Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 85: Minor Rise

Sandy's jaw clenched. She sat stiffly in her chair, her fingers pressed into fists as her head lowered in disappointment and heartbroken answer.

"A job?" she whispered. "A job?"

He had just asked her if she wanted a job.

Was that what he thought of her? That she was wasting his time? That she should just go find something to do instead of bothering him?

Her throat tightened. Unbelievable.

"You know what?" she said, voice flat but laced with irritation. "Forget I even came here."

Darren blinked, confused. "Wait, what?"

Sandy shook her head, letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "I came here to talk to you — to actually talk — and you're just... what? Asking me to get a job? Are you serious? So I'm a joke to you?"

Darren straightened in his seat, hands coming up slightly as if trying to pacify her. "Okay, hold on. That's not what I meant at all."

"Really? Because that's exactly what it sounded like."

Her eyes burned as she looked away, staring at the café's cobblestone pavement as if it held all the answers.

Darren exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Mrs Meyers, come on..."

"Call me Sandy!" she cut him off. "You've been calling me Sandy. Why are you calling me Miss Meyers now?"

Darren frowned, utterly confused.

"Ugh!" Sandy squeezed her face with one hand, looking even more frustrated. "Forget it," she muttered. She pushed back her chair, standing abruptly. "I think coming here was a mistake."

Darren reached out instinctively. "Sandy—"

But she was already turning away, leaving before he could even finish the sentence.

He stood and watched her disappear behind the walls, not certain if going after her was the best of ideas.

Darren sighed, falling back in his chair.

I don't get it.

Was it just her? Or were all women like this when they got mad?

To be fair, Darren had only ever had real experience with one woman before; Lily. And she was direct when she was pissed. If she was angry, she'd just tell him outright.

She would yell, throw things, ignore him or stay away for a very long time.

But Sandy? It was like she was confused and was trying not to get mad at him even though she already was. And that ended up making her even angrier.

'She got even angrier because I offered her a damn job.'

Darren rubbed his fingers on his temple, shaking his head.

Today was supposed to be a serious day. Instead, he had spent most of it navigating the complexities of the feminine gender.

His buzzing phone interrupted his thoughts.

Darren pulled out the phone from his pockets and stared at it.

A flood of notifications filled his screen. CryptoTracker was buzzing like a damn beehive.

His brows furrowed.

There had been a minor rise in Bitcoin. It was a very minor one, so the system didn't really account for it. But as always, the CryptoTracker community had a talent for blowing things out of proportion.

Darren scrolled through the madness.

—"Bitcoin is the most unpredictable shit on earth, I swear to God."

—"Made a good buck this time! Who else held strong?!"

—"Hey! I'm selling. Who wants to buy! Send a text!"

—"Everyone's selling?! Who the hell is buying?!"

—"I'm just here to watch the circus unfold."

Darren let out an uninterested sigh. 'This mad house always has people yapping and talking about the slightest change in Bitcoin Prices.'

'They have no idea what is coming in the future.'

Another notification came in, and it was the announcement of the Investor of the Week, won by ScottishPanda – Adam Scotland, with the previous title holder being TammyStone – Tamara Johnstone.

Under that announcement, there were also a lot of comments.

—"SCOTTISHPANDA IS A LEGEND!"

—"Tamara had a good run, but Adam is great at this stuff."

—Hey, what about Duckling?

—"FuglyDuckling, why haven't you sold your portfolio yet?!"

—"Dumbass is just sitting on gold and not cashing in."

—"Trust the genius, he knows what he's doing."

Darren's eyes narrowed slightly at that last one. Ah, some people at least acknowledge my mastermind.

He could have sold. He could have made an easy withdrawal and taken a solid profit. But that wasn't how this worked.

Timing was everything.

Bitcoin was an unpredictable beast, but patterns existed, one just had to be smart enough to recognize them.

Selling at the first sign of a rise? Amateur move. That's what most people did, and that's why they always ended up regretting it.

Darren held on because he understood something that most people didn't:

Liquidity was king.

When Bitcoin plummeted hard last month and then skyrocketed moments later, it had been the perfect time to invest. In theory.

But here was the problem though; Who was selling at that exact moment?

Who says he would have had enough time to find enough buyers to buy as much as needed so he could make as much gain as he did?

Usually, the system speedran sellers to purchase Bitcoin, but even then, it would always tell him to wait while processing.

By the time his buy orders would have gone through? The price had already surged.

Too risky. Too unpredictable.

That's why he played the game differently. Precise. Calculated. Cautious.

If he was going to sell, it would be when the market was primed for it. Not just because a few loudmouths in the comment section were impatient.

Darren's eyes moved to the account profile under the page.

It was the FuglyDuckling profile.

His eyes darkened with thought.

Should he just accept it?

Verify the account? Link it to his email and finally step into the light?

The system did tell him that it was time to come out of the shadows.

And keeping secrets like this was already hurting his relationship with Sandy. He hadn't even told Rachel either.

His thumb hovered over the "Verify Account" button.

Then he pulled back. Not yet.

Instead, he sunk the phone in his pocket, and took out some cash, leaving a tip on the app for the waiter at Castle Cottage.

As he left, the young waitress, Penelope Castle, watched him with intrigue.

Darren stepped out of the gate, and moved towards his car. But before he could step into the street, the same formal black car rolled up to the curb in front of him.

Darren's eyes narrowed.

The tinted window lowered, and stepping out with pristine poise was none other than Amelia Forrest.

Darren exhaled, shaking his head. "How did you find me?"

Amelia held her hands together in front. "You have a very outstanding car, Mr. Steele," she said plainly. "In the sense that it stands out."

Darren glanced back at his car and grunted.

"Please," Amelia continued, stepping aside. "My boss would only like a moment of your time. If you'd simply follow me."

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Darren glanced at the large Toyota and then at her. "Is he in the car?" he asked.

"No." She smoothed down her jacket. "He's waiting for you in The Pendulum."

Darren raised a brow. "The Pendulum? Fancy place." He rolled his shoulders back, considering. "Alright then. I'll meet your boss."

Amelia's posture eased slightly. She hadn't been sure he would agree.

"But," he added, tilting his head, "I'm not getting in that car."

A flicker of confusion crossed her face. "Excuse me?"

"I'll meet your boss on one condition. You ride with me to the location."

That got a reaction. Her cheeks flushed, just slightly, and for the first time, she hesitated. "Mr. Steele, I don't think that's necessary."

Darren simply stared, a blank expression on his face. "That's my final offer."

Amelia shifted her weight, glancing briefly at the car behind her before finally exhaling. "Fine."

Darren gave a single nod. "Good." He stepped past her and opened the passenger door to his Aston Martin. He motioned toward the seat. "Get in."

Amelia hesitated for just a second before sliding in, her movements stiff and controlled. Apart from her boss, she'd never been exactly bossed around by another man.

Darren shut the door behind her and walked around to the driver's side, taking his time.

He glanced at the dark front window of the large Toyota and winked at the driver he couldn't see.

Then, he opened the car and slipped into his seat.

Amelia cleared her throat, either out of nervousness or because of the strong scent of his cologne.

Darren said nothing. He started the engine, and the air conditioner attempted to cool down the air that had turned thick with silence.

He gave her a side glance.

She was nervous. He could see it in the way she sat, back straight, hands folded neatly in her lap. Trying to look composed, but her fingers were just a little too still.

Darren didn't say a word. He let the silence stretch, let it settle.

Then he shifted into gear and pulled onto the road, smoothly guiding the Aston Martin toward one of the top five most expensive restaurants in the city.