Chapter 96: Making Moves
The Friday afternoon sun bounced off the polished glass of the Prestige Motors showroom, a quiet cathedral dedicated to the world’s most expensive machinery.
Jake pulled his current car into the lot, Alice sitting beside him with a tablet already active in her lap. She looked out at the rows of high-end vehicles, her mind clearly already moving toward the logistical nightmare of managing a growing firm.
Inside, the air was cool and smelled of expensive leather and industrial-grade wax. A salesman in a suit that likely cost more than a mid-sized sedan approached them, but Jake didn’t give him much time for a pitch. He walked straight toward the SUV section, where the heavy hitters were parked under recessed spotlights.
"I’m looking for something that provides both presence and protection," Jake said, his eyes settling on a pair of Mercedes-Benz G 63 AMGs. They were finished in obsidian black, their boxy, aggressive frames looking like they had been carved from a single block of coal.
"The G 63, excellent choice, sir," the salesman said, sensing the lack of interest in small talk. "Twin-turbo V-8, five hundred and seventy-seven horsepower. These are the armored editions, fitted with Level B6 ballistic protection."
"I’ll take both," Jake said, not even asking for the price, which he knew hovered around 450,000 marks each. He moved further down the line to a pair of Range Rover SV Autobiographies. These were the long-wheelbase versions, designed more for the comfort of the passenger than the thrill of the driver. "And these two as well. I want the interior in executive tan."
The salesman blinked, his professional mask slipping for a fraction of a second as he calculated a nearly two-million-mark sale in under five minutes. "Of course. That would be two hundred and twenty thousand marks per unit for the SVs. Totaling one million, three hundred and forty thousand marks for the four."
"Finalize the paperwork," Jake said, handing over his card. "Have them delivered to the Golden Investments offices by tomorrow afternoon." He paused, a thought crossing his mind. ’There’s no one there to receive them yet. I haven’t even hired a janitor, let alone a fleet manager.’ "Actually, scratch that. Deliver them to The Zenith. My building has a twenty-four-hour garage staff. They’ll hold them until my team is ready."
As the salesman hurried off to draft the contracts, Jake turned to Alice. "Once the dust settles with Sterling next week, I want you to start the full-scale recruitment for Golden Investments. We need analysts, a legal department, and a dedicated logistics head. We can’t keep running a multi-billion mark operation out of a shared office space forever."
"I’ve already started drafting the job descriptions," Alice replied, looking up from her screen. "But speaking of infrastructure, we have a more pressing issue. Grace, Marcus’s personal assistant, reached out to me this morning. She knew we were looking for high-level security and put me in touch with a former special forces group. They’ve gone private and are looking for a singular contract with a firm that’s... active."
Jake leaned against the fender of a nearby car, interested. ’Grace is sharp. If she’s recommending them, Marcus has likely vetted them himself.’ "What’s the lead time on an interview?"
"The leader of the group, a man named Elias, is in the city. I asked him if they could meet today. They can be at the Meridian Crown at 14:00," Alice said.
Jake checked his watch. It was just past noon. "Tell them to be there. I’d rather have the wolves on our side before Sterling realizes he’s the prey."
Alice made the call, her voice crisp and professional as she confirmed the meeting. Just as she finished, Jake’s phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Samuel Carter.
"The inheritance papers are ready, Jake," Samuel said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically energized. "Everything is in order. The three billion in dividends, the trust assets, and the formal transfer of the family’s private holdings—it’s all been cleared. There won’t be any blowback. Legally, the shield is impenetrable. I just need your signature."
"I’m heading to lunch at the Meridian Crown at 14:00," Jake told him. "Bring the paperwork there. I’ll sign it over lunch."
"I’ll be there," Samuel replied.
"And Samuel? As soon as my pen leaves the paper, I want the news leaked. Not a whisper—I want a shout. Call your contacts at the financial dailies. I want everyone to know that a new player has just been fully capitalized. I want Sterling to read about it while he’s still trying to figure out why his iron ore hasn’t arrived."
Alice looked at him, her expression a mix of concern and admiration. "You’re moving very fast, Jake. Rattling him now might make him desperate."
"Desperate men make mistakes, Alice. And I’ve spent enough time watching from the sidelines. It’s time to see if Sterling can swim when the water starts boiling."
They left the dealership at 13:30, the salesman bowing them out as if they were royalty.
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The Friday evening sun hung low over the horizon, painting the skyline of Aurelia in deep bruised purples. On the private terrace of the Obsidian Club, Noah Chen didn’t waste time looking at the view. He had a phone pressed to his ear, his expression as cold as the glass railing he leaned against.
"Director, it’s Noah. Reroute the iron ore distribution for the next seventy-two hours. Everything earmarked for the northern transit lines, make sure they are all halted for a few days, I’ll tell you when to resume the transportation. Classify it as a priority for national strategic reserves."
"Mr. Chen, that’s going to trigger massive breach-of-contract penalties from Sterling Infrastructure," the director’s voice crackled, sounding strained. "We’re talking tens of millions in late fees before Monday morning."
"I’m aware," Noah said flatly. "Deduct the penalties from my personal dividend account. Just get it done. If Sterling calls, tell him the source is dry. Don’t give him a second sentence."
He hung up. ’It’s a fifty-million-mark hit just to stall him for a weekend,’ Noah thought, pocketing the phone. ’But if Sterling gets that steel, he finishes the project. If he finishes the project, he gets his liquidity back. I’d rather lose five million now than deal with a reinforced Julian Sterling later.’
While Noah operated with the autonomy of an undisputed heir, Leon Hart was finding the air much thinner in his mother’s solarium. Elena Hart sat across from him, her eyes scanning a logistics report with terrifying speed.
"You’re asking me to sabotage three shipments of fire-retardant sealants," she said, setting the tablet down. "Sterling isn’t just a client, Leon. He’s a neighbor. If I do this, our reputation for reliability in the construction sector takes a hit. Why would I risk the Hart name for a startup like Aurelia Capitals?"
"Because the Hart name is currently stagnant in the construction sector," Leon countered. "I’m not just asking for a favor, Mother. If this ’logistical error’ leads to a lawsuit we can’t deflect, I’ll sign over my 5% stake in the logistics wing back to the family trust. I’m betting my seat on the board that Sterling won’t have the resources to sue us by next Friday."
Elena paused, her gaze sharpening. "You’d bet your inheritance on this Jake Rivers?"
"I’m betting on the fact that Sterling is overextended," Leon corrected. "He’s shorting Meridian with money he doesn’t have. If we bottleneck him now, he’ll be too busy fighting for air to worry about a delayed shipment. We take the hit now to own the market when he liquidates."
Elena watched him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Fine. I’ll give you seventy-two hours. If he’s still standing by Wednesday, you’re off the board."
Across the city, Marcus Sheele was facing a similar wall in his father’s study. Stuart Sheele stood by the fireplace, looking at his son with a mixture of amusement and skepticism.
"An emergency safety audit on every Sterling site bordering our properties?" Stuart asked. "Marcus, that’s a transparent power move. The zoning board will see right through it. They’ll call it harassment."
"It’s only harassment if we don’t find anything," Marcus said. "And Sterling is rushing his builds to beat the Meridian collapse. I’m so sure of it that I’m willing to put my position as CEO of Aurelia Capitals on the line. If the zoning board finds his sites are compliant and we’ve wasted their time, I’ll step down and return to the Sheele Group as a junior VP under your thumb."
Stuart turned away from the fire, his eyebrows rising. ’He hates working for the family office,’ Stuart thought. ’He values that independence more than anything. If he’s willing to trade it, he’s seen something I haven’t.’
"You’re that confident?" Stuart asked aloud.
"I’m confident that Sterling is desperate," Marcus replied. "And desperate men cut corners. Give me the authority to push the board."
"Seventy-two hours," Stuart echoed his contemporary, Elena. "Don’t make me embarrassed to share a name with you."
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