Chapter 10
Z
9:29 AM EST. Wall Street, New York.
The trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange was a boiling cauldron of noise, shouts, and flashing green-and-red digital tickers.
High above the trading floor, inside a private executive suite overlooking the floor, Dominic Vance stood behind glass, sipping a glass of rare scotch. Beside him stood his lead financial strategist, monitoring four screens displaying real-time order depth for Aurelia Systems (NASDAQ: AURA).
“Everything is in position, Mr. Vance,” the strategist said, his fingers hovering over the execution key. “Six million shares loaded into the Chicago dark pool queue. The moment the bell rings, we trigger the dump. AURA will collapse from forty-five dollars to twelve dollars within ten minutes.”
Dominic smiled—a cold, arrogant expression that mirrored his son’s, but possessed none of its weakness. “My idiot son failed because he was soft, emotional, and sloppy. He let a decorative woman take his shoes. Today, we show Audrey Vance how real men do business.”
DING! DING! DING!
The opening bell rang, echoing across the massive trading floor below.
“Execute,” Dominic ordered softly.
On the screens, a massive wave of red numbers flooded the order books. Six million shares of Aurelia Systems were dumped into the market simultaneously.
Dominic leaned forward, expecting to see the price chart drop like a stone into an abyss.
Instead, something mathematically impossible happened.
The stock price didn't drop a single cent. It flickered at $45.00 for two seconds, then jumped to $45.50... then $47.00... then $50.00.
“What’s happening?” Dominic snapped, setting his scotch glass down hard. “Why isn't the price collapsing? Who is taking the liquidity?”
The strategist’s face turned completely white, his hands trembling over the keyboard. “Sir... someone is absorbing the entire sell order! Every single share we put on the market is being bought instantaneously by a high-frequency algorithm!”
“Who is buying?” Dominic roared, slamming his fist onto the desk. “Find out who!”
Before the strategist could answer, every television monitor in the executive suite, on the trading floor, and across financial news networks around the world flashed a bright blue banner:
BREAKING NEWS: AURELIA SYSTEMS ANNOUNCES $5 BILLION EXCLUSIVE QUANTUM COMPUTING CONTRACT WITH U.S. DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE.
“No...” Dominic gasped, taking a step back, his eyes wide with horror. “No, no, no!”
On the trading screens, Aurelia’s stock price erupted.
$60.00... $85.00... $120.00... $180.00... $250.00!
The volume spiked into tens of millions of shares. Trading was halted twice by automatic circuit breakers, but every time it reopened, the stock shot higher like a rocket hitting orbit.
The strategist’s phone rang—a harsh, shrill sound that sliced through the room. He answered it, listened for three seconds, and dropped the receiver onto the desk.
“That was the Chicago Clearing House,” the strategist whispered, his voice shaking uncontrollably. “Our margin call has been triggered. Because AURA is now trading at $280 per share, our short liability is currently three point two billion dollars. We have thirty minutes to deposit two billion in cash collateral, or they will liquidate Vanguard’s master corporate accounts.”
Dominic collapsed into his leather chair, the color completely drained from his face. He was trapped. To cover the short position, he would have to sell every asset, every property, every holding Vanguard owned—and even then, it wouldn't be enough. He was bankrupt. Completely, irretrievably ruined.
His personal cell phone buzzed on the glass table.
Dominic picked it up with a trembling hand, pressing it to his ear without speaking.
“Hello, Dominic,” my voice came through the speaker, as calm and clear as a winter morning in Zurich.
Dominic’s breathing was ragged. “Audrey... how... where did you get that kind of capital?”
“I have my mother’s resources, Dominic,” I said softly. “And unlike your son, I don't waste time making speeches in ballrooms. I execute.”
Dominic swallowed hard, his voice breaking into a dry rasp. “You... you set a trap for me.”
“Your son tried to steal my future,” I said, my tone turning into absolute iron. “You tried to steal my mother’s legacy. Did you really think I wouldn't crush you both?”
Beside me in the Zurich war room, Eleanor stepped up to the speakerphone.
“Dominic,” Eleanor said, her voice dropping into the line like a velvet guillotine. “It’s been a long time.”
Dominic gasped, his phone almost slipping from his hand. “Eleanor? You’re... you’re dead!”
“I was dead to my enemies, Dominic,” Eleanor replied coldly. “Now I’m just the woman who’s buying Vanguard’s liquidated assets at a ninety percent discount on the courthouse steps this afternoon.”
Silence hung over the line—a terrible, final silence.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Dominic,” I said softly. “The federal marshals should be entering your building in about two minutes.”
I ended the call.
I walked over to the grand floor-to-ceiling window of the Zurich vault, looking out over the mountains as the morning sun broke through the clouds, reflecting brilliant gold off the snow-capped peaks.
Marcus walked up behind us, holding two glasses of champagne. He handed one to Eleanor and one to me.
“To Northstar,” Marcus said, raising his glass.
Eleanor looked at me, raising her glass with a look of deep, unquestioned pride in her eyes. “To the new Chairman of Northstar Holdings: Audrey Vance.”
I clinked my glass against theirs. The crystal rang out with a clear, sharp tone that echoed through the room—a sound of power, victory, and total triumph.
I took a slow sip of the sparkling wine, looking out at the endless horizon before me.
May you like
The woman who had stumbler into a champagne table six months ago was gone forever.
And the world would never forget my name.
