Chapter 190: Chapter 190: The Snake (Bonus Chapter)
Thanks for all the Golden Tickets. Here’s a bonus Chapter...
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Down at Table Nine, the conversation remained entirely grounded, unaffected by the whispers echoing across the room.
"I wanted to see the country’s youngest billionaire for myself," Spencer said, chuckling as a waiter poured him a fresh glass of water. "Veyra’s markets have been stagnant for a decade. Legacy monopolies tend to breed laziness. What you did with signals and the liquid capital injections this week... it woke a lot of people up."
"The market needed a pulse, Mr. President," Jake said, his expression calm. He didn’t lean in, nor did he overcompensate with deference. He spoke to Spencer as an equal power, a detail that didn’t escape the President’s sharp eyes.
As the dinner progressed, the formal state auctions and project tenders began appearing on the main digital screens across the hall. Deals were being struck, legacy names buying up mining rights and transport lines. But when the massive, highly anticipated tender for the new international airport construction in Mult—one of Veyra’s fastest-growing cities—came to the board, Spencer casually glanced up at the screen, then back to Adrian and Marcus.
"The Mult airport project needs modern efficiency," Spencer remarked smoothly, setting his water glass down with a soft click. "I believe Aurelia Capitals’ new construction subsidiaries are uniquely qualified for it. I’ll make sure the administrative board sends the primary paperwork to your offices tomorrow morning."
Marcus’s eyes flashed, his fingers quickly logging the multi-billion-dollar state acquisition into their private ledger under the table. His face remained professional, but his posture straightened with a sudden, sharp focus.
A few minutes later, Spencer checked his watch and stood up smoothly. "Well, duty calls. I have a late-night briefing I must tend to. It was an absolute pleasure getting to know the five of you. Keep shaking up the market."
The table stood to see him off, watching as the massive entourage escorted the President out of the pavilion, the heavy glass doors closing behind them.
For a long moment, nobody at Table Nine spoke. The sheer weight of the last forty minutes hung over the linen cloth. Noah leaned across the table first, his face a mix of pure adrenaline and confusion. "Jesus, Jake! How the hell do you know the President? Why didn’t you tell us you had the executive office in your pocket?"
Adrian smoothly picked up his wine glass, casting a sharp, silencing look at Noah. "If you had been paying attention instead of staring at the lady in the security detail, you would have heard the conversation. This was Jake and Spencer’s very first meeting."
Noah blinked, looking between Adrian and Jake in absolute disbelief. "First meeting? And he just handed us the Mult airport tender like it was a piece of bread?"
"He didn’t hand it to us because he likes us," Marcus said, his eyes still fixed on the digital ledger on his screen. "He handed it to us because we are the only force large enough to build it without using the legacy families he’s trying to phase out. It’s a political alignment, not a favor."
Jake didn’t join the speculation. He kept his gaze fixed on the upper mezzanine, his eyes tracing the dark, glass-fronted technical booths where the silhouette had vanished earlier. The President’s arrival had provided a temporary shield, but it hadn’t erased the specific technical threat Timber had raised on the balcony.
"Adrian," Jake said, his voice quiet as he leaned back, entirely shifting the subject away from the presidency. "Who has access to the internal engineering logistics of the Steel Refinery Phase 2? Specifically the structural drainage and environmental vibration blueprints that were submitted to the planning board last month."
Adrian paused, his glass held halfway to his lips. He set it down with precise care, the celebratory mood evaporating from his expression as he read the coldness in Jake’s eyes. "That’s something you should be aware of as stake holder though. But the primary copy stays within our internal technical database. The only external copies were delivered digitally to the Ministry of Trade’s compliance vault, and a hard token was held by the telecom infrastructure subcontractor managing the fiber lines alongside the rail layouts."
"I’m mostly hands of since my uncke is running it all. Who’s the contractor?" Jake clarified then asked.
"The Livingston Group," Adrian answered, his eyes locking onto Jake’s with a sudden, sharp understanding. He saw the subtle hardening of Jake’s jaw, a specific reaction he had only seen a few times before. "They hold the municipal utility rights for that entire zone. Why?"
Noah looked up from his plate, picking up on the sudden drop in temperature at the table. "The Livingston Group? Aren’t they that massive telecom monopoly? What do a bunch of signal towers have to do with rail vibrations?"
Jake didn’t answer Noah. His mind immediately pulled him back to his college days. Back then, he was just a broke student from a middle-class family. His closest friend throughout those university years had been Alex Livingston. Alex had been the heir to a massive fortune, yet he had arrived at campus with a fierce, burning resentment for his own family. He had spent his nights drinking cheap beer and venting to Jake about the suffocating weight of his family—specifically the corporate arranged marriage his parents were forcing on him with Anna Brodick, a match designed purely to merge two empires.
Jake remembered the fierce promises Alex had made back then about never returning to that world. But looking up at the mezzanine, Jake realized the truth. The broke student was now running Aurelia Capitals, and the rebellious friend had gone back to his bloodline, trading his rebellion for a suit and turning into a bitter rival who knew exactly how Jake’s mind operated.
Marcus, Noah, and Leon still didn’t know the full history between them, but Adrian knew exactly who Alex was.
"Timber didn’t just guess those specific environmental sound-pollution metrics on the balcony," Jake said, his voice dropping into a level, dangerous register that cut through the ambient music of the hall. "The Ministry bureaucrats are lazy. They don’t dig up micro-decibel variances on rail vibrations unless someone drops the exact page numbers and technical data onto their desks. Someone handed them the specific leverage points to use against us."
Adrian’s face darkened as the pieces clicked together in his mind. He leaned forward, keeping his voice strictly between the two of them to protect the perimeter of the table. "Alex. He’s the one overseeing the Livingston Group’s new infrastructure data division. He had direct administrative access to the compliance vault through the telecom integration files."
"Who is this Alex guy?" Noah asked, looking between Jake and Adrian, his brow furrowing as he sensed the unspoken history. "You guys look like you just found a snake in the room."
"Just an old acquaintance," Jake said smoothly, his tone entirely flat. He didn’t elaborate, and the cold finality in his voice told Noah that the topic was firmly closed for the rest of the table.
Marcus’s phone buzzed with a silent vibration against the white tablecloth. He glanced at the incoming notification, his eyes narrowing as he read the secure line message.
"My team just pulled a live update from the municipal bidding ledger," Marcus murmured, turning the screen slightly so the table could see the fast-tracked document that had updated barely thirty minutes ago. "Look at the upcoming state telecom infrastructure tenders. The Ministry of Trade just opened a fast-tracked emergency network contract for the Northern Freight Corridor. It’s a massive, multi-billion-marks state project. And guess who just filed the primary bid with full administrative backing from Timber’s office?"
"The Livingston Group," Adrian read aloud from the ledger, a cold smile touching his lips as he looked at Jake. "It’s a direct trade. He gives the politicians the technical blueprint they need to corner you and force a concession, and in return, Timber ensures the Livingston family wins the rigged telecom tenders to expand their monopoly under the state’s protection."
Leon scoffed, leaning forward with his elbows on the white cloth, his expression turning cynical. "So the politicians get to look like they’re reining in Golden Investments, and the Livingstons get their network funded by taxpayer money. It’s a nice little loop."
Jake didn’t answer. He looked down at his water glass, watching the clear liquid ripple slightly as a heavy bassline from the closing music vibrated through the floorboards.
Alex hadn’t changed. He was still trying to play the shadow strategist. And now he was hiding behind the titles of older men and institutional desks because he lacked the raw power to face Jake in the open. He was playing by the old-money rules, assuming a government contract could insulate him from reality.
"They think they can use state tenders to insulate themselves," Jake said softly, the silence at Table Nine deepening as his partners watched him. "They think if they get those contracts locked in before next week’s formal budget session, we won’t be able to touch them without disrupting the state’s communication lines."
"The formal contract signing for the Northern Freight Corridor is set for Tuesday morning," Marcus said, his thumb flicking to close the ledger. "If Timber signs that authorization, the Livingstons lock down that liquidity."
"Then we don’t let the ink dry," Jake said, standing up smoothly from his chair. He adjusted the silver buttons on his cuffs, his charcoal-grey suit catching the dimming house lights as Troy Husks prepared to take the stage for the final closing remarks.
"Where are you going?" Noah asked, his eyes tracking Jake’s movement.
"To check on our shadow," Jake replied levelly.
Adrian gave a single, understanding nod, his eyes communicating a silent warning to stay sharp.
Without drawing the attention of the media line near the entrance, Jake navigated the perimeter of the banquet hall, his unhurried steps taking him past the heavy velvet curtains and toward the private, carpeted stairwell leading up into the shadows of the Grand Pavilion’s upper tiers.
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