Volume 3: The Rise to Power
Summary: Through Isabella's connections, Jack meets several Wall Street figures who are discontent with Richard, seeking potential alliances.
Night fell over Wall Street as the hustle gradually faded. Neon lights flickered, bathing Fifth Avenue in an artificial daylight. But for Jack, the glamour held no meaning. He now lived in a different world—one of shadows and silent deals.
Isabella's bar, The Red Lips, was a modest establishment tucked near the Brooklyn Bridge. It lacked the opulence of Manhattan's elite clubs, instead exuding a raw, untamed energy. Dim lighting, cracked walls, and the lingering scent of cheap tobacco filled the space, each element whispering secrets of the past.
Jack arrived early at The Red Lips and took a seat at the corner of the bar, ordering a cheap whiskey. He didn't look around but focused on polishing his glass, waiting calmly. His eyes were sharp and calm—like a panther lying in wait.
Time passed slowly. The bar grew more crowded, voices rising in volume. People of all backgrounds gathered here, drinking and chatting, momentarily forgetting the burdens of the day. Jack observed quietly, blending into the chaos. He had long since learned how to stay alert in places teeming with opportunists and liars.
At exactly eight o'clock, the door opened and a well-dressed elderly man walked in. He wore a dark gray wool coat and a black fedora hat. Though clearly advanced in age, his presence still carried the aura of a once-charismatic figure. His gaze was piercing, scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey.
Isabella greeted him warmly. "John, you're here."
John gave a slight nod and let his eyes settle on Jack.
She led him to the table. "Jack, this is Mr. John Conner—one of the old guard of Wall Street."
Jack stood and extended his hand. "Mr. Conner, it's an honor."
John studied Jack, shaking his hand with a measured grip. "Jack Harper—the brilliant young financier. Pity your downfall brought you here."
Jack didn't flinch at the remark. He simply shrugged and smiled. "Life has its ups and downs. But I believe I'll rise again soon enough."
"Confidence is admirable in youth, but don't lose sight of reality." John sat down and ordered a whiskey neat. "I'm not here to listen to boasts."
"I understand," Jack replied. "You're here about Richard Corp."
John took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Indeed. Richard Wilson—the ungrateful bastard. He was the one who threw me out." His voice dripped with bitterness. "I spent half my life building his empire, making him millions. And what did I get in return? Nothing but betrayal."
"You have evidence against him?" Jack asked.
John let out a dry laugh. "Of course. That man's hands are far from clean—money laundering, insider trading, market manipulation. He's done it all."
Jack's pulse quickened. This was exactly what he needed. With such evidence, he could finally bring Richard crashing down.
"Why are you telling me this?" Jack asked carefully, keeping his tone even despite the excitement bubbling beneath the surface.
"Because I need a partner," John said, locking eyes with Jack. "I can't take him down alone. I need someone young, capable—and filled with hatred for him."
"Why me?"
"Because you're smart, fearless, and you know finance." John paused. "Most importantly, you have a personal vendetta against Richard."
Jack remained silent for a moment. He knew John was right. They needed each other—John had the proof, and Jack had the means and the drive to use it.
"What kind of partnership do you envision?" Jack asked.
"It's simple," John replied. "I provide the evidence. You use it to send Richard to prison and ruin his reputation forever. I'll give you everything, but I expect results. If I think you've betrayed me, I will make sure you regret it."
Jack nodded. "Agreed. But I also have a condition."
"What is it?"
"I want the whole truth," Jack said. "The truth about how he framed me. About everything."
John hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "Fine. But remember—truth is often cruel."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a USB drive, handing it to Jack. "This is what you want. Use it wisely."
Jack took the cold device in his hand. It wasn't just a piece of hardware—it was hope, the key to his revenge, and the first step back to power.
"To our partnership," Jack said.
"To our partnership," John echoed, raising his glass. They clinked their drinks together—a silent agreement forged in secrecy.
After John left, Jack remained at the bar, staring at the small drive in his palm. His heart pounded. He had finally found a way forward—but he knew this was only the beginning.
He needed more connections. More resources. He needed to become stronger.
The next morning, Jack met Li and handed him the USB drive.
"Decrypt everything inside. I need to know every detail," Jack instructed.
Li nodded, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Count on me, Jack. I won't let you down."
Over the next week, Jack closely monitored Richard Corp.'s movements. He noticed that Richard seemed aware of the growing threat and was taking steps to cover his tracks.
Jack knew time was not on his side.
Using his underground contacts, he began leaking damaging rumors about Richard Corp., knowing they would eventually reach the regulators and the media.
At the same time, he ordered surveillance on Richard's movements, looking for any opportunity to strike.
His plan was unfolding, step by step. But he also knew Richard wouldn't go down easily. Every move had to be precise. Every risk calculated.
Just as Jack was fully immersed in his preparations, he received an anonymous email. The message was brief, containing only one sentence:
"Watch your back."
A chill ran through him. Who sent it? Why warn him?
Jack had a sinking feeling that a much larger conspiracy was closing in on him. He needed to be even more cautious.
Unbeknownst to him, at that very moment, Richard Wilson sat in his luxurious Wall Street office, gazing out over New York City.
A smirk curled on his lips.
"Jack Harper, do you really think you can escape my grasp? How naïve," he muttered. "I'll show you what happens when you cross me."
A war over wealth, power, and vengeance was brewing in silence—and the battlefield was being set.