Chapter 269: The First Strike
"EXECUTE!" Silas’s roar echoed across the floor, and in less than a fraction of a second, the quiet intensity of Sterling International’s high-security division exploded into controlled, high-frequency chaos.
The clatter of mechanical keyboards sounded like rapid gunfire. Massive red order blocks flooded the primary exchange gateways, spilling directly into the dark pools. Sixteen dedicated quantitative desks unleashed tens of thousands of market-on-open short orders into the order book, slamming into Newman Enterprise Group’s ticker with terrifying force.
On the master wall screen, the ticker NEG flashed blood red.
$142.50... $141.80... $140.10!
Within the first eight seconds of market open, over forty million marks in paper valuation dissolved into thin air.
"We have direct aggressive volume on the opening block!" Finn screamed over the noise of flashing alerts inside Richard Newman’s top-floor suite. "It’s Rivers! He didn’t even probe the bid-ask spread—he just dumped two million shares straight into market execution!"
Richard gripped the edge of his mahogany desk so hard his knuckles turned stark white. "Absorb it! Trigger the automatic buy-support algorithm on Sheele’s clearing ledger! Do not let the stock slip below $140!"
Ray leaned over Finn’s shoulder, his eyes wide with terror as he watched the depth-of-market ladder move at blinding speed. "The algorithm is buying! Fifty million marks of Sheele’s credit just hit the bid wall!"
On the ticker, the sharp decline hit a wall of synthetic liquidity. The green line fought back frantically.
$140.10... $140.90... $141.30.
"It worked!" Ray gasped, letting out a wild, breathless laugh. "Sheele’s capital is holding the line! We’re absorbing his short blocks!"
Richard let out a shuddering breath, a desperate, triumphant smirk tugging at his cracked lips. "He thought he could crush us in five minutes. He underestimated five hundred million marks of institutional backing. Hold that wall, Finn! Force his borrow fees through the roof!"
---
Back on the floor of Sterling International, Silas Thorne watched the green candle attempt to push back up, his eyes locked onto the order flow depth.
"Mr. Rivers," Silas said quickly, turning his head toward Jake, who stood with his hands casually tucked into his suit pockets. "They’ve deployed the five-hundred-million-mark credit wall. Automatic buy algorithms are layering multi-million-mark bids every five cents down to $139.50. If we keep hitting market orders, our execution cost per borrowed share will start creeping up."
Jake didn’t flinch. His dark eyes remained fixed on the live order book, watching the artificial liquidity wall bounce back against his opening wave.
"Five hundred million marks sound impressive to a dying family," Jake said softly, his voice impossibly calm in the middle of the roaring room. "But to us, it’s just a speed bump."
Jake stepped forward, placing one hand on the edge of the master terminal.
"Silas, switch from direct market shorting to laddered dark pool sweeps. Coordinate desks one through eight to dump concentrated twenty-million-mark blocks directly onto their exact bid intervals. Desks nine through sixteen, begin aggressively shorting their secondary construction suppliers and logistics partners in tandem."
Silas blinked, a wave of shock washing over his face before a ruthless grin took over. "A cross-market supply chain short... You’re not just breaking their stock, Mr. Rivers. You’re triggering cross-default covenants across their entire operational network!"
"If they want to use Stuart Sheele’s money to absorb my blows," Jake murmured, his eyes gleaming with cold, predatory amusement, "I’ll make sure every single cent of that five hundred million burns before the morning session hits the half-hour mark. Hit them again."
"DESKS ONE TO EIGHT, SWEEP THE DARK POOLS!" Silas bellowed into his headset. "DESKS NINE TO SIXTEEN, ATTACK THE SUBSIDIARIES! FULL MARGIN ALLOCATION!"
The second wave hit.
This time, it wasn’t just a blow to Newman Enterprise Group’s stock—it was a full-scale institutional barrage that rattled the very foundations of the corporate empire. Across the country, trading terminals flashed red as NEG’s core suppliers began to plunge, automatically triggering margin calls that fed back into NEG’s main liquidity pool.
On the main board, the $141.30 support line didn’t just bend. It shattered.
$141.30... $138.00... $133.50... $125.00!
In under three minutes, over one hundred and fifty million marks of Stuart Sheele’s credit support was completely obliterated, swallowed whole by Golden Investments’ relentless momentum.
---
Inside Sam Newman’s private penthouse, the silence was shattered by the high-pitched alarm of the TV broadcast.
The anchor’s voice sounded almost panicked over the speakers: "Breaking news out of the financial exchange! Newman Enterprise Group has lost over 12% of its market value in the opening twenty minutes of trading! Trading halts have just been triggered on two major subsidiary lines as unprecedented short volume floods the market—"
Sam stared at the screen, the crystal glass in his hand trembling as the red chart plunged off a cliff.
Standing beside him, Julian Croft checked his encrypted phone, his expression darkening significantly.
"It’s a bloodbath," Julian whispered, genuinely stunned. "Rivers isn’t just selling their stock... he’s shorting their entire ecosystem. Your father’s five-hundred-million-mark defense isn’t going to last until noon."
Sam swallowed hard, a sudden wave of ice settling deep in his stomach. For the first time, looking at the unstoppable force of Golden Investments moving across the screen, a terrifying realization hit him:
He hadn’t just lost his seat at the table. His family might not even have a table left to sit at by the end of the day.
---
Inside the executive suite of the Newman Group tower, absolute panic had set in.
"Dad! The buy wall is collapsing!" Finn yelled, his fingers flying across the keys in a desperate effort to reallocate capital. "Three hundred million of Sheele’s line is gone! It didn’t even slow him down! The stock is at $121.00 and falling!"
Richard stood rooted to the spot, cold sweat soaking through his shirt collar. Five hundred million marks—the colossal sum he had practically signed over half his company’s commercial yield to secure—was being swallowed up like a drop of water in an ocean.
Where is Sheele? Richard thought frantically, his lungs burning as he gasped for air. He promised he would step in! He said he was going to have a formal word with Rivers! Why hasn’t Rivers backed off?!
With trembling hands, Richard snatched the direct line off his desk and punched in Stuart Sheele’s private number.
The line rang three times before Sheele picked up, his tone infuriatingly leisurely. "Yes, Richard?"
"Lord Sheele!" Richard practically choked on his words, his composure completely shattered. "His short wave is tearing through your five hundred million! He’s shorting our suppliers, our subsidiaries, everything! When are you making the call to Jake Rivers?! When are you getting him to stand down?!"
Over the speaker, Stuart let out a light, rhythmic tap of his teacup against its saucer. "Patience, Richard. These things take delicate timing. I am currently in the process of negotiating with young Rivers’ network to find an agreeable exit window. You cannot expect a man to halt a tidal wave in five minutes."
"He’s going to wipe us out before the hour ends!" Richard pleaded desperately. "Can you inject another line? Expand the credit guarantee?!"
"My five hundred million is sitting on your ledger, Richard," Stuart replied smoothly, his voice laced with cold detachment. "If you cannot hold the line long enough for the diplomatic channels to work, then perhaps your firm lacks the structural resilience I assumed it had. Stand your ground."
Click.
The line went dead.
Richard stared at the phone in horror, his vision blurring. He didn’t know that Stuart had never intended to stop Jake—that the five hundred million was merely a test to see if Jake could bite through it, while Stuart sat back waiting to scavenge fifty percent of whatever carcass remained. To Richard, Stuart was their only lifeline.
"Dad... what did he say?" Ray asked, his voice shaking as he stood up from the couch.
Richard slowly put the phone down, forcing his trembling shoulders back as a twisted, desperate determination took over his face. "He’s working on it. Sheele is speaking to Rivers as we speak. All we need to do... is hold on long enough for Sheele to force him to the negotiating table."
"Hold on with what?!" Finn shouted, pointing at the flashing red screen. "There’s barely a hundred and fifty million left of Sheele’s liquidity! Once that’s gone, the bid wall disappears completely!"
"Then we use our own," Richard growled, his voice dropping into a dark, reckless register.
Ray gasped. "Dad, no! The board—"
"Forget the board!" Richard roared, slamming his palms onto the mahogany desk. "If the stock hits zero, there won’t be a board! There won’t be a company! There won’t be a Newman family! We have one billion marks sitting in the company’s central liquid reserves. Transmit it all to the prime clearing ledger immediately!"
"Dad, that’s our entire operational cash reserve!" Finn stepped forward, horror written all over his face. "If you move that money without board authorization, it’s an illegal transfer! If this backfires, Mary and Marcus will file criminal charges against us! We won’t just be broke, we’ll be in prison!"
"We won’t be in prison because Sheele is going to pull Rivers off our necks!" Richard snarled, his eyes wildly bloodshot as he leaned over Finn’s shoulder. "If we fall here, everything is over anyway! Finn, execute the transfer! Right now!"
Finn swallowed hard, his throat dry as bone. Looking at his father’s unhinged expression, he hesitated for only a second before entering the master security keys.
"Transferring... one billion marks from core reserves to the primary market buy-wall," Finn whispered.
The room went dead quiet. On the wall screen, a massive green wall suddenly materialized on the order ladder, placing a heavy, dense floor under the stock at $120.00.
"We placed one billion marks directly under the bid," Finn murmured, staring blankly at the screen. "We’re standing completely naked now."
Richard stared at the green floor, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Now... we wait for Sheele to finish him."
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