Darren nodded once. "What about the Reserve Pool bonuses?"


    "They''ve already been distributed to qualifying teams. Payroll adjustments were cleared by the Legal Team."


    "Good job, Sandy." Darren almost smiled.


    She blushed. "Thank you... Sir."


    Kara leaned back in her chair, her boots propped up for just a second before she swung them back under. "My turn!" she declared. "We crossed 29,100 BTC yesterday."


    "29 thousand, one hundred already?"


    "Yup," Kara beamed. "We reassigned GPUs from Phase B and brought in offshore coolants with the extra funds. There was a spike in rig temps, but Rico stabilized the readings. Full performance audit is complete, and I''ve flagged eight units for retirement."


    Darren arched a brow. "You did all this ahead of projection. You aiming to impress me?"


    She smirked. "Or maybe, I''m just aiming for those bonuses."


    "Then keep at it," Darren said simply.


    "Yes, boss."


    "Awesome work, Kara."


    "Thank you!"


    Amelia was next. After placing her slot in the projector, it displayed the warehouse blueprints as she spoke, having a tone of pride in the amount of time she''d taken to perfect this draft.


    "SteelDrone One is now fully mapped and cleared."


    "SteelDrone One?" Darren asked with a taunting raised brow.


    "It''s a... work in progress, sir."


    He smirked. "Go on."


    "Local contractors have started groundwork on Bay A and Bay B simultaneously. We''re employing thirty new night workers. Surveillance drones have arrived. We''ll begin installing thermal nodes by Friday."


    Darren raised an eyebrow. "What''s the timeline for that?"


    "Five weeks. I trimmed all the excess windows."


    "Double their night pay as promised. No delays."


    Amelia nodded, tapping a command into her tablet.


    "That warehouse is very important for us, Amelia. You''re the one who captured it and you''ve done an excellent job preparing it for work. Keep it up."


    She tilted her head and smiled softly. "Will do, sir."


    Rachel followed. Her tone was a touch quieter, but her words were precise. "Trendteller+ (VISTA-5) has been encoded with multilingual mod engines. We''re testing lite licenses in Peru, Vietnam, and Brisbane. Modular ad packages are underway, and B2B onboarding begins Monday."


    "Distribution is?"


    "Staggered... unfortunately. Even though we''re watching the numbers before scaling, Lila is overseeing the expansion and she might have updates on that."


    Darren turned to the young CEO of Trendteller. "Are there any updates?"


    She shook her head, sharing a glance with Sandy. "Nope. It''s going smoothly."


    Darren offered a rare glimmer of approval to her and Rachel. "Keep the metrics tight."


    Simon was last. His fingers trembled slightly with excitement. "Mr. Steele, your demands have been met to its full extent. Led by me, the portfolio team started with the clean-brand proxy and now it has been structured: Nomina Analytics. Website and dashboard are ready for trial clients. We''ve layered in auto-gen visual reporting and added adaptive AI support for Trendteller+ and Delverate. And..."


    "And?" Darren prompted.


    Simon''s eyes twinkled. "Steele Tech''s core schema is mapped. R&D layout begins next week."


    Darren allowed himself a slow nod. "That is good. TSubmit all reports for Phase 1 review by midnight."


    Everyone nodded.


    Darren didn''t need to offer thanks. But he did. He thanked all of them for a perfect execution of everything he had asked, crowning them as the pioneers for this empire.


    Results were the currency needed to grow it. And they had given him results.


    Later, when he got into his office, Darren sat in solitude, going through everything that had been submitted to him. His empire was expanding, and it was at times like this that it would be the most fragile.


    Archibald Mooney... Once again his thoughts went to that man. He couldn''t allow him to take it all from him.


    A knock broke into his thoughts.


    "Come in," he said without turning.


    The door opened and Miranda Sloane stepped in, clutching her laptop tightly against her chest. Her blond hair was pinned neatly, her glasses slightly crooked from her rush. She walked in slowly, almost hesitantly.


    "Mr. Steele, do you have a moment?"


    Darren turned. "Miranda. You''re a rare sight. What is it?"


    She crossed to the desk, setting her laptop down and pulling up the files with trembling fingers. "I found something, sir. It''s... concerning."


    He watched the screen as she navigated.


    "So... uhm... Three Holloway vendors. Their ownership changed suddenly, and the trail ends in holdings owned by Richard Morrison''s front companies. It''s buried, but not completely invisible. I thought it was odd so I checked again. And it seems like he''s acquiring our medical pipeline quietly."


    Darren''s face went still, expression unreadable. He leaned closer.


    "Let me see that."


    Miranda stepped aside and let Darren review the data.


    "He''s trying to cut Leonard at the knees." Darren said, his eyes speeding through letter after letter. "If one controls the pipeline, they control the product. He could crash Holloway stock or force a buyout."


    He picked up his phone. "I have to call Leonard."


    Miranda stood back and watched with her hands clasped.


    -----


    Back in the conference room, Rachel narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched Sandy and Lila pack up.


    "You two didn''t say why our product wasn''t confirmed at the Gate. You told me something held you back. What was it?"


    Lila and Sandy exchanged a glance.


    Sandy sighed. "It was Tyler. Mooney."


    Rachel blinked. "You mean the Tyler Mooney? Archibald Mooney''s son."


    Sandy shrugged. "Who else would we mean?"


    "He delayed our entry." Lila chipped. "But we didn''t want to tell Darren. Not yet."


    Rachel crossed her arms, her only visible eye turning stern. "Why not?"


    "Because Miranda already has something serious to tell him today," Lila said. "And we didn''t want to add gasoline to fire."


    Rachel looked away, exhaling.


    "So what''s the plan? You want us to deal with ourselves?"


    Sandy looked at Lila and smiled, then they both looked at Rachel. "I mean... What could go wrong?"

 Chapter 217: Girlboss Coalition

    The meeting room was very silent now, just the sounds of keyboards, the AC and the soft clatter of closing laptops and rustling folders.


    Even though Darren had already departed, his usual quiet command lingered like a ghost at the head of the table. This was why Rachel felt slightly uneasy talking about this.


    She was one of the three figures standing: Rachel, Sandy, and Lila, huddled near the far end of the room, voices low but charged with urgency.


    Rachel couldn''t believe what Sandy had just suggested. Keeping something like this away from Darren''s ears wasn''t exactly the correct thing to do.


    Whether it was right or not, that was up for debate.


    For Sandy, it was right.


    "We should just handle it ourselves," she said, adjusting her glasses as she crossed her arms. Even though she was the oldest in the team, she kept her respect for Rachel''s position as Darren''s representative.


    Which meant whatever she was planning on doing would at least have to get through Rachel.


    Her voice was cool, respectable and unshaken. Even though it carried the firmness of a decision already made. "We already know what Tyler''s playing at. We were there. If we act now, we might get ahead before he puts another obstacle in our path."


    "I don''t know..." Rachel muttered, glancing at the door Darren had exited through just moments ago and then at his chair. "Going around him, making moves behind his back is not appropriate, Sandy. This isn''t some coffee room dispute. It''s a strategic offensive. What if it blows back on us?"


    "Then we catch it," Sandy replied sharply. "Rachel, come on. We''ve sat in on enough of Darren''s plans to know that inaction is the most dangerous response. He''d do the same thing if he were in our position."


    Lila, hands sunk in her cardigan, leaned forward with a pleading face. "Please, Rachel. Please. This could be our moment to prove we''re more than just operators under Darren''s command. He needs to focus on other things, you know that. He''s so stressed and having us do things like this is why we''re his team in the first place."


    "Besides, we''ve worked our asses off for Trendteller, and that smug Tyler Mooney thinks he can just string us along with a fake reassessment?"


    Rachel pursed her lips, thinking. Her arms unfolded slowly. Then she nodded once, almost reluctantly. "Alright. Fine. But we do this smart, and we do it clean."


    "Yes!"


    "Thank you, Rachel."


    Rachel let out a sigh, praying this would hit them back. "But we can''t do it alone. We need all hands on deck and all minds united. The other girls should be involved."


    They turned their heads to the table and watched silently as Simon Wilkes got up, packed his things, offered them a nod, and quietly slipped out the door.


    Amelia was right behind him, her laptop under her arm.


    But just as she reached the exit, Lila suddenly stepped into her path, blocking her with an innocent smile. Amelia moved to the right. Lila mirrored her. She stepped to the left. So did Lila.


    Amelia blinked, then looked at Rach and Sandy. "What''s going on?"


    From the side, Kara lifted her head from her laptop, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Why''s everyone in a sudden moment of tension? Did I miss something while optimizing our firewall again?"


    Rachel sighed. "Everyone take a seat."


    Amelia hesitated. "Okay...?" She glanced around and cautiously pulled her chair back, sitting down gracefully. Lila followed, then Sandy.


    Once the last of them were seated, Rachel sat at the head of the table, adopting the same stance she''d seen Darren use so often: back straight, elbows on the table, fingers interlocked. "We have something to discuss."


    She looked at Sandy and Lila. "Tell them."


    Sandy took the lead, recounting everything. From the delayed entry status on the Gate''s registry to the sudden change to ''Reassessment Under Review,'' and finally, the all-too-familiar voice that had echoed across the auditorium¡ª Tyler Mooney.


    Lila added her observations, describing his character, the new compliance excuse, and the way Tyler had subtly humiliated Trendteller before a small crowd.


    By the time they were done, Amelia had her arms folded, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Why don''t we just tell Darren? He''d take care of this in five minutes."


    "Five minutes? Okay, Boss is a smart man, but he''s not Superman," Kara joked.


    "But seriously though. Shouldn''t we just tell him?"


    "Darren can''t fight every battle for us. There are some we should fight for him." Sandy replied enthusiastically.


    Lila shrugged. "Besides, he''s dealing with enough crap as it is. Didn''t Miranda just tell him about that Morrison''s play on Holloway?"


    Kara nodded, spinning a pen between her fingers. "Also... it''d be kind of nice to fix something ourselves for once. Just us. Girlboss coalition."


    "Coalition?" Amelia smirked. "What''s that, a cult?"


    "I like it," Lila said with mock formality, raising an imaginary glass. "To girlboss workdays."


    Rachel finally raised her hand. "Alright, jokes aside. I''m serious. It is a good idea that we try to solve this without Darren. He''s carried enough weight. I say we do it to build internal trust, too. We always work individually. This time, we work like an actual team. Other girls have girls'' nights. We''ll have girl-fight work days."


    "Sounds kinda violent," Amelia muttered, though she was clearly amused.


    "But accurate," Sandy added, straight-faced.


    Rachel smiled faintly. "So now what? We know the issue. Let''s find a solution. Tyler''s move was calculated. If we want to shake him, we have to think like Darren."


    Lila crossed her arms. "Which means what? Public pressure? Aggressive marketing?"


    "No," Rachel said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Darren doesn''t go for the obvious. He forces choices. Strategic pressure. A scenario where the opponent either caves or loses something more valuable."


    They all fell silent.


    The hours rolled. Coffee cups appeared and disappeared. Notes were scrawled on shared screens, and half-sent emails were drafted and deleted. At some point, Kara ordered takeout. Lila lay flat on the conference table for a moment in frustration.


    Then Rachel''s eyes lit up.


    "I''ve got it," she said, straightening.


    The others leaned in.


    "What if we announce a Trendteller demo in San Navarro? It''s a smaller region, but it''s been on Moon''s radar for digital modernization. If we partner with a couple of local public vendors and offer them free use for a year, we''ll stir curiosity and get municipal eyes on us."


    Sandy''s eyes glinted. "Tyler can''t blacklist us there without backlash. That''s state-level obstruction. Especially if it looks like we''re helping public sectors for free."


    Lila nodded slowly. "And if we send the announcement through media partners... it becomes a PR event. He either lets us pass the Gate to avoid bad optics, or he openly blocks public innovation."


    Amelia grinned. "That''s dirty."


    "It''s brilliant," Kara added.


    Rachel folded her arms. "Then let''s do it. Schedule the announcement, prep the press kits. Lila, reach out to the San Navarro vendors you''ve been eyeing. Sandy, get the financials ready. Kara, make sure the infrastructure can handle a trial load. Amelia, handle the distribution timeline."


    Everyone nodded.


    Somehow, in mere hours, they''d all become very invested in this plan of theirs. And soon, girl fight-work days began.

 Chapter 218: Next Plan Requires Underwear

    To be honest, the plan, on paper, had seemed airtight. Ruthless like it needed to be and very calculated to avoid being caught off guard. It was also precise and powerful.


    Rachel had spent enough time with Darren so she knew him inside and out. At least, as much as he allowed her to know.


    But she knew that what they had come up with was the kind of strategy Darren would''ve used to pressure an obstacle into submission.


    Nevertheless, there was one big problem: They weren''t Darren. And that fact became painfully, publicly clear.


    -----


    The next day, early morning as the sun illuminated the beautiful city of Los Alverez, giving light to the working people and the powerful companies, a group of female employees were doing something behind their employer''s back.


    But it was okay, because to them, they were doing it for his own good. And for the good of the company.


    A small press announcement was sent out on behalf of Steele Investments, celebrating the upcoming rollout of Trendteller+ in secondary markets.


    Kara had made sure it wasn''t publicized or anywhere near mainstream, keeping it low but visible enough to legalize the act.


    Rachel had framed it as a bold statement of expansion¡ª subtle enough not to seem like provocation, but sharp enough that those in-the-know would recognize the signal: Trendteller wasn''t waiting anymore. It was moving forward¡ª with or without approval.


    It was a brave move, logically protected and to the best of their knowledge, legally protected as well.


    The second part of their plan involved a "soft" investor rally, fueled by hints dropped in a financial influencer''s radio show. Sandy had contacted a few financial blogs anonymously, seeding whispers that Moon Enterprises had been suppressing competition through the Bidding Gate.


    Rachel had even arranged a casual interview with a state publication ¡ª Lila appearing on the show, warm, eloquent, charismatic.


    Throughout the interview, she danced on the edge of controversy, saying, "Some entities fear what they can''t control. But innovation has a habit of leaking through the cracks."


    The ripple effect of this action was swift. Too swift.


    But it was working too. Trendteller was technically allowed to expand now.


    Technically...


    --------


    That same afternoon, Rachel and Sandy were summoned to the Moon Enterprises satellite office in downtown Los Alverez. They were met not by security, not by a lackey¡ª but by Tyler Mooney himself.


    He welcomed them like a hotel concierge. Leaning on the polished marble desk with that too-white smile of his, he beckoned them in like old friends.


    "Rachel. Sandy. You both look radiant. Stress must suit you."


    Rachel''s lips tightened. Sandy didn''t even blink.


    "You didn''t see that one coming, did you?" Rachel said smugly. "The Bidding Gate might be controlled by your company, but you never imagined that we could argue that Trendteller was founded in another city. San Navarro to be exact."


    Tyler smirked. "For a moment I thought this was Darren''s doing but not very long after I realized that it was not. Pfft. I mean it was glaring to say the least."


    Rachel and Sandy looked at each other, frowning. "What do you mea¡ª"


    "Your ill-advised PR blitz?" Tyler interrupted smoothly, clapping once with mock enthusiasm. "Brilliant! Had a nice kick to it. Pity it was dead on arrival."


    He stepped aside and gestured toward a screen where Trendteller''s status had changed again.


    Status: "Suspended Indefinitely ¨C Under Review"


    Rachel blinked. "How? That wasn''t even a legal move."


    "Correct. It was political," Tyler said, walking past them and tapping his knuckles on the glass. "I know everything about Lila''s company because they had initially attempted to get investments from Horizon Strategies, a company that we have files of. At least when they used to be our ally."


    "Trendteller is a Los Alverez product through and through. So all your antics were a complete waste of time."


    Rachel''s eyes dilated. "You''ve increased the suspension... because of this?"


    "Yes I have," Tyler brushed his collar. "Think of it as your punishment."


    "You think this helps your reputation?" Sandy asked angrily.


    "No. But it soothes my ego."


    He turned back to them and, with a practiced flick of his wrist, pointed toward the door. "And Rachel, let Lila know she sounded wonderful in that interview."


    Rachel narrowed her eyes.


    "That''s right," he grinned. "I listen to the radio."


    Angry, frustrated and defeated, they left without another word.


    --------


    Everyone was in the meeting room later that evening.


    They were slouched. Scattered. Defeated.


    Amelia sat backward in a chair, arms crossed over the top rail. Kara sprawled on the long leather sofa, her boots kicked off. Sandy looked like she''d kill the next person who offered her another slice of humiliation pie. Lila, somehow, had managed to look both tired and embarrassed at once.


    "I think we broke the Gate harder than Tyler ever did," Amelia mumbled.


    "This is my fault, guys. I thought we were helping Darren and look at where that got us," Sandy grumbled.


    Rachel sat at the edge of the table, her fingers steepled under her chin. "Don''t beat yourself too hard. We all agreed to go along with it."


    Lila groaned. "And he keeps flirting with me while tanking our launch. I''ve never felt so... objectified and useless."


    "You mean Tuesday?" Kara teased.


    "Kara!" Rachel scolded lightly, but the room chuckled.


    "Honestly," Kara muttered, brushing a hand through her curls, "I wish we just had a girls night instead of all this. It''d have been more fun, and I wouldn''t feel like a moron."


    Amelia blinked. "Girls night would''ve been less catastrophic. We know better ways to enjoy stress than publicly faceplanting."


    That''s when Rachel''s eyes widened slightly. The thought crackled across her brain like a flash of lightning.


    "No," she said, standing slowly.


    "No what?" Sandy asked.


    Rachel spun around, suddenly energized. "That''s it. We''ve been trying too hard to think like Darren. But we''re not him. We''re women."


    Kara gave a lazy shrug. "...Thanks for the biology lesson."


    "No, no," Rachel said. "Girls solve things differently. We don''t always go corporate, we go dramatic. We get messy. Loud. Personal."


    Amelia leaned forward. "Rachel... what exactly are you thinking?"


    "Tyler. He''ll be at that place tonight, right?"


    Kara''s brows lifted. "Oh... Velvet Echo? It''s a Friday, so I''m sure he''ll be there."


    Sandy winced. "You mean that exclusive strip club he co-owns but pretends not to?"


    Rachel smirked slowly. "You girls know your gossip."


    She turned to the girls, her expression deadly serious but gleaming with mischief.


    "How do you all look in underwear?"

 Chapter 219: Taking the Holdings

    The light from Miranda Sloane''s laptop flickered faintly across Darren Steele''s face, casting hard shadows beneath his eyes as he stared at the screen. Miranda stood at the corner of his desk, her fingers slightly trembling as she clicked through file after file.


    "Three Holloway vendors," she said quietly. "Ownership changes happened over the last week, buried under shell companies. But I traced the trail. It ends in holdings tied to Richard Morrison''s proxies. They''re not clean, but they''re subtle. Almost elegant."


    Darren''s expression froze into something unreadable. Then slowly, he leaned forward.


    "Let me see that."


    Miranda slid the laptop forward. He took over the trackpad, scanning vendor histories, contract transitions, ownership logs. He didn''t blink once.


    "He''s trying to cut Leonard at the knees," Darren murmured. "If he corners the supply chain, he won''t need to touch the board. He''ll just squeeze Holloway from the inside. Cripple the hospital''s cash flow and wait for the buyout to be inevitable."


    He picked up his phone and dialed.


    "Mr. Holloway..."


    "Mr. Steele. Such an unexpected call. Is everything alright?"


    "No. Our company is under attack."


    "Under attack? That sounds very troubling."


    "Listen to me, Mr. Holloway. Richard Morrison is making a move on your vendors. He''s already purchased two and you know what it means when he gets his hands on more."


    "When did this happen?" Leonard gasped.


    "My portfolio manager got hold of it when she was cross checking my allies'' assets." He turned to Miranda. "When?"


    "Yesterday," she mumbled.


    "Yesterday," Darren relayed.


    "How did I not notice?"


    "He used ghost. Did it all with shell companies that your employees might have not bothered to cross check. But that''s by the way now, Mr. Holloway."


    "What''s important now is that you protect your stakes immediately. Review all secondary contractors and raise all your thresholds. I''ll handle the rest."


    "Yes. Thank you for the heads up, Mr. Steele."


    Darren furrowed his brow. "Just doing my job as your partner."


    He hung up after.


    Miranda remained silent, her breath caught. Darren turned to her, sinking the phone in his pockets.


    "Good work. Even I might have missed that but you''re sharp, that is clear from today."


    Miranda''s eyes glistened.


    "Don''t do anything. Your job was to inform me and you''ve done that already. For now, keep watching them. If Morrison so much as breathes in the direction of stocks, I want to know."


    She flushed lightly, but nodded her head with enthusiastic obedience. "Yes, sir."


    As she left the room, Darren turned to the window, a thinking frown on his face.


    ''Morrison.'' his thoughts spoke. The name was starting to taste like ash. It was inevitable that they would face one day, but a move like this wasn''t mere arrogance; it was a sign.


    Morrison had resources, deeper plans already in motion, things he wasn''t seeing. And that was unacceptable.


    ''I need to see it all. Not just the public-facing businesses or the known political allies, but the hidden connections, the shadowy partnerships, the illicit dealings.''


    The kind of things only the Investor System could dig up.


    He summoned the interface.


    ''First, I need a complete map of Morrison''s network. I''m talking about every single thread of his influence, especially financially and politically. Who owes him, who he owns, who he''s bought. I need the full picture of his reach.''


    ''Then, I need to identify the attack vectors. Where are his vulnerabilities? Which of his companies are ripe for flipping, for sabotage, for quiet undermining? We''re not talking about outright destruction here, not yet. We''re talking about surgical strikes, calculated pressure points.''


    ''And once I have that, we launch the retaliatory plays. Ghost bids to tie up his capital, redirection strategies to divert his resources, legal bottlenecks to ensnare him in red tape. I need to undermine his stability, throw him off balance, before he can even begin to gain traction. No longer being careful with using the system to take down my rivals.''


    ©³Insight Protocol on Richard Morrison©¿


    The interface pulsed once.


    ©³Loading...©¿


    He read deep, skipping the personal information and into his company holdings:


    ©³Morrison Pharmaceuticals: $3.4B


    Morrison''s? Health Tech: $1.1B


    Wavestone Media Group (Business Everyday): $950M


    Morrison''s? Real Estate Group: $880M


    MoreTrust Finance: $1.2B


    Morrison''s? Freight: $700M


    Zephyr Defense Contracts: $1.6B


    CivicComms Political Consulting: $500M©¿


    Darren''s eyes narrowed. CivicComms. Wavestone. Morrison''s Health Tech. Every one of those had tendrils near his operations. No wonder Morrison was emboldened.


    He clicked on CivicComms.


    ©³Flag for Proxy Takeover. Request Approval for Legal Ghost Bid?©¿


    "Confirm."


    He moved to Coastal Real Estate Group.


    ©³Nominate Coastal Real Estate for Financial Redirection Strategy?©¿


    "Confirm."


    Darren''s eyes darkened. ''You come for my shares, and I come for your holdings.''


    --------


    Two hours later, Darren stepped out of the dark comfort of his private office and into the waiting limousine. Rachel had already coordinated a quiet meet-up.


    His first stop: CivicComms Political Consulting, the minority shareholder still quietly resisting Morrison''s shadow bids in Coastal Real Estate.


    The building rose like a crystal tooth in West Calivernia. Frosted glass and vertical gardens lined the structure, masking the cutthroat real estate deals made inside.


    Darren stepped into the executive suite where a stern man in a white three-piece waited. Charles Denton, partner and senior controller.


    "Mr. Steele," Denton said. He had a uniquely dry voice. "I must say, this meeting was very unexpected."


    Darren sunk his hands into his pockets and sighed. "Are we doing this, or not, Mr. Denton?"


    The man lifted a brow.


    --------


    Later that afternoon, Darren made his way to Holloway Medicals.


    Leonard Holloway was in his office on the top floor, reviewing files on his computer with an exhausted expression. He looked up as Darren entered.


    "You saved me from drowning today."


    "It is what we do for each other, Mr. Holloway," Darren said, sitting opposite him, "I can''t let you sink when I have a boat. Besides, Morrison''s move is clearly targeted at the both of us.."


    Leonard chuckled dryly. "He''s playing hardball isn''t he? I thought he''d wait until I pushed into federal hospice contracts."


    "He''s accelerating everything. Probably thinks I''m distracted."


    "Are you?"


    Darren didn''t answer. He leaned back, folding his arms, thinking briefly of the meeting with Archibald Mooney.


    "I''ve made moves to try to reclaim the shares, but it''s going to be difficult. And Morrison, he''ll come again. He''ll likely use CivicComms to get the Department of Health to investigate your funding model. Or leak something through his media channels."


    Leonard shook his head. "Why''s he pushing so hard?"


    "He wants revenge, I think." Darren darkened his eyes. "For Ryan Anders."


    Leonard looked at Darren for a moment, smacked his lips and sighed. "Well, whatever you need from Holloway Medicals, it''s yours."


    Darren shook it. "It''s great that you say that, Mr. Holloway, because I do have a few things to ask of you."


    Leonard''s brow shot up. "Oh."

 Chapter 220: Ladies in Disguise

    Dum! Dum! Dum! Dum!


    The sound of bass and tunes, phonk mixed with jazz filled the air. Music.


    It pounded like a heartbeat through the night. Deep and throbbing, rolled through the streets of Los Alverez.


    Neon lights pulsed in rhythmic sync atop the roof of Velvet Echo, casting devilish pinks and purples across passing cars.


    To the ordinary eye, it looked like another luxury gentlemen''s club. But for the right people... on the right nights, it was far more than that.


    This was an exclusive kingdom of velvet shadows, dim-lit deals, and masks worn in more ways than one.


    Outside, the alley behind the club buzzed with tension. The metal back door clanged open, and a short, round man stomped out in a stained magenta vest and leopard print pants. His gold chain glinted under the dull outdoor lights, sweat dotting his wide forehead. He was balding, his hair scraped into a desperate ponytail that refused to retire.


    "Where the hell are my new girls?!" he barked into the humid night, his voice grinding with annoyance. He glanced down at his diamond-encrusted watch. "Our VIP is almost here and he always wants fresh picks tonight. Young, slender girls. Beautiful. Very beautiful. So where the hell are they?!"


    The guards around looked at each other with no answers to give. Whole passersby hurried along, glancing at the chubby, short man.


    Then, a rumble filled the night air.


    The man spun his neck to the left. "Is that them?!"


    From the far end of the alley, headlights washed over the loading dock as a shiny black party bus rolled in. The engine purred low before hissing to a stop.


    "Come on! Come on! Move it! Open the damn door!"


    The driver jumped down, a big hunk man with a mustache, and pulled the door open with a mechanical whoosh.


    Four women stepped down in sequence.


    Their feet, covered in high heels, hit the ground in clicks as they stepped down from the vehicle while the man watched.


    Each wore a style of dance wear so sultry it could melt glass. Their bodies were merely covered by sleek leather straps, satin-edged lace, thigh-high heels with more shine than sanity.


    Their faces were obscured by custom-designed masquerade masks. All four had the kind of poised elegance that couldn''t be faked. Their bodies were slim, tender and yes... the curves.


    They were present in the right places. Full breasts, thin waist, feminine thighs. Their posture were like catwalk queens, and their eyes gleamed even behind the fabric and feathers of their masks.


    The first wore a raven-black corset bikini, with a gothic lace collar wrapped tight around her throat. Her dark brown hair fell over her left eye, curling softly against her cheek. She seemed colder for some reason.


    Next came a blood colored redhead with twin pigtails, her outfit bright red with glittering heart motifs. She wore a faux whip on her belt and gave the pimp a cheeky wink.


    Third was a honey-bronzed brunette woman in deep violet, her hair styled in benign bangs, her toned body glistening with body oil. She had beautiful legs that were stretched forever in fishnet stockings.


    Last was a caramel-skinned bombshell with icy blue eyes and short blonde hair. She was wearing an all-white ensemble trimmed with sheer mesh. She appeared a bit more nervous than the other three.


    The pimp sized them up with growing satisfaction, licking his lips.


    "Ohoho," he chuckled, hands on his gut. "Now that''s what I''m talking about. Face time, ladies. Masks off."


    There was a pause. The women looked at each other, hesitant.


    The pimp frowned. "The fuck? Didn''t you just hear what I said? Take off those masks, dammit!"


    One by one, the women removed their masks.


    He scanned their faces ¡ª grinning at the red haired and the nervous blonde, smirking at the one in violet¡ª until his gaze paused hard on the raven-dressed one with the single eye exposed.


    "You... Haven''t I''ve seen you somewhere before," he muttered, squinting.


    A silent best dropped.


    The pimp noticed the girl stiffening, while the others glanced in her direction as if worried.


    "You one of Tyler''s regulars or somethin''? It''s supposed to be new girls, not club regulars."


    She said nothing, merely gave a soft shake of her head.


    The red haired leaned forward, voice syrupy. "Maybe you have, sir. She''s popular, but has never been in this club. She goes by the name... Dark Lotus. You must have seen her in the magazines."


    The pimp raised a brow, letting the name roll off his tongue. "Dark Lotus, huh? Exotic. I like that. She does have a nice... curvy, slender... Eyyy! No. You''re for the boss!"


    He gave them a wide grin, yellow teeth glinting. "You four are up tonight for our VIP. Not just any VIP. He''s the VIP of all VIPs so consider yourself lucky. You''ll be taken to Private Floor. He''ll be picking his favorite personally. You get him excited... you get bonuses. Capisce?"


    The four women nodded silently, sharing quick, unreadable glances.


    He pointed toward the back hallway with a thick gold ringed finger. "Dressing room''s that way. Let''s not keep the man waiting."


    They followed the dim corridor into a lavish back area, where velvet walls hugged the narrow passage and perfume lingered in the air like whispers.


    Inside the private prep room, the door clicked shut. The lighting softened.


    Finally, the girls were alone.


    In one swift movement, the masks of performance fell.


    The woman known as Dark Lotus turned to the others and tugged her hair behind her ear. Rachel.


    "We''re in," she said, all business.


    The blonde collapsed to a chair and sighed. Lila, while the red haired flung the heels of her feet.


    "God, my feet are already screaming," she muttered. "Remind me why we didn''t just burn down his server room instead?"


    Lila was picking her nails. "Because arson is still technically frowned upon in civilized society."


    Amelia, the calm one in white, sat elegantly on the makeup bench and crossed her legs. "Let''s go over it again. No mistakes."


    Rachel nodded. She looked down at the tiny camera tucked in the thread between her cleavage. "Are you listening, Sandy?"


    Back in the bus, inside the trunk, Sandy sat by a computer, the glow on her face as she crunched down a Pringle. "I''m listening."


    Then, Rachel went through the plan one more time.


    "And if he doesn''t talk?" Amelia asked after she finished.


    "He''s going to," Rachel said. "If not, Lila would make him talk."


    "What?! Why does it have to be me?"


    Rachel shrugged. "The bastard likes you."


    "No no. That''s not a compliment. At all."


    "Will that be like a seduced confession? Hah! That''s a new one," Kara murmured. "Can we name this operation?"


    "Why the hell do we have to name this operation?"


    "You know? Like Boss? He names stuff. He even named the operation when we saved Grant Hayes. So what do you guys think? I vote for Operation Strip & Snitch."


    "Can you not?" Amelia said, deadpan. "It''s already unhinged."


    Just then, a knock banged on the door. "Ey, ladies! Showtime! Let''s get moving!"


    Rachel tucked the plan back into her clutch and rose. She pulled on her mask again.


    "Showtime it is."


    One by one, the women donned their masks and adjusted their outfits. They moved as a unit now¡ª four dangerous, beautiful phantoms stepping into a lion''s den.


    The pimp stood waiting by a double-door laced in silver, nodding them forward.


    The music swelled.


    And the ladies in disguise headed for a particularly grand-looking door.

 Chapter 221: Operation Strip & Snitch

    On the other side of the door, lounged across a plush velvet couch was Tyler Mooney.


    The Prince of Los Alverez sat with a smug smile on his face like the royalty he was, expecting tribute.


    The room he occupied had a dim lighting. Oozing out of every corner and every wall was sleaze and privilege. What gave the room light was only the pulsating red and violet glow of low-hung ceiling bulbs.


    Coiling in the air was smoke from cigars and perfume candles. A crystal glass of cognac dangled lazily from his fingers.


    Tyler let out a sigh. ''Mhmm. Where taking them so long, eh?''


    He''d already unfastened his collar and loosened his tie, the arrogance of inherited power etched across his smug, half-lidded face.


    Clearly, he was accustomed to this place and to this very act. They way he made himself comfortable in the private suite.


    It was one made particularly for him. No one else ¡ª even other VIPs ¡ª were allowed to use it. The place was decked with leather chairs, a single pole in the center, a low glass table stacked with fruit, and surround sound speakers playing a sensual jazz mix.


    Tonight, the prince expected his court.


    The door clicked.


    ''Finally,'' he let out a relieved sigh and took a gulp of his drink. The door swung open slowly and he set the glass aside, leaning forward with eager anticipation.


    One by one, they stepped in. Four women. All masked. Their curves ¡ª full breasts, tight waists, and lush thighs ¡ª stirred a hungry edge in him. And they all came in like runaway sirens, though there was a subtle way they moved that showed that they were overall new to this.


    Exciting...


    The first, in a raven-black corset bikini with a gothic lace choker, had dark brown hair veiling one eye. Her icy allure made his blood race, a cold fire he wanted to tame.


    Next, a redhead in a blazing red outfit with heart-shaped glitter, twin pigtails bouncing, winked at him, her faux whip teasing his imagination. He smirked, craving her cheeky defiance.


    The third, a honey-bronzed brunette in deep violet, her oiled skin gleaming, flaunted endless legs in fishnets. Tyler''s gaze lingered, his pulse quickening at her toned perfection.


    Last, a caramel-skinned blonde with icy blue eyes, her white mesh-trimmed ensemble hugging her curves, looked nervous yet tempting. Her vulnerability sparked a primal urge in him.


    He licked his lips. "Well, damn, ladies. Let''s see what trouble we can stir up."


    They didn''t speak. They only swayed closer with their hips sashaying like they were uncertain of what rhythm to go with. More cautious than sultry.


    But Tyler was too entranced to notice, or maybe he did and the inexperience excited him even more.


    Rachel led the team, not that she particularly knew what she was doing. She glided toward the pole with as much grace as she could pretend to have, knowing she had never done this before.


    The other girls watched her and she gave Lila a fleeting nod.


    "Oh. How mysterious. Come now, the two of you." Tyler motioned to Rachel and Lila. "I don''t bite."


    As they approached him, Kara moved to pour Tyler another drink, noting that his attention was locked on them.


    She used the distraction wisely. Quickly and discreetly, her hand dropped the drug into the glass and she pretended to take a sip of it, licking the edge of the glass lustfully.


    That won a perverted smile from Tyler and he extended his hand and asked for the drink. "How nasty. Let me drink from it."


    She handed it to him with no fuss at all, just a knowing smile that appeared genuine to Tyler. He chuckled and clinked the glass against the table.


    "Oh, don''t be shy," he said, gesturing to Lila. "Come here, sweetheart."


    Lila hesitated. "Why don''t you take a drink first?" she asked. "We like to play a little dangerously."


    "Ooohhhh!" Tyler exclaimed. "So do I!"


    He took a sip.


    Then, his hand stretched towards Lila, trying to grope her.


    "You''ve got perfect skin, you know that? I might just have to keep you." He whispered while the other girls watched quietly.


    "Mm. I''m flattered," she said dryly, playing along.


    He took a sip. Then another.


    "You girls... Come on! You''re supposed to be dancing, rocking my world, yet you''re just stand¡ª standing... there."


    Rachel leaned towards her, her eyes glinting through her mask. "Come on. Take another sip," she whispered.


    "Well... Okay. If that''s what will get you lazy sluts working." He took a big sip. "You all should know who I am by now. Yeah, I''m Archibald Mooney''s son. But I also have my own things going for me."


    Rachel shot a glance at Kara, who glanced at Amelia, who glanced at Lila.


    It was already working.


    "I shouldn''t be saying this, but whatever. I''ve got half the state by the balls anyway." He leaned in, drunken breath thick with ego. "You ever heard of the Deloreon Group? I''ve got their CEO blackmailed with a little something from this very club."


    "Really?" Rachel whispered. "That''s so impressive. Tell us how you were able to do such a thing."


    "Ahh. You wanna know?" he belched. "I''ll tell you! I''ll tell you right now! This is how I did it..."


    He went on with details of how he forged documents and held back evidence. He explained to them that these secrets ¡ª if it got out ¡ª could land him in jail for years.


    "Which is why I''m trusting you girls, because you''re so... so... pretty. Pretty girls are harmless, aren''t they?"


    Rachel smiled.


    "How are you able to get so many pretty girls every week, Mister?"


    "Now, that''s a big secret. I can''t tell you that."


    "Why not take another sip?"


    "Oh. Okay. But please, dance after."


    "We will."


    "Okay. I''m telling you now. But no one can know, okay? You can''t tell a soul about AroTech. It''s not a real company. It''s a cover I made up with prostitutes on payroll. Imported. Illegal as hell. All under our roof, honey."


    His voice was slurring now. Rachel''s miniature button-cam caught every word, the red dot blinking silently against the inside of her bra strap.


    "Alright now. I''ve told you everything. Now come dance for me ladies..." He extended his hand to grab Lila''s breast. "Dance for m..."


    Then, like a puppet with cut strings, Tyler dropped into the couch, unconscious.


    They all stared at him.


    "Is he¡ª?" Amelia whispered.


    "Out cold," Kara confirmed, checking his pulse.


    Rachel exhaled. "Alright. Showtime."


    They reached behind their masks, removing them one by one. Then, with the time on their hands, they used it to secure the evidence. This was Sandy''s job as she created two copies and stored them in separate save folders while sending a third one to Rachel''s phone for the main act.


    Moments later, a groggy groan broke the silence. Tyler stirred up.


    He blinked, seeing the figures of the girls in front of him. "Ladies..." Suddenly, he paused, caught in disbelief.


    "Wha...?" His gaze sharpened. "You?!"


    Rachel sat with legs crossed, phone in hand. The screen displayed the blinking camera icon. "Good evening, Mr. Mooney. We thought a private meeting would be best."


    "You drugged me," he spat.


    "You groped her," Rachel said, gesturing to Lila. "I''d say we''re even."


    His face twisted. "How did you know about this place?"


    Rachel laughed. "Are you kidding? Everyone knows about this place. They don''t just know that you''re the one who owns it. That was difficult for us to figure out."


    Tyler''s terrified eyes scanned the girls one after the other. "You all work for Darren Steele. Did he put you up to this?!"


    Rachel got up, arms folded. "Nope."


    Tyler frowned. "What?"


    "Mr. Steele has nothing to do with this," Rachel clarified, then she leaned in, eyes blazing. "And if I was you, I would be much more terrified about that fact."

 Chapter 222: Under the Influence

    Tyler tried to pull himself from the sofa, stretching his hands towards her as the other lifted him. But the drug''s effect had not yet completely worn off and his hand lost his strength, snapping and causing him to fall back on the bed pitifully.


    Kara clicked her tongue and shook her head in a taunting manner. "That drug really got to him, didn''t it?"


    "Yeah, he looks out of it," Lila responded.


    Amelia lowered her head and snapped it in Kara''s direction. "How many doses did you put, Kara?"


    Kara raised an oblivious brow. "Doses? I just put a tablet."


    "A tablet?" Amelia''s eyes shot wide. "You''re supposed to put a pinch."


    Rachel turned to the two girls, then at Lila who glanced at her with a shrugging expression.


    "How am I supposed to put a pinch of a tablet?" Kara said, looking at the ceiling. "It''s a tablet."


    "You''re supposed to grind it first. One tablet is meant to sedate at least two people. It said it in the manual."


    Kara was silent for a while, mouth agape. "Oh."


    "No wonder he was asleep for so long."


    Tyler moved his gaze between the two of them, breathing hard. "How can you have such a casual conversation at this time! You girls drugged me and took advantage of me!"


    Rachel was disgusted. "Advantage of you? Way to get your hopes up."


    Tyler glared at her, panting hard, his eyes burning with anger. Then he glanced at the door.


    "Uh no. I wouldn''t think of that if I was you."


    Tyler turned back to her, then scanned the rest of the girls with his desperate eyes. "And what are you gonna do? Stop me?"


    He got up from the couch, clearly regaining his strength. "Pfft. I''d like to see you try."


    ¡ª''I shouldn''t be saying this, but whatever. I''ve got half the state by the balls anyway.''


    Tyler paused, shocked to his boots.


    ¡ª''You ever heard of the Deloreon Group? I''ve got their CEO blackmailed with a little something from this very club.''


    His eyes widened at the damning clip of him on the couch, spilling his very own secrets. "What the hell is this?"


    Rachel smiled. "Keep watching"


    ''And that''s how I did it. The judge had no idea, and all of it is hidden in an illegal bank that Ryan Anders himself helped me create. Ha ha! Poor guy. I''m going to miss him now he''s gone.''


    Tyler''s face drained of color.


    ¡ª''...no one can know, okay? You can''t tell a soul about AroTech. It''s not a real company. It''s a cover I made up with prostitutes on payroll. Imported. Illegal as hell. All under our roof, honey.''


    When the video ended, there was silence for a while. A terrifying while for Tyler as he felt his heartbeat pound faster and faster. How could this have happened? How could he let himself fall to such a... cheap trick?!


    His eyes found Rachel, quivering and scared. "I was under the influence."


    Her brows lifted comically.


    "All of that is worthless because I was under the influence."


    She giggled. "What do you think this is? A law court? I''m going to destroy your reputation, your life, your family." Her eyes darkened with venom. "Stop fucking around because I know you understand exactly what this means,"


    Tyler''s frown was full of disdain and at the same time, pure trepidation. You jezebel."


    "Oh we''re just getting started," Rachel snapped, her voice as cold as ice. "What is the worst case scenario for you here, Tyler Mooney? That footage goes out... and then you lose everything. Your career, your family''s business, your legal immunity. You know what your father would do to you when he finds out about even a sliver of this."


    Tyler''s eyes turned bloodshot with rage, fists clenching.


    "Living a double life to satisfy your lustful needs. How did you get involved in all of this so young, Tyler? Such... despicable things. Human trafficking, blackmail, illegal imports, documents you''ve forged to win court cases and escape lawsuits. How could you be so young and yet you already represent the worst of society?"


    Her gaze intensified and then she smirked. "Your father is going to disown you. That I''m sure about. So the question is, do you want to go the route of your worst case scenario? Or are you going to listen to what I want?"


    Tyler, even though still grimacing, pictured his father''s face, etched with disappointment, the heavy silence that would follow the inevitable pronouncement.


    Disownment. The word hung in the air, a death knell to his future, his identity. Even though he was a complete fuck up in every other way, Tyler, like every other son, saught his father''s approval.


    And with everything he knew could happen. Prison. Disgrace. Being disowned from the Mooney name ¡ª his entire identity, terrified him more.


    "What do you want?" he said through gritted teeth.


    "We want Trendteller approved. Now," Rachel said plainly. "And not just a passive approval. We want headliner support. Full strategic cooperation from Moon Enterprises for one fiscal year."


    "Pfft. You''re dreaming," he said.


    "And your nightmare is about to begin," Rachel snapped. "You either sign this, or you can start waving to your father from a prison window."


    Tyler looked at the phone in her hand, then tried to reach for it as fast as he could.


    Rachel stumbled backwards, but caught herself on time, swiping her hand away. "Nuh uh. Even if you did take this phone from me, don''t you think we would have backup? Think with your head, Tyler, even though I''m certain there''s nothing in it."


    Kara laughed, and a look from Amelia shut her up.


    "What?" she shrugged. "It''s funny."


    Looking at Tyler''s face of defeat, Rachel motioned to Kara. "Get me the contract, Kara."


    Kara pulled a folded paper from her bra, unfolded it and handed it to Rachel. "All ready."


    Lila and Amelia stared at her. "That''s where you put it?"


    Rachel then handed it to Tyler. "Sign it, Mr. Mooney. And we''ll be on our way. We''ll act like this never happened and we give you all the copies."


    Tyler glared at them. "Promise me Darren Steele will never get his hands on that video."


    Rachel scoffed. "You''re that scared of him huh? Alright then, we promised."


    Tyler hesitated, his hands shaking slightly. But in the end, he signed.


    The moment the ink dried, the girls stood to leave.


    Rachel flung the phone to him. "I was lying all along! That''s the only copy." She mimicked drying her forehead. "Phew. I don''t know what I would have done if you caught it back then."


    With his eyes wide, phone in his possession, Tyler roared like a mad man and lunged after them.


    The girls ran out of the door and bolted through the corridor.


    Tyler followed. "GET THEM!" he howled from his room''s door.


    Two guards stormed after the girls.


    "Run faster!" Kara yelled.


    The girls sprinted, heels in hand, underwear-clad bodies flashing past the stunned patrons. A high-pitched scream echoed from somewhere. Tyler stumbled after them in his half-buttoned shirt, red-faced and livid.


    A bulky man at the door¡ª bald, mustached, arms crossed¡ª watched them run past.


    "You! What are you doing? Stop them!" Tyler yelled at him.


    But surprisingly, the man peeled off his mustache.


    "''Fraid not." Then he sucker-punched both guards in the face, dropping them flat.


    Tyler froze. "What the hell?"


    The man turned and left the building with the girls. They reached the truck out back while the man jumped into the front.


    "Get in!"


    They piled in, panting, hearts pounding.


    Once they were gathered in the back, joining Sandy under the dim glow of the bus.


    Then Lila started giggling. "You were lying about the video on the phone being the only copy, right? Or did we forget to make copies?"


    Rachel leaned back in the seat, wiping sweat from her brow. Then smiled. "I was lying."


    They all exploded into amused laughter as the truck roared into the night.


    "Girls?"


    "Yeah?"


    "Let''s never do that again."

 Chapter 223: Think Like War Generals

    "I''ve made moves to try to reclaim the shares, but it''s going to be difficult. And Morrison, he''ll come again. He''ll likely use CivicComms to get the Department of Health to investigate your funding model. Or leak something through his media channels."


    Leonard shook his head. "Why''s he pushing so hard?"


    "He wants revenge, I think." Darren darkened his eyes. "For Ryan Anders."


    Leonard looked at Darren for a moment, smacked his lips and sighed. "Well, whatever you need from Holloway Medicals, it''s yours."


    Darren shook it. "It''s great that you say that, Mr. Holloway, because I do have somethings to ask of you."


    Leonard''s brow shot up. "Oh."


    The two men sat silent for a while. Unlike the rest of the hospital which smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender-scented air fresheners, Holloway''s office has a more buttery scent to it.


    Although now that event had been overtaken by the question of what exactly Darren was talking about when he said he had favors to ask of Leonard and Holloway Medicals.


    This odd pairing had come to define the Holloway Medical Executive Wing. Darren had shares in Leonard''s stocks and Leonard had shares in Darren''s.


    In fact, their partnership was the strongest amongst other of Darren''s allies, backed by the system which gave Leonard an Ally Rating of A++.


    Letting out an "are you ready?" sigh, Darren leaned back in the leather visitor''s chair, hands clasped together, his gaze fixed on the man across from him.


    Leonard Holloway, the second richest doctor in the state, but vastly becoming the most popular, waited with a resolute expression on his face. He pushed away his computer and gave Darren his complete attention.


    "So," Leonard rasped, voice low but clear, "are you not going to tell me what this favor is?"


    Darren shrugged. "Depends on how determined you are to take down Morrison for good."


    Leonard''s gaze drifted away in thought for a moment, then smacked his lips after he''d decided. "I won''t necessarily say I wish to take him down, despite all that has happened between us in the past, but... If I''m going to look at his face any day, I''d rather I''m looking down at him." His eyes darkened. "Not up."


    That almost made Darren smile.


    "Besides," Leonard continued, "He''s the one making the first move. He dipped in."


    Darren nodded. "He''s not just dipping in. He''s gutting your supply structure from the outside in. He''s leveraging your vendors, buying up secondary firms and supply chains, and rerouting contracts through shell fronts. If he continues, you''ll either lose control or be forced into a corner. Possibly both."


    "I know. I know. You''ve driven the nail to the head with that one, Darren my friend." Leonard exhaled through his nose, a low whistle. "Morrison is a bastard. He''s always had the subtlety of a scalpel."


    "No," Darren said coldly. "He''s worse. For him to seek vengeance over Ryan Anders means they were close, and only a manipulative son of a bitch would hang around with another manipulative son of a bitch."


    Leonard looked at him blankly. "You use such colorful words for a twenty-one year old."


    Darren ignored that. "He''s a surgeon, Mr. Holloway. Both literally and figuratively. A surgeon with no anesthesia. He''s precise. He''s cruel. And with the power he has, he''s basically immune to lawsuits. We need to think like war generals, not businessmen."


    Leonard tilted his head, eyes squinting at Darren. "I suppose this is when I hear of this favor?"


    Darren''s gaze stayed with him for a while before he looked away. "I need someone with your stand, Mr. Holloway. You must back me here."


    Leonard stayed motionless. Darren reached across and handed a laptop to him. "We have to map this out. Start with the vendors."


    From the looks of things, Darren had started doing that a long time ago. Leonard was impressed by the discipline of the work. On the screen, a page displayed a dynamic map of vendors, logistics firms, and contracts¡ª all color-coded.


    "You have been busy, Mr. Steele."


    "The only way I can stay on the top is if the ones pushing me down are the ones to fall."


    Holloway paused to look at his face. "Okay then. Your zeal has inspired me. Let''s take a look at this."


    Darren pointed at the screen.


    "The ones marked Red are compromised. The ones marked Yellow are at risk. And Blue: clean."


    Leonard''s eyes narrowed. "Half the bloody screen''s red."


    "And that''s what we know. Now, listen carefully. Here''s how we fight back."


    Darren outlined the first strike:


    1. Buybacks and Phantom Holdings They would discreetly reacquire the compromised vendors via third-party entities that bore no trace back to Holloway or Steele Investments. Darren had legal ghost firms pre-registered in Luxembourg, Dubai, and the Caymans, primed for proxy action.


    "We buy them back without him realizing it. Play dumb. Let him think he still owns the board."


    2. Asset Bleed They would funnel bad contracts and high-cost operations into Richard''s holdings. Essentially poisoning the well. Darren would reroute old legacy systems to Delta Health Tech, artificially inflate maintenance costs, and redirect insurances to companies that would delay reimbursements.


    "Let his profits bleed slowly. Bureaucracy can be a weapon too."


    3. Political Pressure and Soft Power Lobbying They''d leverage their allies in Calivernia''s Department of Public Health and CalSenate Business Commission to put a magnifying glass over Morrison''s sudden growth. Darren would have Rachel organize anonymous reports questioning monopoly practices and regulatory violations. Leonard still had a senator on his golf contact list.


    "Don''t play defense. Play whistleblower."


    4. Undermining Trust in the Medical Sphere "We need to start leaking murmurs. Discontent. Stories of mismanagement, improper billing, expired medicines, anything that sours public confidence. Use forums, patient advocacy groups, and nurse unions. You don''t fight a giant head-on. You give him a thousand cuts from beneath."


    Leonard grunted. "That''s damn dirty."


    "But you agree it will be effective," Darren said simply.


    "Yes. Yes. I agree."


    5. Strategic Mergers and Pseudo-Alliances They would reach out to health firms Richard had not yet acquired but had his eyes on. Offer better terms, limited-time partnership models, funding for expansion if they don''t sell. Darren had Amelia and Rachel preparing a slate of these targets already.


    Leonard looked impressed. "This''ll drain resources from him. He''ll have to adjust."


    Darren''s smile was sharp. "Exactly. And now... we light the match."


    He flicked his fingers and brought up a file labeled: Internal Reports - Morrison Hospitals.


    "Over the last three years," Darren explained, "these hospitals have received multiple flags in insurance records ¡ª anomalies, inconsistencies, and irregular audit trails."


    Leonard squinted. "Could be clerical errors."


    "Could be. But cross-check with whistleblower sites and health watchdog reports... and you start seeing a pattern. Misdiagnosis billing. Unregistered interns. False cancer therapies. Insurance fraud. You name it."


    Leonard''s jaw tightened. "That could shut him down if it''s made public."


    "It won''t be just public." Darren leaned forward, voice low. "It''ll be surgical. Right press channels, sympathetic lawmakers, class action lawyers already fed documents anonymously. All hitting in sync. We have to do it in a way that stops him from using his power over the press to fight back."


    He paused. "That''s the crucial part."


    Leonard nodded his head in agreement, taking it all in. "Alright, Darren. I''ve never seen a more strategic takedown like this in my life. And simply for the fact that I do not want to get on your wrong side... I''m in!"


    Darren scoffed.


    "So tell me, where do we begin?"


    For a moment, Darren was quiet as he thought. Then, a devilish smile appeared on his face. "I know exactly where to start."


    He stood and turned toward the panoramic window overlooking the city.


    "The hospital that treated me like filth when I had nothing. The one that denied me help because I didn''t look rich enough."


    His voice was steel.


    "For this phase, we''ll be going to a part of the city I haven''t been to in a long time."

 Chapter 224: Revenge Story

    At this time, Darren was still oblivious to what had happened with the girls and Tyler Mooney.


    However, after the meeting the next day, he was updated that their expansion application in the Bidding Gate had been approved


    That left Darren a little surprised. He was almost certain that Archibald would try something to hold him back. If not him, then his pain in the ass of a sun.


    However, this was good news as Trendteller could finally begin sales in the most lucrative of places over the world.


    On the Bitcoin side, which was desperately what Darren wanted to return to, things were doing extremely well. But Darren knew he had only a few years left until Bitcoin became mainstream.


    He had to find a way to resolve these business politics and return to the simplicity of mining, buying and selling the exciting digital currency.


    Meanwhile, today was a rainy day.


    The drops of rain tapped lightly against the windowpane of Holloway Medicals'' 8th floor. Inside the suite, the air was sterile, quiet, and heavy with the faint scent of honey and hibiscus perfume.


    A computer beeped rhythmically. Leonard Holloway sat against his tall seat, wrapped in an expensive suit and a doctor''s coat. He was reading the newspapers, enjoying the Business Section while rocking his head gently.


    Click.


    He looked up as the door opened and Darren Steele stepped in, trench coat soaked and eyes burning with a quiet, measured fire.


    "You''re late," Leonard said, managing a faint smile, dropping the newspaper.


    Darren pulled out a chair and sat. "Traffic. And war planning."


    Leonard gave a dry chuckle. "You don''t joke much. So I assume we''re past diplomacy?"


    Darren leaned forward, eyes hard. "I''ve finished drafting everything, Leonard. Are you ready to go through it with me?"


    Leonard chuckled again. Short. "Am I ready?It''s the only damn thing I thought about last night. Don''t go all soft on me now, Darren Steele. Hit me with the plan."


    Darren smirked approvingly. "Morrison made his move. Now we make ours."


    "We''re going to visit his boys in the health insurance first of all."


    ------------


    Vroom!


    In the dark corner of the night, small rain drizzled from the sky, a black SUV drove into a location and parked.


    It was an underground parking garage.


    The black SUV idled in the corner. Inside, Darren and Amelia sat. Darren peered at the building with binoculars while Amelia scribbled down on her notepad, the details of the events.


    "Let''s go," he told her.


    Soon, they both stood across from a health insurance executive, a heavyset man nervously wiping his brow.


    Darren placed a folder on his lap. "Your company has been redirecting patients with sub-par insurance to a network of Morrison''s hospitals. You''re violating federal insurance policy and profiting off rerouted suffering."


    The man stammered. "How did you¡ª"


    Darren raised a finger. "Don''t ask how. What you should be worried about is what happens next."


    He slid a USB drive across the seat. "Sign the termination clause and leak the rerouting policy to HealthWatchers. In return, we''ll protect your pension and let your firm absorb the blow quietly. Refuse, and this goes to every state regulator."


    The man stared. Swallowed. Then picked up the pen.


    -------------


    "Solid plan. Solid plan." Leonard nodded his head. Then he raised a brow. "Though I am surprised that you''re starting with... insurance?"


    "Starting explosively might trigger Morrison to react in time. He''s an alert man, that I can tell. The insurance fraud is just the appetizer," Darren opened his laptop. He tapped, and an informative screen sprang to life, pulling data, graphs, and movement charts.


    "Richard owns thirteen major hospitals directly in this state alone."


    "I know that."


    "But the real heart of his corruption lives in a web of auxiliary vendors ¡ª pharmaceuticals, equipment logistics, insurance reroutes."


    Leonard sat forward, eyes narrow.


    "We cut the blood flow," Darren continued. "Crash patient traffic. Expose the overbilling schemes. Turn regulators and public opinion into bullets."


    "Gosh, Richard. All of this because you dared come after our shares."


    ---------


    In a small modest suburban home, cameras and lights were rolling for a family interview.


    This wasn''t any familiar interview, it was one for a woman who had been charged over $40,000 for a hospital bill in one of Morrison''s hospitals.


    The interview continued, led by the beautiful Brooklyn Baker herself. The tearful woman held up a hospital bill ¡ª $46,000 for an overnight stay with no surgery, no ICU, no critical care.


    Behind the scenes, Rachel gave a nod to Brooklyn and the health journalist beside her. Another leak scheduled.


    ----------


    "Because of Richard''s power in the media, releasing the leaks will be tricky. But we have six testimonies recorded," Darren said. "Each from families overcharged before surgery."


    Leonard blinked. "You got all this in what, three days?"


    Darren smirked. "I had motivation."


    He paused, then added, "One of the hospitals overbilled my mother. I''ve seen it from the dirt. Now I''m taking them apart from the top."


    Leonard pouted and shrugged. "Everyone loves a revenge story."


    "What happens next?"


    -----------


    In the corporate boardroom of Morrison''s? Real Estate Group, a young board member adjusted his tie as he read a resignation letter.


    His laptop pinged and an anonymous email appeared. When he opened it, he saw evidence of bribes linking Morrison to illegal rezoning deals.


    Across the city, a silent shareholder bid had been placed. Darren''s shell firm, under a ghost name, acquired 8.2% stake by nightfall.


    ---------


    Leonard chuckled. "Oh that is surgical."


    "Is it?" Darren said. "I like to think that I can be a scalpel coated in poison. Once I make the cut, infection spreads."


    "Doctor puns? Look at you. I never thought we would reach this point, Mr. Indifferent."


    Darren moved to the next phase. A new name popped up, a branch of Morrison''s hospitals. The notoriously under-reviewed branch which was completely catered to the elites.


    Leonard frowned. "Isn''t that the place...?"


    Darren nodded. "Where I was humiliated. Where my mother was insulted. Where they made me kneel."


    His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. "I''m going to start there."


    ---


    At the Morrison''s Hospital Branch, it was nighttime. Cleaners were moping the halls. Helen, the nurse from before, chatted smugly with a friend.


    The door opened and someone stepped in.


    The man ¡ª in a thunderous black suit ¡ª walked towards her as she bid her friend goodbye and turned to give him her attention.


    "Hello there, sir! Welcome to Morrison''s Hospitals. How can I help you tod¡ª"


    Her eyes widened. "It''s... y¡ª you..."


    ---------


    Darren stood up, coat swaying.


    "Doing it to their face?" Leonard said. "This really is personal for you. Not that I don''t understand."


    Darren didn''t reply to that.


    "By the time this is over," he said, turning to Leonard, "Richard Morrison will be under federal review, half his holdings frozen, and every board member too scared to say his name in public."


    Leonard reached out, clasped his forearm. "Let''s go get him."

 Chapter 225: The New Administration

    It was a quiet afternoon in Morrison''s Hospital, Macaulay Branch ¡ª the kind of lull that comes right before visiting hours. The usual hum of voices was low, the corridors mildly echoing with footsteps and intercom buzzes.


    Nurse Helen stood near the reception desk, reading a file of patients and the medicine she was to hand to them at departure. Her eyes were half-lidded with boredom, barely registering the world around her.


    Then the automatic glass doors slid open.


    She glanced up, and her hands suddenly froze. The file fell from her grasp and time seemed to stutter.


    A man she thought she recognized walked into the lobby like a phantom from another life. Tall, composed, draped in a tailored dark coat over a steel-gray shirt, and eyes so unreadable they might''ve been carved from obsidian. His shoes didn''t squeak. His steps didn''t rush. He moved as if the entire hospital was his, and somehow, it felt true.


    "Hello there, sir! Welcome to Morrison''s Hospitals. How can I help you tod¡ª"


    He walked closer and she finally saw the resemblance in his face. The same color of eyes, poise of lips as that boy had all those months ago.


    Her eyes widened. "It''s... y¡ª you..."


    She flinched.


    "It really is you," she stuttered, trying to gather herself, summoning that same patronizing voice she used months ago ¡ª only now, it shook. "I... I saw you on the news ¡ª wha... what are you doing here?"


    Darren didn''t respond immediately. Instead, he let his gaze wander across the room ¡ª the same walls he''d once leaned against in despair, the same tiled floor where his knees had scraped as he bowed and begged. His expression didn''t change, but the air thickened around him.


    "I came to see how the hospital was doing," he said flatly. "After the change in ownership."


    Helen blinked. "Ownership?"


    He began walking again. This time, toward the doctors'' area. Her instinct was to stay out of his way, but pride led her to chase after him.


    "Hey, hey! Not this again. Where do you think you''re going?!" Her heels clicked as she hurried after him. "Look, if you''re here to cause trouble, I suggest you rethink¡ª"


    "Trouble?" he said, tone dangerously calm as he looked over his shoulder. "Is that how you remember it?"


    "I didn''t mean¡ª"


    "No. I''m sure you didn''t," he said, continuing forward.


    Nurse Helen''s voice cracked. "Wait, what do you mean ''change in ownership''?"


    Just then, a man in a pressed navy suit approached Darren, holding a leather folder.


    "Authorization papers," he said, opening the folder. "Filed and confirmed by the State Health Regulatory Board. This branch of Morrison''s Hospitals is now under the executive holding company Steele Health, a registered private subsidiary of Steele Investments."


    He handed the sealed document to Darren, who took with him as he continued forward.


    Helen stared. Then followed after Darren, horror slowly dawning.


    "No... that can''t be. You¡ª you bought the hospital?"


    Darren turned, gaze hard. "I bought the branch, the building, the patents, the equipment contracts, and the debt portfolio your former management left behind. I bought everything."


    Helen gasped.


    "No, that''s impossible!" She said, eyes wide. "You were just¡ª"


    "If you''ve seen me in the news as you said, then you should know this isn''t at all impossible," Darren said. "You''re my property now, Nurse Helen."


    With terrified eyes, Helen''s lips quivered.


    Darren leaned in slightly, whispering to her. "Do you remember when you made me kneel, right on this ground. I can still hear the echoes of your laughter, and you can too if you listen hard enough."


    She turned pale.


    "I remember," Darren whispered. "I remember every damn second."


    Then came the voice behind them.


    "What''s the disturbance here? Helen? What''s going on? Who''s this ma¡ª?"


    Doctor Gerald, the man with the practiced authority of someone used to control, approached. His shoes clicked against the tile as he spotted Darren.


    Recognition hit him a beat later.


    "You."


    "Me," Darren confirmed. "Still alive. And, inconveniently for you, in possession of this entire establishment."


    The man in the suit stepped forward again, referring to Gerald. "Sir, as outlined in the acquisition agreement, you no longer retain practicing privileges at this institution. Your employment is effectively terminated."


    "What?" Gerald barked, then he chuckled. "This is... absurd! I mean you can''t be serious. I demand to see legal documentation¡ª"


    "You''ll get your copy in the mail," Darren said. "For now, you''re being escorted off the premises."


    "Security!" Gerald shouted, but it wasn''t the same commanding voice he used to carry. This one cracked.


    Two uniformed security guards entered the lobby from the side hallway. "Take this lost young man out of the hospital''s premises this instant!"


    The guards remained still.


    Gerald frowned, his eyes started to quiver. Even Helen looked worried.


    "Didn''t you hear me?!" Gerald snapped.


    "Oh. They heard you alright?" Darren said, one hand in his pocket. "Now let''s see who they listen to."


    Silence. Thick and heavy.


    Gerald stared at Darren, and then at the guards. Helen''s heart pounded.


    "Take him away," Darren uttered.


    Instantly, the men began to march toward Gerald, whose eyes widened as Helen gasped.


    "You can''t do this," Gerald snapped, backing up. "I''ve been here for fifteen years. You think some money lets you¡ª"


    Darren stepped forward. "Money lets me end people like you legally."


    Gerald clenched his fists. "You''re nothing but a kid with a vendetta."


    "No," Darren said softly. "I was a kid. Now, I''m the man writing your severance."


    He narrowed his eyes, speaking to the guards. "Remove him."


    "No! How dare you ridicule me this way! I''m Dr. Gerald Martins! I''m one of the best doctors in this entire state! You can''t do this to me."


    The guards grabbed him and began to pull him out of the building, his feet dragging on the hospital tiles.


    Darren stood tall, watching him being dragged away. "And don''t think this is the end of it, Dr. Gerald Martins. Because of all you''ve been doing here, you have been suspended for investigation, reported to the Medical Ethics Board for overcharging and manipulation of vulnerable patients. And you''ve been blacklisted across private hospital networks via my allies."


    "Hell would freeze over before you ever work again as a medical practitioner."


    Helen stood paralyzed, watching the doctor get dragged away.


    Then Darren turned back to her.


    "I haven''t forgotten you."


    She jolted. Then nervously stepped forward with fake politeness. "Mr. Steele...! I mean, Darren. I didn''t know you''d be¡ª"


    "Shut up," Darren ordered coldly. "Your voice still annoys me."


    Helen fell silent for a while, then, all of a sudden, she exploded into tears and latched onto his hand. "Please! Please! I''m so sorry! I was wrong! I was so wrong! Please, I''m not the same person I was in the past! I didn''t mean to treat you so awfully."


    Darren looked down at her with disgust. Then, with a gentle voice, he said; "It''s okay. I understand."


    Helen paused. "Hmm?" She dried the tears in her eyes and glanced up at him. "You''ll forgive me?"


    "Yes," he replied. "I''ll be generous."


    Helen smiled instantly. The tears were all gone. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"


    Darren''s face remained expressionless. "You''re fired," he said. "Effective immediately."


    Helen''s smile vanished. "What?"


    "Meet the door."


    "No! No! Wait, Darren please! I didn''t know, I just followed orders¡ª"


    She sank to her knees instinctively. "Please, just give me one more chance!"


    "Oh, you''ll have your chance." Darren replied. "Right now, your medical license has been revoked, alongside some others in this hospital. But in your case, I''ve blacklisted you from mainstream hospitals."


    Helen stared at him, shocked and terrified. "How?! How can you be so heartless!!!"


    "Don''t worry. I''ve prepared a new job for you at the cleaning agency we just outsourced. They need night-shift janitors."


    "That should be easy for someone who''s used to looking down on people. Now you''ll just have to look down to clean their shit."


    The crowd gasped and murmurs erupted.


    Helen broke down, screaming with all the air in her lungs. "You bastard!"


    Darren half-chuckled, amused by her words. "Bastard? You made me kiss your shoes. I''d say I''m being generous."


    He waved to the guards again.


    As she was being escorted out, Darren raised his voice to the gathered onlookers, staff and nurses who had paused to witness the scene.


    "Let this be your welcome to the new administration of this hospital. Where dignity is mandatory. And discrimination gets you thrown out faster than an expired drug."


    He adjusted his cuff. "The purge is just beginning. Every single one of you who was corrupt is going to be jobless by the end of the day."


    Then, without another word, he turned away from the lobby and headed to the office of the head doctor.


    That motherfucker was getting fired as well.


    ---------


    "So you did it then?" Leonard asked, reclining slightly on his chair. "You bought Morrison''s Hospital Branch? That''s practically impossible. Richard Morrison doesn''t sell. Ever."


    Darren''s lips curled faintly. He took a slow step, drawing the blinds closed behind him. "Well I didn''t give much of a choice, did I?"


    Leonard watched closely as Darren sat, folded his hands, and began.


    "The first thing I needed was silence. No boardroom shakeups, no PR war. I wanted to get ownership... but I wanted to be invisible as well, until I wasn''t."


    In a shadowed office high above the city, Rachel sat across from a broker, stacks of acquisition contracts before her. One document after another slid across the table¡ª each representing a 0.7%, 1.1%, 3.5% stake in a string of hospital-adjacent firms.


    Some were shell holding entities, others silent minority partners. The names didn''t say "Morrison" outright. But they all fed into a parent trust that owned 42% of the branch.


    "Rachel traced the ownership web to a holding trust called Aegis Blue. Morrison''s name wasn''t listed, but undeniably, it was his engine."


    "Soon, I owned over 45% of the hospital, and Morrison had no clue."


    Leonard stared, impressed. "Still not enough to own it. You''d need fifty-one."


    Darren smiled faintly.


    "After I submitted my evidence against the Holloway branch for fraud, they were placed under review."


    "Leonard tried to reclaim it, but it was too late. That week, four major silent investors pulled out. My shells bought all four."


    "Then... with a final bid, I secured the remaining 9.2%, tipping me past the threshold."


    Leonard exhaled. "You used fraud to take the hospital?"


    "I exposed fraud," Darren corrected. "They committed it. I used it."


    There was silence for a beat.


    "And Morrison?" Leonard asked.


    "He signed a non-disclosure and retirement agreement three days ago. Keeps his other branches. But the Macaulay one? That''s mine now."


    "What are you going to do with it?"


    Darren turned to him. "Nothing. I''m giving it to you."


    "What?"


    "Morrison will lose sleep knowing that a hospital branch that was once his is now yours. So... Take it, I''ll reduce my shares to 35%, selling the rest to you."


    Holloway blinked, not believing what he had just heard. "You just bought a billion dollar hospital and you''re handing it over to me?"


    Darren smiled. "We''re allies. Would be weird if I started competing with you."


    Holloway sighed, raising his brows. "Yeah, it would, wouldn''t it? Heck, kid. Not a day goes by that you fail to blow my mind."

 Chapter 226: Off Limits

    "EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU ARE PAID HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS JUST SO THAT THINGS LIKE THIS NEVER HAPPEN!"


    Thunder seemed to be roaring from a particular building in the busy city of Los Alverez.


    It came from the meeting room on the thirty-seventh floor of Morrison Tower where tension was pulsing. The ceiling lights, pristine and bright, illuminated the polished room where Richard Morrison stood, fists clenched, jaw locked.


    Around him, his legal team and senior board members exchanged nervous glances. Laptops open, papers in hand, but no one dared speak.


    Richard''s face was as red as a balloon.


    "SO TELL ME HOW?!" he roared, slamming his palm against the table. The sound echoed across the massive conference room. "How did a twenty-one-year-old brat get the jump on us? That branch was protected! We had full control!"


    "Sir, please¡ª"


    "Don''t ''sir'' me, Kepler! You''re my Head of Legal Affairs and you''re telling me we didn''t see this coming? That we couldn''t block it?!"


    He pranced around, thinking to himself, muttering out loud. "A building that I made myself from nothing. It is now owned by a Bitcoin enthusiast! Do you know how disgraceful that is to my reputation?!"


    Kepler pushed up his glasses, sweating despite the air conditioning. "We really tried our best, sir."


    "Tried your best! If your best means my branches get overrun by a boy in a suit then your best is absolutely worthless!"


    "The acquisition was done through a debt buyout, sir. Whistleblower filings were used as a cover. Initiated regulatory audits against the branch using detailed documentation ¡ª mostly tied to billing irregularities, supplied staff abuse records, and health violations under the tenures of nurses like Helen Gresby."


    "Which you all assured me were dealt with internally," Richard seethed.


    "Yes, but he timed it perfectly. While the audit was underway, he leveraged shell trusts to approach a network of minority shareholders. We confirmed at least seven purchases ¡ª all through layered LLCs and offshore proxies."


    "You mean to tell me we got ambushed in our own fucking house and none of you spotted it?" He paced around the room like a caged lion.


    "Sir, even the holding company used to mask the shell firms was a registered religious medical relief trust. We never had eyes on it."


    Richard stared, veins pulsing. "And now he''s the majority holder?"


    "Yes... 52.4%. We only confirmed the consolidation late last night. The transaction logs were obscured until the final name was updated on the registry ¡ª his."


    Someone else whispered, "He even filed the asset security transfer with the Department of Health before we could respond..."


    "Why was I not informed the moment his name appeared?"


    "Because, sir," another lawyer said cautiously, "he delayed announcing it publicly and filed it under a dormant trustee clause that only notifies the old board after a seven-day period. It''s... it''s legal."


    Silence.


    Richard clenched his jaw, eyes twitching with fury. ''That clever bastard. He thought of everything.''


    "The only thing we can do is file an appeal with the Ethics Acquisition Board and hope to overturn the sale under technicality."


    "Appeal?" Richard''s voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "We''re Morrison''s?. We don''t appeal. We annihilate."


    He turned his back to them, fists clenched behind him.


    But before he could explode again, a knock at the door. One of his aides rushed in, face pale.


    "Sir... Archibald Mooney is here."


    That got everyone''s attention. The color drained from Richard''s own face.


    He stood, smoothing his suit with a trembling hand. "Everyone," he muttered hoarsely. "Return to your offices. Now."


    They didn''t need to be told twice. The board cleared out with a rush of tapping shoes and whispered curses.


    Alone, Richard walked into his private office, grunting as he passed the ornate gold trim of the doorframe. "Damn man thinks he''s God," he muttered under his breath.


    He sat down behind his desk, pretending to scroll through financial projections.


    Down the hall, the floor was silent. Secretaries pretended to type, eyes on their screens as Archibald Mooney walked through, dressed immaculately in a pale grey three-piece suit, his hair slicked back, silver tie bar gleaming. A single bodyguard flanked him, silent as death.


    They stopped at Richard''s door. Archibald gestured. "Wait here."


    He knocked.


    "Come in," Richard said, lifting his head.


    The door opened.


    Archibald stepped inside, with regal gait and movement. His eyes drifted to the large abstract painting mounted above Richard''s cabinet.


    "Still collecting overpriced art, I see," he mused, stepping in.


    Richard stood, smiling tightly. "Archibald. To what do I owe the pleasure?"


    Archibald walked slowly around the office, fingertips grazing a crystal decanter set, then a framed certificate.


    "Things seem... very calm here," he said with a half-smirk. "Unusually calm, wouldn''t you say?"


    Richard shrugged, trying to sound casual. "It''s Monday. You know how it is ¡ª start of the week. Everyone''s buried in paperwork."


    Archibald turned to face him. "Any problems you''d like to tell me about?"


    "None come to mind," Richard replied, smiling stiffly.


    Archibald nodded slowly. Then his eyes narrowed. "You lost the Macaulay Street branch. I heard it changed ownership. Darren Steele now holds the deed. You know, when I was told that, I laughed. I mean... I couldn''t believe it. That hospital was built by you, owned by you. And yet... a child has it now."


    Richard chuckled nervously. "Ah, yes. That. Well, I had been thinking about selling it for some time. Liquidating a few assets, you understand. We sold it off through a series of equity deals ¡ª perfectly normal."


    Archibald laughed once. A bitter sound.


    "Tell me something... Richard..."


    "...Do I look like a man born yesterday? Selling the Macaulay Branch? One of your most profitable arms? To a boy who annihilated your friend, leading to the ruination of many businesses in the state, to which he also took profit?" He took a step forward. "Richard. Your pettiness may not be your best trait, but it''s certainly your loudest."


    Richard''s shoulders sagged.


    Archibald''s voice dropped an octave. "Now tell me. What really happened? What... did you do?"


    Richard sighed, defeated. "I went after Darren''s shares in Holloway Medicals. Quietly. Through shell firms. Offshore proxy buys. Thought I could pressure him, take control before he noticed."


    Archibald raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. He noticed."


    "Yes. Somehow. Despite every precaution, he traced the moves. He warned Holloway before we could secure majority control. Then he struck back ¡ª hard. Leveraged liens. Used the same strategy but better. Brought the law and ethics board into it. Pulled strings I didn''t even know he had."


    Archibald looked at his friend with resignation. "Why do you people always make moves behind my back?"


    "I didn''t think I needed permission to attack a rival."


    "Spare me the nonsense, Richie," Archibald growled. "I spoke to my son. You think Tyler can keep secrets from me? I own that boy. Like a dog on an invisible leash. You asked him to block Trendteller''s expansion filing. Yet somehow, that asset has now been approved and ready for export to China, Dubai, Nigeria, and the EU."


    Richard''s eyes widened. "What?"


    Archibald leaned in, eyes like blades.


    "Now let me make this clear. That boy? Darren Steele is off-limits."


    Richard frowned. "What?"


    "I do not want anyone attacking him or his business, attempting anything funny, interfering with his personal life and his allies. He''s protected by me. He''s my project. And anyone who tries anything against him is testing my patience."


    Richard stood stunned. "You''re protecting that kid? Why?!"


    Archibald bellowed, "Because he''s a kid, you idiot! And you''re a grown man. The fact that that boy can stand up to people like us shows that he''s not an ordinary person who made it here by mistake! This is not luck. This is not accident. He is something else completely."


    Silence.


    Archibald took a deep breath and straightened. "I''ve spoken to my son and his stupid friends, Singh and the one whose company is on the fall, Jaxon. Everyone should stand down and leave Darren Steele alone."


    "And, Richie, everyone includes... You."


    A heavy silence followed.


    "Am I understood?"


    Richard lowered his eyes. "Yes. Yes, you are."