Rain crawled down the windows of Nicholas's flat, distorting the city lights into bleeding streaks of color. He barely recognized the hollow-eyed man staring back at him from the glass. The bottle of Macallan sat untouched on his desk, next to a photograph of Sebastian taken at last year's company Christmas party. In it, Sebastian was laughing at something Nicholas had said, his arm draped casually around his shoulder. Sebastian now can only lie in bed, unable to speak or move. Nicholas thought bitterly. The man who once dominated the business world now relies on a ventilator to stay alive.
His phone had been buzzing incessantly for the past hour. First, the news alert: "Major DeFi Protocol Collapses, $500M in User Funds Lost." Then, the Instagram notification that had sent his blood pressure soaring: Lizzy's engagement announcement, complete with a poetic photo of her engagement ring glinting softly against a backdrop of sun-dappled bamboo.
Sometimes the best decisions are the crazy ones đź’Ť
Nicholas read the caption again, his jaw clenching. This Instagram post was proof of everything he'd always known about her. Too much like Sebastian—brilliant, passionate, and ultimately reckless. The kind of leader who burned bright and left others to clean up the ashes.
Anna made sacrifices. Too many, perhaps. She knew restraint, but restraint had cost her joy. Lizzy, on the other hand, didn't even recognize the cost yet. Nicholas wasn't sure which blindness was more dangerous. But Anna was gone, wounded by love and loss. Nicholas had tried—out of loyalty to Sebastian's requests, out of duty to the company—to make the impossible work. To pretend that passion could substitute for precision, that sentiment could replace systematic thinking.
The phone calls had started immediately. Morrison, demanding an emergency board meeting. Three major investors, questioning the "corporate governance implications." The Financial Times, wanting a comment on the "surprising romantic development" that had sent GDI's after-hours trading into free fall.
The phone buzzed again. Unknown number this time.
"Nicholas DeVille speaking."
"Mr. DeVille, this is James Chen from Meridian Capital. I believe we have some mutual interests to discuss."
Nicholas felt a familiar stirring—the anticipation of systematic order reasserting itself. He'd heard of Meridian, of course. A Singapore-based investment fund that understood the difference between emotional sentiment and strategic imperatives. "I'm listening."
"Perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The Langham, private dining room seven. I think you'll find our conversation... illuminating."
The line went dead before Nicholas could respond, but he was already reaching for his calendar.
The Langham's private dining room was a study in understated luxury—mahogany panels, crystal glasses, and the kind of silence that money could buy. James Chen was younger than Nicholas had expected, perhaps forty, with the polished confidence of someone who'd never confused emotion with logic. His companion introduced himself simply as "Howard Kim, from our technology division."
"Thank you for coming, Mr. DeVille. May I call you Nicholas?" Chen didn't wait for an answer. "We've been following GDI's situation with great interest."
"I assume you mean the recent... volatility." Nicholas kept his voice neutral, though something in his chest had loosened for the first time in weeks. Here, finally, were people who understood that business was about more than good intentions.
Chen smiled, sliding a tablet across the table. "Your stock price has dropped eighteen percent since the engagement announcement. Your board is in chaos. And from what we hear, there's about to be a vote of no confidence."
"Market volatility is normal in times of transition."
"Transition." Howard Kim leaned forward. "That's an interesting word for what's happening. Lizzy Grant just announced her engagement to a subordinate via Instagram. In our business, we call that a governance failure. I have reason to believe she's made even more reckless decisions within the company."
Nicholas felt a flicker of something that might have been relief. "Lizzy is Sebastian's daughter. She's still learning—"
"And she's also surprisingly naive," Chen interrupted, though his tone carried a note of professional respect. "We've analyzed her latest proposal for the Southeast Asian expansion. Technically sound, but completely divorced from market realities. She's building castles in the air while the foundation crumbles."
"You've seen her proposal?"
" We have sources within the industry who keep us informed of major strategic initiatives. We make it our business to understand the landscape." Chen's expression grew serious. "The question is whether potential can survive inexperience. Whether good intentions can overcome market forces."
As they walked through their analysis, Nicholas found himself nodding. Every point they made was something he'd observed but tried to rationalize away. Lizzy certainly has passion, but what she lacks is an understanding of systems. Passion is not competence. Inheritance is not qualification.
"What exactly are you proposing?" Nicholas asked, though he already knew he wanted to hear it.
"Partnership," Chen said simply. "We're prepared to make a substantial investment in GDI. Enough to stabilize the stock price, fund the Asian expansion properly, and provide the professional management that's clearly needed."
"And in return?"
"Controlling interest. A seat on the board. And most importantly, leadership that understands the difference between vision and execution."
Nicholas felt the last of his guilt dissolve into strategic clarity. This wasn't betrayal—this was the logical conclusion of months of professional observation. "You're talking about a restructuring."
"We're talking about salvation through systematic restructuring." Howard's voice carried conviction. "Look, we know Sebastian was a legend, and his daughter clearly inherited his passion. But passion without operational discipline is just expensive chaos. The company needs someone who can honor his vision while making the hard choices he would have made."
Chen nodded. "We've done our homework, Nicholas. We know about your history with GDI, your relationship with Sebastian, your attempts to guide the succession. "
For the first time in months, Nicholas felt something approaching hope. They understood. They saw what he'd always seen—that the future belonged to those who could master systems, not those who relied on inspiration.
"What would you need from me?"
"Your expertise, obviously. And your influence with the board. We understand you carry considerable weight among the institutional investors."
Howard slid another tablet across the table. "This is our preliminary offer. Two hundred million in cryptocurrency—primarily stablecoins, but with some Bitcoin and Ethereum for growth potential. The funds would be held in smart contracts, released automatically once governance is properly established."
Nicholas stared at the screen. The numbers were staggering. "Cryptocurrency?"
"The future that Sebastian envisioned, executed with the precision he would have demanded." Chen leaned forward. "But more practically, it allows us to move quickly. Traditional banking would take weeks to process this kind of transaction, involve regulatory delays, compliance reviews. With cryptocurrency, we can have funds deployed within hours of your agreement."
"And the technical implementation?"
"Handled by our technology team. You don't need to understand the mechanics—you just need to understand that this represents real value, deployed with real oversight."
The presentation continued, showing institutional-grade protocols, diversified holdings, and risk management frameworks that would have impressed Sebastian himself. This wasn't crypto chaos—it was precision capital engineering.
"There's one more thing," Chen said, producing a sleek black card. "A consulting agreement, if you will. Five million in cryptocurrency, representing our commitment to your ongoing advisory role. Consider it a signing bonus for bringing decades of expertise to our partnership."
Nicholas picked up the card. It was heavier than he'd expected—real weight, representing real value. "This is..."
"Your stake in the future we're building together," Howard said. "That card represents a wallet containing five million in mixed cryptocurrencies. Institutional-grade storage, professionally managed. Each year, there is a stable and steadily increasing return from managed assets."
"Of course, we'd need your answer soon," Chen continued. "The market rewards decisiveness, and frankly, every day that passes with amateur management costs everyone money. We're not asking you to betray anyone, we're offering you a chance to rescue what they've left behind."
Nicholas looked at the photograph of Sebastian on his phone wallpaper. What would Sebastian have done? The old Sebastian—the one who'd built GDI from nothing, who'd made the hard choices, who'd understood that leadership meant sacrifice. If ANNA Grant had lived, there would have been no question. But fate had forced a choice that Sebastian had never needed to make.
"I'll need to think about it."
"Of course. But Nicholas?" Chen's voice carried quiet authority. "This offer represents a return to the principles that made GDI great. Professional management, systematic growth, rational decision-making. Everything Sebastian would have wanted if he'd been thinking as a CEO instead of a father."
After they left, Nicholas sat alone in the dining room, feeling lighter than he had in months. The black card sat beside his phone, representing not corruption but correction—a return to the path he'd always known was right.
He pulled out his phone and called Olivia. If he was going to do this, he'd need allies who understood the stakes.
"Nicholas? It's rather late."
"We need to talk. Are you free tomorrow morning?"
"Of course. What about?"
Nicholas looked at the card, feeling its reassuring weight.
"Olivia. We're done watching. It's time to act."
The voice on the other end of the line fell silent, then a man's voice whispered faintly in the distance.
"Nicholas, some things are more complicated than you think. I'll tell you everything when we meet tomorrow."
The line went dead. Nicholas stared at the phone screen, a new question rising in his mind.
Just how many secrets were still hidden?
He tucked away the black card and walked toward the window. In the night sky over London, countless lights flickered—just like the endless interests and intrigues within the Sebastian empire.
Tomorrow, everything would change.