And there was Braden Cole, who despite his incompetence, was still on the board because his father owned 10% of the company. When Braden saw Elena, he choked on his coffee. You have got to be kidding me, Braden sputtered. Julian, this is a joke, right? You brought the help to a strategy meeting.
Trent Davis leaned back, spinning a pen. Julian, we have the SEC breathing down our necks about the Biogen shorts. We don't have time for your charity projects.
Julian stood at the head of the table. "Everyone, shut up." The room went quiet.
"This is Elena Vance. She is my new senior strategy consultant. Anything she says comes directly from me. If you question her, you question me."
"Consultant?" Trent scoffed. Does she even have a license? Does she know what a derivative is?
Elena didn't wait for Julian to defend her. She walked to the white board, picked up a marker, and uncapped it. Trent, isn't it? Elena asked, not looking at him.
I reviewed your risk model for the upcoming quarter this morning. That's confidential data, Trent snapped. "How did you—"
"You're betting heavily on the semiconductor shortage ending by Q3." Elena wrote a complex equation on the board in rapid-fire strokes. You're using a linear regression model based on 2019 supply chain data. She turned around. That's lazy, Trent.
You forgot to account for the neon gas shortage coming out of Ukraine. Without neon, there are no lasers. Without lasers, there are no chips. Your model isn't just wrong. It's going to cost this company 12% of its liquidity in 6 weeks.
Trent's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He looked at the math on the board. It was flawless. It was brilliant. It was math he hadn't seen since his doctoral thesis.
Who are you? Sarah Jenkins asked, her eyes narrowing, calculating. I'm the person who is going to save your bonuses, Elena said, capping the marker. She tossed it onto the mahogany table. It spun and stopped pointing at Braden.
Now, Elena said, taking the seat at the opposite end of the table from Julian, the power position. We have a problem. Julian's short position on Biogen is covered thanks to the tip I gave him on Friday. We lost nothing. But the market smells blood.
They think Thorne Capital is unstable. "So, we issue a press release," Braden suggested. "No," Elena said. "We go on the offensive. We buy Biogen."
The room exploded. "Buy them?" Trent yelled. "Are you insane? We were shorting them on Friday."
If we buy them now, it looks like market manipulation. "It looks like a pivot," Elena corrected calmly. The FDA approval is real. The stock is going to triple. If we acquire a controlling stake before the market closes today, we ride the wave up.
We turn a near miss disaster into the most aggressive acquisition of the year. It shows strength. It shows Julian Thorne isn't afraid.
She looked at Julian. "Do you trust me?" It was the question that hung in the air. This was a billion-dollar gamble. If she was wrong, if the FDA approval snagged, if the SEC investigated, Thorne Capital would be deleted.
Julian looked at Elena. He saw the fire in her eyes. He remembered the rain in Queens. He remembered the ghost of Liberty Street. "Do it," Julian said.
Julian, Trent stood up. You can't listen to her. She's a nobody. "I said, do it," Julian roared, slamming his hand on the table. Trent, execute the buy order.
Leverage our cash reserves. All of it. If this goes south, Trent hissed, typing furiously on his laptop. I'm testifying against you.
If this goes south, Elena said coolly. I'll go back to waiting tables. But you, Trent, you'll be unhirable.
For the next six hours, the room was a war zone. Elena directed the trades like a conductor. She anticipated market fluctuations before they appeared on the screen. She knew exactly when the high-frequency trading bots would kick in and how to bypass them. At 3:55 p.m., 5 minutes before the closing bell, the news broke.
Biogen announced FDA approval for a groundbreaking heart medication. The stock surged 200%. "We're up," Sarah Jenkins whispered, staring at the screen. "My God, we're up $300 million." The room erupted.
Analysts were high-fiving. Even Trent looked stunned, staring at Elena with a mixture of hatred and respect. Julian didn't cheer. He watched Elena. She didn't smile.
She just let out a long, slow breath and leaned back in her chair. She had done it. She had proved she belonged.
Julian walked over to her. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He wanted to hug her, to shake her, to kiss her. He didn't know which. "You were incredible," he said, his voice low so only she could hear.
"I was doing my job," Elena said, though a small smile touched her lips. Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the conference room swung open. A team of lawyers in gray suits marched in. Behind them walked a man who sucked the oxygen out of the room. He was in his 50s with silver hair and a smile that looked like a jagged wound.
Marcus Sterling. The room went dead silent. "Julian, my boy," Sterling boomed, spreading his arms. "Excellent work on Biogen. Truly inspiring."
Julian stepped in front of Elena, shielding her instinctively. "What are you doing here, Marcus? You don't have an appointment." "I don't need one."
Sterling grinned. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a document. As of 10 minutes ago, Sterling Global acquired a 15% stake in Thorne Capital from your silent partners, added to what I already own. That makes me the majority shareholder.