Golden Eye Tycoon: Rise of the Billionaire Trader

Chapter 163: Fan Girl

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Chapter 163: Chapter 163: Fan Girl

The red tally light on Camera One stayed solid, casting a faint crimson glow over the glossy surface of the obsidian desk. Inside the control booth, Chloe kept her eyes fixed on the multi-screen monitor, her fingers resting lightly over the secondary audio override. Down on the floor, the heavy, calculated silence of the studio belonged entirely to Jake.

William Spade adjusted his posture, leaning slightly forward to bridge the distance between his nervous anticipation and Jake’s unyielding composure.

"Mr. Rivers," William began, his voice stabilizing as he found his rhythm. "The financial landscape of Veyra has been filled with speculation over the past few months. To the average citizen, your ascent feels almost instantaneous. You went from an unknown name to commanding a massive foundational portfolio, entering the board of Aurelia Capitals, and securing a massive stake in the Meridian Group. For those watching tonight who only know the recent numbers, who exactly was Jake Rivers before the markets took notice?"

Jake offered a polite, measured nod. His expression remained calm, his tone natural but completely devoid of casual familiarity.

"Before my current portfolio, my background was actually very ordinary, William," Jake said evenly. "I grew up in a standard middle-class household, closer to the lower end of that bracket. There were no institutional funds or massive safety nets. I stressed daily about cash just like most students. During my time at university, I worked part-time at a local gadget store to pay for my day-to-day expenses."

"A gadget store," William repeated, a genuine flash of surprise breaking through his professional mask. "That’s a stark contrast to a hundred-billion-mark asset baseline. Were you already looking toward the financial sectors during those times?"

"I was," Jake replied, keeping his hands resting loosely on the armrests. "Every bit of the salary that was left after deducting money for food and transport went directly into private trading accounts. And like most people who attempt to navigate the retail markets without institutional backing or good mentorship, I blew those accounts. Repeatedly. For a long time, the capital simply evaporated because I was learning the hard way."

---

Across the city, inside a brightly lit four-person dorm room at the Veyra Technological Institute, the broadcast was blaring from a desktop monitor propped up on a study desk.

"Shut up, shut up! He’s speaking!" Maya squealed, tossing a pile of textbooks off her bed and throwing herself onto the mattress. She gripped her pillow tightly against her chest, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen. "Look at him. The suit, the hair, the way he doesn’t even blink when that reporter tries to look smart. That is my husband. I am literally looking at my future."

Sitting at the desk, balancing a bowl of instant noodles on her lap, Tracy rolled her eyes so hard she nearly dropped her chopsticks. "Maya, please. He doesn’t know you exist, he doesn’tlive in the same world as us, and he’s rich enough to buy this entire university and turn it into a parking lot. Calm down."

"I don’t care about the parking lot, I care about the trajectory," Maya insisted, kicking her legs slightly. "He said he worked in a gadget store! He was literally a normal retail worker just a year ago. That means he appreciates the struggle. He’s self-made."

"He was a retail worker who turned out to have a hidden nine-billion-mark grandfather clause, Maya," Zoe, the room’s resident accounting major, called out from her upper bunk, not looking up from her phone. "Did you miss the corporate filing from last month? His family literally owns the Meridian Group. You’re living in a fantasy world. Besides, the internet forums already confirmed he has a girlfriend. There were photos of him leaving a private dinner in the upper district days ago."

"Forums can lie, and relationships are temporary," Maya muttered defensively, burying her face in the pillow but refusing to look away from the screen. "Look at that polite smile. He’s just being modest for the cameras. He’s perfect."

---

Back in the studio, William Spade leaned in, sensing the human-interest angle hitting its mark. "You mentioned blowing those accounts, Mr. Rivers. That’s a reality many retail traders face. What changed? How does someone go from losing retail deposits to clearing fifty million marks to buy a seat on the board of Aurelia Capitals?"

"Persistence, and a shift in focus," Jake said, his tone remaining polite but firm. "A few months before my graduation, I got hospitalised and ended up losing my job at the gadget store. And with the hospital bill weighing over my family, it was a point where the margin for error became zero. I stopped trying to trade every volatile instrument on the board and focused entirely on the gold market. I studied its liquidity, its structural mispricings, and its institutional volume."

"And your style?"

"Aggressive and luck," Jake stated flatly. "But disciplined. I took calculated risks on high-probability setups that the larger domestic banks ignored because their compliance frameworks were too rigid to move quickly enough. The profits from that specific window allowed me to buy myself a seat on the Aurelia Capitals board. "

"And Golden Investments?" William asked. "Many assume it’s a high-frequency trading firm, given your background."

"No," Jake clarified smoothly. "At first I had that thought but now Golden Investments is a private parent company. It handles asset acquisition, long-term infrastructure, and structural expansion. It is completely unlisted, and it doesn’t manage outside retail capital. My trading is simply the mechanism that generated the initial velocity."

---

In the high-end financial lounges and local brokerages near the Veyra Exchange, the tone was entirely different. The TVs were turned to Veyra One, but the traders weren’t looking at Jake’s face—they were looking at the live tickers running at the bottom of the screens.

The Meridian Group, being a publicly traded industrial giant that controlled the largest steel refinery in the country, was incredibly sensitive to any corporate governance shifts. The moment Jake mentioned his transition from a retail trader to an institutional force, the order books for Meridian stock began to fluctuate.

"He’s confirming the stability of his baseline," a senior broker muttered, his phone pressed to his ear as he watched the bid-ask spread on his terminal. "The market was worried he bought that sixteen percent stake just to liquidate it for quick cash. But look at his posture—he’s not talking like a speculator looking for an exit strategy. He’s talking like an owner."

"The volume is spiking," his assistant noted, typing furiously. "Meridian Group shares just ticked up by one point two percent in after-hours trading. If he drops any hints about the steel refinery’s upcoming expansion, the institutional buyers are going to flood the morning open."

"He won’t drop hints," the broker said, squinting at the television. "Look at the PR head standing in the shadows over there. That’s Golden Investments’ internal team. This entire segment is a calculated introduction. They are stabilizing his public profile before the next regulatory cycle."

---

Inside the quiet studio, William Spade guided the conversation toward the final major puzzle piece.

"The public was stunned when the filings revealed you had acquired sixteen percent of the Meridian Group, making you the third largest individual shareholder in a company that holds the backbone of our heavy industry," William said, leaning forward. "Your uncle, Darius Rivers, is the current CEO and holds a commanding fifty-three percent majority stake. Given your family’s intricate connection to the legacy of the company, many are wondering if this substantial acquisition is a prelude to an internal structural takeover. Do you intend to challenge that position and step in as the next CEO?"

Jake allowed a faint, polite expression to cross his features, though his eyes remained entirely cool.

"The Meridian Group is a listed entity with an established management structure, Mr. Spade," Jake replied smoothly. "My acquisition of that sixteen percent was a strategic investment based entirely on the intrinsic value of their industrial assets, particularly the refinery infrastructure. My relationship with my uncle is separate from corporate governance. My decisions at Golden Investments are driven strictly by market reality, not family sentiment."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle across the live feed.

"Darius Rivers has maintained a firm grip on the operations, and as the third largest shareholder, my priority is simply ensuring the company’s regional expansion remains unhindered by artificial bottlenecks. Golden Investments will support the Meridian Group’s growth where it aligns with our broader portfolio strategy."

William nodded, checking his notes as the floor manager gave him the five-minute signal from behind the lens. The young billionaire hadn’t given an inch of unapproved data, yet he had given the country exactly what it wanted—a clear, polite, and completely unyielding look at the face behind the hundred-billion-mark empire.

---

"We have just under four minutes remaining, Mr. Rivers," William said, smoothly transitioning as he glanced down at his glowing tablet. "I want to touch on the final pillar of your current market presence. Alongside your significant holdings in the Meridian Group, corporate filings indicate you retain a twenty percent stake in Aurelia Capitals. In recent weeks, Aurelia has expanded its baseline at an almost unprecedented rate, multiplying the value of that initial position into tens of billions of marks. How does that rapid institutional expansion tie into the long-term blueprint for Golden Investments?"

Jake shifted his gaze back to William, his expression steady and composed. "Aurelia Capitals operates under a highly specific structure. It is a force in Veyra because of the sheer weight of its leadership. There are five board members, each holding an equal twenty percent stake, and each backed by a major conglomerate. We all initially invested fifty million marks to establish the company’s foundational capital."

"An equal partnership among five titan backings," William murmured, visibly impressed by the breakdown. "It’s a terrifying concentration of corporate power. If I recall correctly, it was Adrian Vale who initially recognized your trajectory and invited you to meet the other members—Marcus Sheele, Leon Hart, and Noah Chen. How does a newcomer integrate into a room where every seat represents a national conglomerate?"

"The integration is purely mathematical, William," Jake replied politely, neutralizing the dramatic edge of the question. "Adrian Vale saw a mutual alignment of interest, and the introduction to Mr. Sheele, Mr. Hart, and Mr. Chen confirmed it. Aurelia Capitals identifies undervalued assets and provides the direct, rapid liquidity required to scale them before traditional institutions can react. Their current growth is simply a validation of what happens when five distinct industrial forces move in the same direction. Golden Investments maintains its position because the underlying fundamentals remain strong."

In the dimly lit control room, Chloe leaned forward, her fingers hovering a mere millimeter above the primary audio override switch. Her eyes darted across the real-time stream metrics. The digital viewer counter had long since bypassed the network’s previous record, the graph climbing into a vertical spike that strained the tower’s localized bandwidth.

"Spade handled the Aurelia name-drop well," Harrison Vance whispered from behind her, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. "Should we tell the floor manager to cut to a wide shot?"

"No," Chloe stated coldly, her voice entirely devoid of panic. "Jake anchored it perfectly. Mentioning the equal stakes and the fifty-million baseline grounds the narrative. It shows structure, not a rogue operation."

She watched the secondary monitor displaying the live social media feeds and broker chatrooms. The market sentiment analysis tool was flashing a steady, calm green. By framing Golden Investments as a private, non-speculative parent company and presenting himself as a disciplined, polite strategist rather than a volatile speculator, Jake was effectively defusing the regulatory bodies’ anxieties. He wasn’t an anomaly to be corrected; he was an institutional fixture they had to learn to live with.

Back on the main stage, the floor manager raised three fingers, signaling the final countdown sequence to William.

William caught the movement from the corner of his eye and adjusted his notes one last time. He looked directly across the obsidian table at the young billionaire, aiming for a clean, definitive conclusion.

"A final question, Mr. Rivers. For the millions of viewers tuning in across Veyra tonight—from retail investors trying to find their footing in the market to the citizens who rely on the stability of the Meridian Group’s refineries—what is the primary message you want the country to take away from the emergence of Golden Investments?"

Jake looked straight into the lens of Camera One. The faint crimson glow of the tally light reflected in his calm, unblinking eyes. His voice was quiet, polite, and absolute.

"Veyra is a market built on legacy frameworks," Jake said evenly. "Many believe that without institutional backing or generational permanence, growth is impossible. My presence here tonight is proof that the market responds to discipline and volume, not just heritage. Golden Investments is here to provide structural stability and long-term expansion. We aren’t looking to disrupt the core of Veyra’s industry; we are here to ensure it has the capital required to compete on a global baseline. Lastly, to traders out there, I have a small gift for you guys tomorrow morning. Make sure to check my LOOP account."

Jake paused, offering a concise, professional nod to the journalist. "Thank you for your time, William."

"And thank you, Mr. Rivers," William said, turning to address the primary camera as the closing theme music began to swell through the studio monitors. "That concludes our exclusive broadcast with Jake Rivers. For the Veyra Financial Chronicle, I’m William Spade. Good night."

"And... we’re clear!" the floor manager yelled, dropping his arms as the red tally lights flicked off simultaneously.

Instantly, the heavy silence on the floor shattered into a chaotic burst of movement. Production assistants rushed forward with clipboards, audio technicians began disconnecting cables, and Harrison Vance practically bolted out of the control booth to greet the executive team.

Jake stood up, smoothly buttoning his suit jacket. He didn’t wait for William to offer a post-show breakdown or for the producers to praise the record-breaking ratings. He turned toward the shadows of the wings, where Elias was already stepping forward to clear a direct line to the private exit.

Alice met them at the edge of the stage, her tablet already displaying the post-show clearing summary.

"The baseline is entirely stable, Mr. Rivers," Alice reported in a low voice as they walked briskly toward the private executive elevator alongside Chloe. "The Meridian Group after-hours volume has balanced at a healthy premium, and the initial feedback from the regulatory monitoring nodes shows no flags. You gave them exactly what they needed to see."

"Good," Jake said flatly, the elevator doors sliding open with a soft chime.

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