The Gilded Rebirth of Alexander Wirakusuma

chapter 5

The weight of the silence in the penthouse was suffocating, broken only by the frantic, uneven rhythm of Aurelia’s breathing. Alexander slowly unwound his arms from her, his touch lingering just a second too long on her shoulders before he stepped back into the shadows of the living room.

"You should probably go, Aurelia," Alexander said, his voice terrifyingly casual as he checked the time on his watch. "The markets are going to be a bloodbath by dawn, and I imagine Max is going to need someone to hold his hand while he watches his net worth evaporate."

Aurelia’s face was a mask of pale shock, her lips trembling. "Alex, you’re… you’re scaring me. This isn't you. Since when do you gamble with the company’s entire liquidity on a currency short? If this backfires, we lose everything."

"I didn't gamble, Aurelia. I invested in a certainty," Alexander replied, walking toward the balcony doors. "And don't worry about 'us' losing everything. My personal funds are quite safe. It’s the people who bet against me who should be checking their bank balances."

"I’m calling a doctor," she whispered, her hand fumbling for her phone. "You’ve had a breakdown. Firing Dorian, trashing the merger, and now this? You’re not well."

Alexander didn't even look back. "Tell Max I said hi. And tell him to enjoy the coffee tomorrow. It’s going to be a very, very bitter cup."

She fled. The sound of her heels clicking frantically across the marble floor echoed until the heavy front door slammed shut. Alexander stood alone in the dark, the city lights reflecting in the glass like a sea of burning embers.

He didn't have long to savor the silence. Scarcely five minutes after Aurelia left, the private elevator chimed again. This time, the doors didn't just open; they seemed to explode outward as a woman in a crimson power suit marched into the room, her eyes blazing with enough fury to level a skyscraper.

"You absolute, utter moron!"

Alexander turned, a genuine, bittersweet smile touching his lips for the first time. "Hello, Clarissa. I figured you’d be on the first flight back from Singapore once the news hit."

Clarissa Wiraatmaja, his younger sister and the only person in his first life who had tried to warn him about Maximilian, didn't stop until she was inches from his face. She threw her designer handbag onto the sofa with a violent thud.

"Don't you 'Hello, Clarissa' me! I just spent six hours on a private jet fielding calls from every panicked shareholder on the board! What the hell are you doing, Alex? I leave for three months to handle the regional expansion and I come back to find you’ve turned into a corporate suicide bomber!"

"You look good," Alexander said, leaning against the kitchen island. "Singapore suited you. The humidity did wonders for your skin."

"Stop it! Right now!" Clarissa shouted, her voice cracking. "I just ran into Aurelia in the lobby. She was crying, Alex. She said you’ve lost your mind, that you’re hallucinating billions in profits while you destroy our father’s legacy. Why did you fire Dorian? He was the only one keeping the old guard in line!"

"Dorian was a leech, Clarissa. He was selling us out for kickbacks on contaminated land deals."

Clarissa paused, her eyes narrowing. "What? Dorian? That man is a fossil, sure, but he’s loyal. He’s been with the family since before we were born."

"Loyalty has an expiration date when the price is right," Alexander said. "Sit down. You’re vibrating."

"I’m not sitting! I’m here to take you to a hospital or a lawyer, whichever one can stop you from signing anything else today. Do you have any idea what Max is planning? He’s already calling for an emergency session to have you declared unfit."

Alexander poured a glass of cold water and slid it across the counter toward her. "Let him call for it. By the time that meeting happens, I’ll be the only person in this city with enough cash to buy his soul and keep it in a jar."

Clarissa stared at him, her anger flickering into genuine confusion. "You’re serious. You actually think this currency trade is going to work? The Yen is the safest bet in Asia right now. Everyone is saying—"

"Everyone is wrong. Look at the screen, Sis."

He pointed to the massive wall-mounted monitor. The red candles were still plummeting. The Kyoto-Daimaru collapse had triggered a domino effect that was currently paralyzing the Tokyo exchange.

"Wait… is that live?" Clarissa moved closer to the screen, her jaw dropping. "That’s… that’s a twenty-percent drop in two hours. Alex, how? How did you know?"

"I pay attention to the things people ignore," Alexander lied smoothly, walking over to stand beside her. "The signs were there. Everyone was too busy looking at the sunshine to notice the storm clouds."

Clarissa turned to him, her expression guarded. "Okay, let’s say you’re a genius and you just made a billion dollars. Why the scorched-earth policy with the board? You could have handled Dorian quietly. Now you’ve made enemies of everyone Max can influence."

"Because 'quietly' doesn't send a message," Alexander said, his voice softening as he looked at her. In his previous life, he had ignored Clarissa’s advice, siding with Max and Aurelia until he had eventually pushed his own sister out of the company. She had died in a car accident in Switzerland two years before his own demise, and he’d never even made it to the funeral. "I need you, Clarissa. Not the version of you that follows my lead, but the version that tells me when I’m being a fool. I’m sorry I haven't been listening lately."

Clarissa blinked, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his tone. "Who are you and what have you done with my arrogant brother? You haven't apologized to me since you broke my doll when I was six."

"I’m just tired of trusting the wrong people," he said.

"Does that include Aurelia?" Clarissa asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You’ve been obsessed with her for years. Now she’s downstairs acting like you’re a monster."

"Aurelia is the architect of the trap I’m currently dismantling," Alexander said. "She’s been feeding our internal audits to the Lestari family for two years."

Clarissa’s glass hit the counter with a sharp clack. "You’re lying. She’s too… she’s not smart enough for that."

"She’s smarter than both of us combined when it comes to manipulation," Alexander countered. "But she’s sloppy with her digital footprint. I’ll show you the logs tomorrow. For now, I need you to do something for me. Something only you can handle."

"Oh, here we go," Clarissa sighed, though her posture relaxed slightly. "What is it?"

"Elodie Puspaningtyas. She’s hosting that charity gala on Saturday, isn't she?"

Clarissa frowned. "The ‘Blue Diamond’ gala? Yeah, why? You hate those things. You always say they’re just an excuse for socialites to compare plastic surgeons."

"I need an invitation. And I need Elodie to be on our side. She has the ear of the Finance Minister, and more importantly, she knows exactly which board members are sleeping with whose secretaries. I need intel, Clarissa. The kind you can’t get from a spreadsheet."

"You want me to go ‘Mean Girls’ for you?" Clarissa let out a short, dry laugh. "I can do that. Elodie and I are actually on good terms. I helped her cover up that scandal with her nephew last year. She owes me."

"Good. Get the invite. And tell her I’m looking to make a ‘significant donation’ to her foundation."

Clarissa sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. But Alex… if you’re wrong about this, if you’re just having some kind of manic episode… I’m the one who’s going to have to bury you. You know that, right?"

"I’m not going to die this time, Clarissa," Alexander said, the double meaning lost on her. "I promise."

The moment was shattered by the shrill, persistent ringing of Alexander’s phone. It wasn't Maximilian this time. It was Everett, his legal bulldog.

Alexander swiped to speaker. "Everett. It’s late for a victory lap."

"It’s not a victory lap, Alex," Everett’s voice was tense, the sound of papers rustling in the background. "We’ve got a problem. A big one."

Clarissa stepped closer, her face tensing up again. "What happened?"

"The Directorate General of Taxes just served a notice of immediate audit and asset freezing on the Wirakusuma Group’s primary accounts," Everett said. "They’re alleging massive tax evasion and 'suspicious offshore movement' tied to the Yen trade you just executed."

"That’s impossible," Clarissa snapped. "Those trades haven't even settled yet! How could the tax office even have a file on this?"

"They didn't just 'have' a file," Everett replied. "Someone hand-delivered a whistleblower report with internal ledger codes. Codes that only five people in the company have access to. Max is already on the news, Alex. He’s standing in front of the office right now, playing the ‘shocked and devastated’ partner. He’s distancing himself, saying he’s cooperating fully with the authorities to 'save the company from a rogue CEO.'"

Alexander felt a cold chill settle in his gut, but it wasn't fear. It was a realization.

"They’re moving faster than I expected," Alexander muttered. "They’re trying to lock the funds before I can use them to buy back the board’s shares."

"Alex, if they freeze the accounts, you can't pay the margins on your short," Clarissa said, her voice rising in panic. "The trade will collapse. You’ll lose the billion and the company!"

"Who has the codes, Everett?" Alexander asked, his voice deathly quiet.

"You, me, Clarissa, Max, and… the administrative server in your study," Everett said. "But that server is air-gapped, Alex. No one can get into it without being physically in the room."

Alexander’s gaze drifted across the room, landing on the mahogany side table where a silver tray sat. On it was a pot of tea and two cups—one he had finished, and one that had been brought in earlier by the household staff.

He walked over to the tray. The tea was cold now. He looked at the way the napkins were folded—a specific, intricate pattern that only one person in his house used.

"Nadia didn't bring this up," Alexander whispered.

"What?" Clarissa asked, following him. "What are you looking at?"

"The housekeeper," Alexander said, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a tiny, blinking red light hidden beneath the lip of the silver tray. It was a high-frequency transmitter. "Siti. She’s been with us for six years. Her daughter’s university tuition… Max paid for it, didn't he?"

He picked up the tray and flipped it over. Taped to the bottom was a slim, professional-grade listening device and a signal booster.

"He’s not just listening," Alexander realized, his heart hammering. "She wasn't just cleaning the study. She was the one who let Aurelia in to bypass the biometric lock."

Clarissa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "You have a mole in your own bedroom?"

Alexander looked at the device, then slowly looked up at his sister. The predatory smile returned, but this time, it was laced with a dark, vengeful satisfaction.

"He thinks he’s trapped me," Alexander said, his thumb hovering over the transmitter. "He thinks he’s used my own home against me."

"Alex, what are we going to do? The tax office will be here in the morning!"

Alexander crushed the device in his palm. "Let them come. If Max wants to play the whistleblower, we’ll let him. But he forgot one thing."

"What?"

"In a house full of mirrors," Alexander said, "the person who knows where they’re hidden is the only one who doesn't get lost."

He turned back to his phone. "Everett, call the Minister of Finance. Tell him I have something he’ll find much more interesting than my tax returns. Tell him I have the real ledger for the Lestari family’s offshore holdings—the ones Max has been using to launder Dorian’s kickbacks."

"Do you actually have that?" Everett asked.

"I will by sunrise," Alexander said. "Clarissa, cancel your plans for tomorrow. We’re going shopping for a new housekeeper. And after that? We’re going to watch a kingdom fall."