Richard sat back. "This kind of thing… it can be traceable, right?"
"Not at all," Adam promised. "It will be routed through offshore proxies. Once the panic hits, his holdings plummet. We short the hell out of Bitcoin futures tied to his known positions.
"I've lined up hedge funds— discreet ones —who'll dump en masse, creating a cascade effect. His predictive edge? Useless when the market's rigged against him."
"It'll force him to sell and I'll be the only willing one to buy. Except you would like to join in."
"I don't deal with digital money, Adam. You kids can keep playing with those."
Adam scoffed. "However you want it. Just know that his Bitcoin empire will crash down over this."
Richard's lips curled into a thin, cynical smile, his fingers steepling as another woman approached with a silver tray of cigars, her dance-like movements fluid and silent.
