novelraw Chapter 90: Reverse Anchor
Chapter 90: Reverse Anchor
Check Chapter 7, 9, 23, 24 for FLASHBACKS of Jake’s past
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The soft click of the elevator doors closing behind Catharine signaled the end of Jake’s morning reprieve. He stood in the foyer for a moment, the taste of sourdough and expensive coffee still lingering, before turning toward the heavy oak doors of his study.
Inside, the room was cool and dim. The only light came from the six-monitor array that hummed with a low, electronic heat. He sat in the ergonomic chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and woke the screens with a sharp tap on the spacebar.
He didn’t just need the money for the sake of luxury anymore. He needed the war chest to be bottomless. Between the specialists for Aliya and the impending legal blitz against Sterling and the Livingstons, he needed to be able to outspend everyone in the Republic.
He pulled up the XAU/USD chart, the gold market flickering in 15-minute intervals. The candles were tight—a stagnant consolidation range that would have bored any other trader to sleep.
Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the mahogany desk and lacing his fingers together. He centered his breathing, pushing the image of Alex’s emergency contact number out of his mind, and focused entirely on the flickering green and red bars.
The hum started almost instantly. It was a low-frequency vibration at the base of his skull that bled into his vision. The flat, two-dimensional grid began to warp, and a vibrant, translucent amber line started to weave its way through the empty space to the right of the current price.
It wasn’t a guess; it was a physical manifestation of where the money was going.
The golden line dipped sharply before a vertical, violent spike that looked like it wanted to tear through the top of the monitor. Jake didn’t hesitate. He moved his cursor with predatory precision, opening the order window for his institutional sub-account.
He dialed in a position of five thousand lots—a move so massive it would have flagged every risk-management sensor in a traditional bank. He hit ’Buy’ at $2,341.10.
For the first ten minutes, the market moved against him. The price slipped to $2,339.80, and his unrealized P&L flashed a deep, bleeding red. It showed a loss of over six million marks.
A normal man would have felt the sweat on his palms or the urge to close the trade and save what was left. Jake just watched the golden line in his vision. It remained rock-steady and aimed at the ceiling. He knew the "whales" were just clearing out the weak hands before the real move.
Then, the break happened.
A headline flashed on the news ticker regarding central bank reserve increases. The gold chart went parabolic. A single green candle obliterated the resistance levels, surging through $2,350 and $2,360 without a pause.
Jake’s eyes were fixed on the amber trajectory, watching for the exact moment the glow began to dim. As the price hit $2,364.80, the line in his vision started to plateau and curl downward.
He smashed the ’Close All’ button.
The screen flickered as the trades settled. The red numbers vanished, replaced by a staggering green total: +9,500,000VM.
He leaned back, the golden hum receding into a dull throb behind his eyes. He had been at the desk for exactly fifty-eight minutes. Nine million marks in an hour, and all he felt was the cold weight of the next task.
Jake stood up, his joints popping as he stretched his stiff muscles, the adrenaline from the gold trade finally beginning to ebb. He picked up his phone from the mahogany desk and tapped Alice’s name on his contact list. She picked up on the second ring.
"I saw the notification," Jake said, his voice dropping into a low, executive tone. "Is the consult with Dr. Chen Wei confirmed?"
"Confirmed for 15:00 this afternoon, Jake," Alice replied, the sound of her typing audible in the background. "He’s difficult to pin down, but once I mentioned the ’unlimited’ nature of the budget and the specific complexities of the case, he cleared his schedule. He’ll be joining us via a secure video link from Beijing."
"Good. Have the files I pulled from the Rosewood Retreat’s server ready for him. I want him to see the intake vitals before he even speaks to us."
"Already done," Alice said. "I’ve also scrubbed any mention of your family name from the preliminary charts. As far as he knows, he’s consulting for an anonymous high-net-worth client."
Jake walked toward the window, looking out over the sprawling skyline of Aurelia. The city was moving, oblivious to the storm he was brewing.
"Perfect. Whatever he needs—specialized equipment, a private transport, a dedicated ward—the answer is yes. Money is not an obstacle."
"I understand," Alice noted dryly. "I’ll send you the meeting link ten minutes before we go live."
"I’ll be ready."
Jake ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk. The medical side was finally moving. The financial side was settled. Now, all that was left was to ensure the person responsible for the mess didn’t have a future to look forward to.
He headed for the shower, the steam filling the bathroom as he prepared to transition back into the suit and tie. The market had given him the fuel he needed, and now it was time to drive the blade home.
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After the shower, Jake picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over Aliya’s name. After the cold, calculated intensity of the morning trade, he needed to hear her voice—a reminder of why he was stacking these millions. She picked up on the second ring, her voice sounding lighter and more vibrant than it had in weeks.
"Hey Jake," she said, and he could practically hear the grin through the line. "I hope you’ve been practicing your ’gracious loser’ face, because I just checked the student portal. The results are out."
Jake leaned against the edge of his mahogany desk, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And? Don’t keep me in suspense, Al. Did you pass, or am I keeping the Audi for myself?"
"Pass? Jake, I didn’t just pass. Merits. Every. Single. One," she chirped, her voice rising with a triumphant energy that made his chest tighten with pride. "Distinction in the majors, too. So, about that promise... when exactly are you handing over the keys to the A4? My driveway is looking a very specific shade of empty."
Jake chuckled, the sound deep and genuine. The weight that had been sitting on his heart since she first broke down in his office felt a fraction lighter.
"Merits across the board? I guess I don’t have a choice then," he said softly. "Listen, get dressed. I’ll come pick you up in an hour so you can drive it yourself. It’s your car now, Aliya. You earned it. You might as well learn how it feels to have that kind of power in your own hands."
"Really? You’re letting me drive it home?" she asked, her voice dropping into something more sincere, almost disbelieving. "Jake... thank you. Seriously. For everything. For yesterday, and for... just being you."
"Don’t thank me yet," he teased, though his eyes were misting over. "Wait until you see the insurance premium. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?"
"See you soon. Love you, Jake."
"Love you too, kid."
After the line went dead, Jake stared at the dark screen for a long moment. His mind drifted back to the clandestine meeting between him, his father, and Darius. The air in that room had been thick with the weight of his new reality. He had given a solemn promise to keep Aliya shielded till she finished college—to ensure she stayed far away from the "billionaire family" profile that drew predators and vultures like moths to a flame.
’If it weren’t for that promise of anonymity, I wouldn’t be handing her the keys to a sensible, silver Audi A4. I’d be heading straight to the dealership to buy her a custom Porsche, something that shouted to the world that the Rivers family was now royalty in Aurelia.’
He let out a short, quiet chuckle, shaking his head at his own reflection in the window. ’It’s probably for the best.’
He looked down at his palms—the same hands that used to be stained with grease and shaking from hunger at the Quick-Stop, clutching a crumpled ten-marks note as if it were a lifeline. At least she would never know that feeling. She would never have to calculate the cost of a bus fare against the price of a loaf of bread.
She got to live a life entirely free of the financial suffocation that had nearly broken him back then. She could be a student with a bright future and a new car, while he stayed in the shadows, managing the eye and the empire that protected her peace.
It was a trade he’d make every single time. As long as she was happy, the cost didn’t matter.
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