Chapter 264: Let’s Spend The Night
Sunlight filtered through the glass-paneled ceiling of the sunroom at the sprawling Roys estate, casting geometric shadows across a table laid with fine china and fresh fruit.
Elizabeth Roys took a slow, deliberate sip of her iced tea, her gaze resting on the manicured gardens outside. Across from her, Lana Roys carefully cut into a slice of melon, her bright eyes glinting with understated curiosity. Having been away on an extended tour across the southern provinces, Lana hadn’t seen her cousin in months, but the high-society whispers had reached her long before her private jet touched down in Aurelia.
"So," Lana began, placing her fork down with a delicate click, "are you going to address the elephant currently trampling through every major media outlet in the city, or should I pretend I didn’t see your face plastering every digital billboard from the airport to the estate?"
Elizabeth didn’t break her stride. "If I spent my time reacting to every piece of trash printed by the tabloids, Lana, I wouldn’t have time to run my divisions. It’s just another baseless celebrity rumor. It will pass."
"Usually, I’d agree," Lana said, leaning back in her wrought-iron chair, a subtle smile touching her lips. "But sitting back and letting someone drag your name through the mud alongside a rising young billionaire doesn’t sound like the Elizabeth Roys I grew up with. You usually have your legal team file injunctions before the ink even dries."
"There’s no need to exhaust our legal department," Elizabeth replied smoothly, setting her cup down. "I trust Jake will handle it."
Lana’s eyes widened slightly before curling into a sly, knowing smile. She tilted her head, resting her chin on her hand. "Trust? Since when did Lizzy start trusting outsiders? And a man, no less?"
"Don’t try to make speculations out of thin air," Elizabeth warned, her tone cooling a fraction. "Jake Rivers is a capable pawn. He understands the dynamics of Veyra’s public sphere better than most."
"Oh, I’m not insinuating anything, cousin," Lana purred softly, though her mind was already racing.
’Trust doesn’t come cheap in the Roys family,’ Lana thought to herself, studying Elizabeth’s unflappable composure. ’For Elizabeth to defer to an outsider—especially during a smear campaign—there’s either something deeper between them, or Jake Rivers possesses leverage and talent substantial enough to earn her absolute faith.’
Lana leaned forward, changing tactics with polished grace. "Speaking of Jake... did the Patriarch actually let his little stunt with aunt Marble slide? The whole city knows Marble handed Apex Plaza to him. I can’t imagine Uncle was thrilled about an outsider taking something the family wanted."
"I have no idea what my father intends to do," Elizabeth said calmly, adjusting her silk cuffs. "He’s currently held up with high-level international affairs and structural reorganizations. But if you’re asking whether he’s actively moving against Jake over Apex Plaza... no. My father doesn’t move until he sees the full board, Lana. And right now, Jake Rivers isn’t just a player; he’s setting the tempo."
Lana chuckled softly, picking up her wine glass. "Setting the tempo, is he? Then I suppose I’ll be watching the news very closely this week."
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Thousands of miles away, the private display lounge at the Geneva airfield was dead silent, save for the low, rhythmic hum of the climate controls keeping four hypercars pristine. The dim overhead spotlights reflected off the hand-polished finish of the bespoke Rolls-Royce Boat Tail and mirrored off the carbon-fiber frame of the hundred-million-dollar Bugatti La Voiture Noire.
After inspecting the ridiculous haul, Aliya and Fancy had practically dragged the rest of the group straight into central Geneva for the remainder of Saturday.
For the next several hours, the jet lag and high-stakes tension of the financial world were completely sidelined. Aliya spent the afternoon pulling Fancy through the high-end boutiques along Rue du Rhône, snapping up designer pieces and recording content for her channel while Leon and Noah acted as reluctant coat racks, laden with glossy shopping bags.
They strolled along the promenade at Lake Geneva, taking in the crisp mountain air and grabbing espresso near the Jet d’Eau as the massive fountain sprayed against the clear sky. For a few brief hours, they treated the afternoon like a standard luxury vacation, entirely detached from the quiet war brewing back home in Veyra.
"Look, if we buy one more coat, Noah’s arms are going to fall off," Fancy teased, glance-testing a pair of oversized designer sunglasses as they walked back toward their transport.
"Nonsense," Noah muttered from behind a mountain of shopping bags, his voice muffled. "I’m merely building arm endurance for when finally get married."
"You? Get married?" Leon laughed hard as if Noah had said the most ridiculous thing he had heard causing Noah to shoot him an annoyed look.
"See? He’s thriving," Aliya laughed, turning her camera to capture Noah’s stoic expression before spinning around to wave at Jake, who was walking a few paces behind them, talking softly into his earpiece. "Jake! Stop being absent minded and tell me if these boots aren’t absolute art!"
"They look like boots, Aliya," Jake replied calmly, sliding his phone into his pocket with a faint smirk. "And if those ’art pieces’ delay us getting to the airport, I’m charging storage fees on the jet."
---
By late Saturday night, the group had left the city lights behind and boarded the Bombardier Global 7500 waiting on the private runway.
Inside the quiet, warm cabin, Jake sat by the window in a plush leather seat, a cold espresso resting beside his tablet. The cabin was dimly lit, the ambient ambient floor lights casting a soft glow. Aliya was already curled up on the long leather sofa with her laptop, editing her vlog footage, while Adrian and Marcus sat at the conference table nearby, quiet murmurings of potential steps for Aurelia Capitals floating between them.
Aliya paused her video playback, looking up over the rim of her laptop at Jake. "Hey, Jake... can’t we just spend the night in Geneva and leave tomorrow morning? The beds at the hotel were so nice, and we barely got to explore the old town!"
Jake didn’t look up from his screen. "No."
"Why not?" Aliya pouted, leaning back against the cushions and crossing her arms. "It’s only a few hours’ difference!"
"Because if we stay the night, you’ll convince Fancy that you need ’just two hours’ in the old town tomorrow morning," Jake said smoothly, taking a sip of his espresso. "Which will turn into six hours, three more luggage bags, and us landing in Aurelia right in the middle of a Monday morning market surge. We leave tonight."
Fancy giggled from her seat across the aisle, adjusting her seatbelt before looking toward Leon. "So, when are the cars actually getting delivered to Veyra? I still can’t believe we’re shipping a La Voiture Noire across continents."
Leon unclipped his tablet and pulled up the transport manifest. "Specialized air freight is already prepped. The four cars will be loaded into a secured cargo transport under heavy private escort. They’ll clear Veyra customs by late Monday afternoon and be transferred straight into each person’s estate before sundown on Tuesday."
"Good," Jake murmured.
He unlocked his phone, opening LOOP—Veyra’s premier social networking platform.
Since yesterday’s coordinated tabloid drop detailing his alleged affair with Elizabeth Roys, his feed had been an absolute nightmare. Millions of tags, viral clip edits, dramatic headlines, and wild conspiracy theories flooded his notifications every second. His public relations team had stood down as instructed, leaving his official account completely dark. The public thought he was hiding, panicked, or scrambling behind closed doors with lawyers.
They had no idea he was ten thousand feet in the air, relaxed, and drinking espresso.
Without adding an image, a location tag, or a single detail regarding the scandal, Jake typed out a single sentence and tapped publish:
> "I think the air next week is going to be interesting, let’s see who can sniff it..."
Within three minutes of posting, the single line detonated across Veyra’s digital sphere.
It was the very first statement Jake Rivers had issued since the media storm broke. Because the general public had no idea Troy Newman was the architect behind the hit-piece, no one connected the cryptic words to the Newman Enterprise Group or the impending short-squeeze Jake had laid out.
Instead, the internet descended into utter chaos trying to decode it.
> @VeyraVIP_News: ["Is Jake confirming the Roys Rumours?! What does he mean by air? The last time he said rain now it’s air?! Is he dropping a clue about Elizabeth Roys?!!"]
> @CryptoKing99: ["’Let’s see who can sniff it’—bro is literally giving us a sign that he will be dropping a gold signal tomorrow! Get your trading accounts ready guys! You don’t want to miss this one!"]
> @MarketWatcher_V: ["He doesn’t even care about the scandal leaks, he’s out here dropping riddles like a final boss! Man hasn’t even mentioned the tabloids once!"]
While retail traders, social commentators, and rival finance firms across Veyra spent Saturday night arguing over market riddles, hidden acronyms, and trading signals, a very different reaction took hold elsewhere.
In the high-rise executive penthouse of the Newman Enterprise Group headquarters in central Veyra, a suffocating silence settled over the board room.
Richard Newman sat at the head of the polished mahogany table, his face pale under the harsh LED lights as his tablet displayed Jake’s LOOP post. Standing beside him, Troy Newman stared at the sentence, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.
To the public, it was a cryptic social media post from a eccentric financial star.
To the executive board of the Newman Enterprise Group—who knew precisely what commercial vulnerabilities they had exposed over the weekend—that single line wasn’t a riddle.
It was a statement. War had officially been declared.
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