Chapter 97: The Coronation
The Meridian Crown was bustling with the Friday lunch crowd, a sea of tailored suits and hushed conversations. Jake didn’t stop at the maître d’s station. He caught the eye of the floor manager, a man who had seen three generations of the Rivers family pass through these doors.
"I need the vault room," Jake said, referring to one of the soundproofed private booths at the back. "No service unless I buzz."
The manager nodded instantly and led them toward the rear. As they passed the main dining area, Alice slowed down, her eyes tracking a man sitting alone at a small table by the window. He was dressed in a simple charcoal suit, nursing a black coffee while staring at nothing in particular.
"That’s him," Alice whispered to Jake.
Jake continued to the private room while Alice circled back. A minute later, she stepped into the booth, followed by the man. Up close, he looked even more imposing. His knuckles were scarred, and his posture was so upright it looked painful.
"Elias Thorne," Alice said, introducing him.
"Sit," Jake said, gesturing to the leather bench opposite him. "You’ve got fifteen minutes. Tell me why I should hire your group instead of a standard corporate firm."
"A standard firm reacts," Elias said, his voice like gravel. "My team prevents. We’ve spent ten years in high-threat environments where a mistake doesn’t mean a lawsuit, it means a body bag. We don’t just drive you around, Mr. Rivers. We handle your signals intelligence, your transport routes, and your perimeter. If someone is even thinking about touching you, we’ll know before they reach for the door."
"I’m moving against Julian Sterling," Jake said, watching the man’s reaction. There was none. "He’s well-connected and currently desperate. I need 24/7 coverage for myself, Alice, and my close circle."
"Six men," Elias replied. "Three on, three off. We’ll need a full sweep of your residence at The Zenith tonight and the office by tomorrow morning. My rate is fixed, and my loyalty is to the contract, not the family name."
"Alice has the contract details," Jake said. "Be at the Zenith tomorrow at 14:00 for the first briefing. I want to see your team."
Elias nodded once, stood up, and disappeared from the room with the same quiet efficiency he’d entered with.
---
Five minutes later, the door opened again. Samuel Carter walked in, looking like a man who had just finished a marathon. He looked at Jake, then at the heavy mahogany table, and pulled a stack of documents from his briefcase.
"The inheritance is fully processed, Jake," Samuel said, his voice low but sharp. "The 3.2 billion marks in dividends are ready for transfer. But it’s more than just cash. These deeds here cover the Meridian Hotel, the Crown, the Brewers, the Gallery, and Faceup. You are now the majority owner of the family’s most profitable private assets. Darius and the Group only hold 30%. You hold the rest."
Jake picked up the pen. He didn’t hesitate. He signed page after page, the scratching of the nib the only sound in the room. When he finished, he pushed the stack back to Samuel.
"It’s done," Jake said. "Now, I want you to make good on that leak. I want the world to know exactly who just became a billionaire. Mention the assets specifically. The Hotel, the Crown—everything. I want it to look like the Rivers legacy has a new heart."
"Consider it done," Samuel said, packing the papers away. "I’ll start with the lead editors at the Financial Daily. They’ve been waiting for a story that isn’t about Paul’s drug scandal. This will drown that out in minutes."
Samuel left the room, pulling his phone out as he hit the hallway. As the door closed behind him, Jake could hear him already speaking.
"Yeah, it’s Carter. I’ve got the confirmation on the Rivers estate. It’s not just a rumor. Three billion in liquid and the entire hospitality portfolio. Get your front page ready."
Jake sat back, exhaling slowly. Alice looked at him, her expression unreadable.
"You’ve just painted a massive target on your back," she said.
"Better a target than a shadow," Jake replied.
---
Miles away, in a penthouse overlooking the harbor, Julian Sterling laughed as he raised a glass of vintage champagne. He was surrounded by his inner circle, celebrating the successful intimidation of Darius Rivers earlier that morning. The room was filled with the smell of expensive cigars and the sound of self-congratulation.
"To the new Meridian," someone toasted, clinking their glass against Julian’s.
"To the only man with the vision to take it," Julian added, his grin wide and arrogant. He felt invincible. He had the board in his pocket, the bank on his side, and the Rivers family in a corner.
His phone, sitting on the glass coffee table, began to buzz. He saw the name: James, his personal assistant. Julian frowned and picked it up.
"I’m in the middle of a celebration, James. This better be good news."
"Sir, you need to check the news wires," James’s voice was frantic. "It’s going viral. There’s been a massive inheritance announcement. Jake Rivers—Darius’s nephew—has just been confirmed as the sole heir to Robert Rivers’ private holdings. He’s just taken control of the Meridian Crown, the Brewers, the Hotel, Faceup, and the Gallery. The dividends alone are being reported at over three billion marks. He’s a billionaire, Julian. Overnight."
The smile on Julian’s face didn’t just fade; it vanished. He stood up, the champagne glass still in his hand, as the room went quiet. "What are you talking about? Those are Group assets. They’re tied up in the short."
"No, sir. They were held in a private trust. The Group only owned 30%. Jake Rivers owns the rest. He’s already fully capitalized a new firm called Golden Investments."
Before Julian could process the weight of that blow, his phone beeped again—an incoming call from his project manager at the northern spire site. He switched the line, his hand trembling slightly.
"What is it now?"
"Julian, we’ve got a crisis. The iron ore shipment from Chen Mining has been rerouted. They’re claiming national strategic reserves took priority. And I’ve got three inspectors from the zoning board standing at the gate with an emergency audit order for 8:00 AM Saturday. They’re threatening to shut down the entire site if we don’t clear the safety checks."
Julian stared at the city lights, the champagne in his hand suddenly tasting like ash. He had spent the morning thinking he was the predator. Now, for the first time in his life, he felt the cold, sharp realization that he was the one being hunted.
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