2026-10-25 18:06:33
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195. Tuesday
Chris continued playing his game till midnight and went to sleep.It had been a long day and a boring one save for the call he had received from Hargrove.Now he was not scared of Hargrove anymore. At first, he was a little frightened because he knew that Hargrove could easily get to him because he was still a student of the school. He could be tracked down from school or even harmed when he went to school. That was the exact reason they had decided to suspend everything they were doing and wait until Chris was done with his school.Now, finally, he was done with school, and he was no longer going to be seen in school, so he was safer from the side.He knew Hargrove had been happy when he immediately withdrew the suit and had thought he had won and everything was over from where he stood.But now, Hargrove could not find him, and the only thing he could do was to call and threaten again, hoping Chris would give up again since he had no access to Chris directly.Chris heaved a sigh as
194. The Third Call
Chris woke up the next day quite earlyHe had nowhere to be that day, and so he didn't go out; instead, he stayed indoors the whole dayThat was still an unusual thing to sit with.He made his tea in the morning and checked the market. Bitcoin had moved slightly upward overnight, holding above forty thousand, the dividend positions performing steadily.Then he was simply in his apartment with the day in front of him.He played games for a while. He made a proper breakfast. He read for an hour at the study desk, one of the financial books he had been working through, annotating margins in a way he hadn't allowed himself to do during exam preparation.By midday he had settled into the comfortable restlessness of someone who was genuinely not busy for the first time in months and was making friends with the feeling.He was on the sofa when his phone rang.He looked at the screen.Private number.He sat up.The trap phone, which was sitting on the cushion beside him as always. He picked
193. Next Moves
"Before we go further on the agency," Sandra said, "let us do it properly."She looked at the laptop screen, then at Chris."I will write up the full structural outline, everything we discussed, the agency model, the operational framework, the employment structure, and the trust's role. Every component with its associated cost categories." She set her pen to the notepad. "When that is done, we send the document to Marcus Webb and the fund management team. They review it, cost it out, and give us a realistic capital estimate and a deployment timeline." She looked at him. "Once we know the actual numbers, not estimates, actual figures, we have a real conversation about documentation and setup sequence.""That makes sense," Chris said. "I don't want to start registering anything before I know what the full picture looks like.""Exactly," Sandra said. "The agency needs to be built in the right order. Legal structure first, then office and garage, then fleet acquisition. If you front-l
192. The Plan
Chris gamed until midnight.He was too exhausted to think of cooking, so he paused for a few minutes to order some takeout to be delivered to him in the flat.The takeout was a burger and fries from a place two streets from Carver Flats that he had discovered the previous week. He ate it at the coffee table while a driving game ran on screen, which felt appropriately thematic given what he was planning.He slept thirty minutes after midnight.He was up at nine, dressed by nine-twenty, in a cab by nine-thirty.He headed to Sandra’s office that morningSandra's office building. Fifth floor. The receptionist recognised him now, a brief nod that was a confirmation that Sandra was in. He was now a regular visitor in the building.He went through.Sandra was at her desk with her morning coffee. Jessica's inner office door was half-open, and she appeared within thirty seconds of hearing Chris come in, her own coffee in hand, the professional instinct of someone who had learned that Chris arr
191. The New Idea
Chris got home from Sandra’s office.The apartment was quiet.Chris sat on the sofa for the first hour after he got back and did nothing in particular. This was new for him. For all these years, there had always been a next thing, a meeting, a class, a court date, a message to send, a recording to review, a school attendance or one thing after another. The structure had been so constant that its absence felt almost physical and boring too.He always had one thing or the other to do, but now, he had nothing to do in particular.By three in the afternoon he was restless.He stood up. Walked to the kitchen, made tea, and walked back. Sat at the study desk. Opened his laptop, closed it, and opened it again.He was nineteen years old. He had no school. He had no job. He had a full criminal legal operation running through Sandra's office, a scholarship fund under his ownership, a portfolio that didn't require monitoring every hour. The fund managers handled the investments. Marcus Webb hand
190. Filed
"Now, we have to request a second audit," Sandra said. She was writing as she spoke, the list building on the page in front of her. "I will contact the audit team today. The query is specific: cross-reference the billing records for the full ten-year period against any student who was formally removed from the scheme, and identify which removal dates show continued billing after the fact." She looked at Chris. "They have all the data already. It is an analytical query, not a fresh data collection. They can move quickly.""And Virell's own records?" Chris asked. "The actual enrolment lists the school holds; those would also show who was removed and when.""That is the complication," Sandra said. "Hargrove is still at the school. We can request records through the fund's new management authority; we have that right, but anything passing through the school's administration goes past Hargrove first." She paused. "Which means we risk the records being adjusted before we receive them
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