Chapter 98: The Earthquake
1USD = 10VM (Veyra Marks)
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The Friday evening news cycle in Veyra was usually a predictable affair of weekend weather and closing market bells. But at 18:00, every major network’s stinger cut through the airwaves simultaneously, signaling a break in regular programming.
On Veyra Business Daily, the lead anchor, Sarah Vance, leaned into the camera with an expression that bordered on disbelief.
"Our top story tonight is a tectonic shift in the city’s financial landscape," she began, her voice crisp and urgent. "What started as a week of scandal for the Rivers family has ended in a stunning reversal. We have confirmed reports that Jake Rivers has formally activated the private trust of the late Robert Rivers, moving the entirety of those holdings into his privately owned firm, Golden Investments."
The screen behind her shifted to a complex chart comparing ’Meridian Group Public’ and ’Golden Investments Private.’
"To help us understand how nine billion marks in assets essentially vanished from the public eye only to reappear in a private firm, we are joined by Professor Elias Halloway, a specialist in trust law," Vance said, turning to a man on a second screen. "Professor, how is this legally possible? The public and even the board of the Meridian Group believed these assets belonged to the corporation."
"It’s a masterclass in legal compartmentalization, Sarah," Halloway replied, adjusting his glasses. "Robert Rivers built a ’silo’ structure. While the Meridian Group—the public entity—managed the daily operations and branding of the Hotel and the Brewers, they never actually owned the deeds. They were essentially leasing the rights from Robert’s private trust. The board members were likely so focused on the quarterly dividends that they never looked at the fine print of the underlying titles. Now that the trust has been activated by the rightful heir, the ’lease’ has effectively ended. Jake Rivers didn’t take these assets away from the company; he simply stopped letting the company use them."
Vance looked back at the camera. "And the valuation of Golden Investments is staggering. Analysts suggest a figure of nine billion marks on assets alone. This includes the Meridian Hotel at 3.7 billion, the Meridian Crown Restaurant at 1.4 billion, the Brewers at 900 million, the Gallery at 1.1 billion, and the tech firm Faceup at 700 million. With an additional 1.2 billion in secondary shares, Jake Rivers has catapulted into the top three richest young individuals in the country. He isn’t just a player anymore; he is the bank."
The infographic shifted to show a new corporate structure.
"Golden Investments also owns a twenty percent stake in Aurelia Capitals," Vance continued. "Joining Marcus Sheele, Adrian Vale, Leon Hart, and Noah Chen. This coalition now controls the capital’s supply chain from the raw minerals to the luxury lobbies. The market is already calling them the ’Aurelia Five,’ and frankly, they’ve just made the old guard look like they’re playing with toys."
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The Saturday morning editions of the Daily Ledger were already being leaked online with the headline: THE HIGH TABLE: FIVE PRINCES, ONE CROWN.
The financial columnists were having a field day. ’This isn’t just an investment group,’ wrote one senior editor. ’It’s a vertical monopoly. With Adrian Vale’s banking infrastructure, Noah Chen’s raw materials, Leon Hart’s logistics, and Marcus Sheele’s development power—all fueled by Jake Rivers’ newfound billions—they have bypassed the need for the old guard entirely. Julian Sterling doesn’t just have a competitor; he has a wall he cannot climb.’
On social media, the reaction was a chaotic mix of awe and memes. A grainy photo of Jake leaving the Meridian Crown had already been shared millions of times. The comments were a fever dream of speculation.
"How did Julian Sterling miss this?" one user posted. "He’s been trying to bankrupt the Meridian Group to buy it cheap, but the things worth buying aren’t even owned by the Group anymore. It’s like trying to steal a car only to find out the engine is owned by someone else."
"Jake Rivers is 20-something and owns a gallery, a brewery, a tech company, and the best hotel in the city," another commented. "And he’s partnered with Chen and Sheele? This isn’t a business news story; it’s the beginning of a dynasty. Sterling is finished. He doesn’t have the liquidity to fight a group that can print its own money."
"Is anyone checking on Julian Sterling? He’s been bragging about taking over Meridian all week. Now he’s facing a guy who has more cash in his pocket than Sterling has in his entire company valuation."
"Look at the names. It’s a closed loop. They mine the steel, they ship the steel, they build the skyscraper, they finance the loan, and they host the gala in the lobby. We are living in their world now."
"Nine billion marks? That’s not a company, that’s a superpower," one user wrote. "If Golden Investments is the backbone of Darius Rivers, Julian Sterling is trying to fight a tsunami with a beach umbrella. Because Jake has the backing of Aurelia Capitals."
"Look at the asset breakdown. Jake owns the hotel you stay in, the beer you drink, the gallery you visit, and the app you use to post about it. And he still has 3.2 billion in cash ready to move. He’s not just in the Top 3 richest young people; he might be the most liquid man in the district right now."
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In the quiet, high-ceilinged study of the Vale residence, Arthur Vale sat in a leather armchair, the glow of the television screen reflecting in his glasses. He watched the breakdown of Golden Investments’ assets on a loop, his hand resting on a crystal glass of scotch.
’Nine billion in assets and over three billion in liquid dividends,’ Arthur thought, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across his face. He recalled his conversation with Adrian earlier that afternoon—the way his son had been so willing to sacrifice his CEO candidacy just to back this play.
The report showed the names again: Sheele, Vale, Hart, Chen, Rivers.
’So that was it,’ Arthur thought, the pieces clicking together with a satisfying precision. ’My son wasn’t just being reckless or helping a friend. He knew the kid had the vault keys. He wasn’t just picking a side; he was picking the winner.’
Arthur leaned back, his mind racing through the potential of the Aurelia Five. He had always known Adrian was "business smart," but this was something else. This was visionary. Adrian had realized that the old way of doing things—competing and fighting for scraps of the market—was over. By bringing these five together, they hadn’t just changed the game; they had bought the stadium.
He felt a sudden, sharp interest in Jake Rivers. To be the catalyst for such a group, the boy had to be more than just a lucky heir. He had to be the anchor.
"Adrian," Arthur whispered to the empty room, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You’ve outdone yourself. You let Cyrus think he won the chair, while you went out and built a throne."
He picked up his phone and sent a short text to his secretary.
"Clear my schedule for a day in the first week of next month. I want a meeting with Adrian and his partner, Jake Rivers. Ensure it is at the Crown. I want to see how the young man handles his new kingdom."
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While the elite speculated, the street-level fallout was immediate. In the bars of the financial district, traders were shouting into their phones, trying to cancel sell orders on Meridian stock.
"Buy everything!" one broker yelled over the din. "The dividend news alone is going to triple the share price by Monday morning. If Jake Rivers moves even ten percent of that cash into the public market, any short position on Meridian is going to be incinerated. Sterling is dead. Tell the clients to liquidate their Sterling holdings now before the opening bell on Monday. It’s going to be a bloodbath."
The public perception of the Rivers name had shifted in an instant. The drug scandal involving Paul was now being framed as a minor footnote, an embarrassment caused by a black sheep that had already been replaced. Jake was the new face—the "Silent Billionaire" who had returned to restore the legacy.
As the sun began to set on Friday, the city felt charged, like the air before a lightning strike. People were walking a little faster, the conversations in the cafes were a little louder, and every eye was on the top floors of the Zenith.
Julian Sterling had spent years building a reputation as a shark, a man who could smell blood from miles away. But as night fell on Veyra, the shark had finally realized it was swimming in a tank with five orcas, and the water was rapidly being drained.
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