The Invisible God-Level Tycoon

Chapter 10

The boardroom at Miller Tech felt charged before the market opened. Polished marble floors reflected the light from the massive screen mounted on the front wall, where the live ticker flickered crimson and gold. The air was layered with expensive cologne, nervous laughter, and the faint tang of champagne already poured too early for victory.

Jason Miller stood near the head of the table, grinning as if he had already won. His navy-blue suit looked like a uniform of triumph, and his gold tie clip sparkled each time he gestured toward the display. Chloe sat farther down, the only one in white. Her back was straight, her expression unreadable, but her hands under the table were tense.

Jason tapped his smartwatch. “Markets open in ten minutes,” he said, his voice louder than necessary. “I hope everyone brought their congratulations. We’ve been sitting in the shadows of caution for too long. Today we take Miller Tech into the future.”

A few board members murmured approval. Some, like Richard Miller, nodded politely without conviction. Sarah, radiant in a scarlet dress, crossed her legs and gave Jason a bright, smug smile.

“You know, Chloe,” Sarah said sweetly, “maybe you’ll thank Jason later. He’s saving this family. He’s got vision. You’ve been far too cautious, always holding back.”

Chloe didn’t look at her. “Sometimes holding back keeps things from burning down.”

Jason laughed, uncorking another bottle. “You see, that’s the problem. Fear. You play defense while I play offense. That’s why you’re losing your seat today.” He poured champagne into his glass, watching the bubbles rise. “Do any of you know what it feels like to bet on something that’ll change history? Bio-Tech Global isn’t just a company. It’s a revolution in medicine. A cure for diseases that cripple human potential. And we are on the ground floor.”

The room erupted in soft applause. Even the older directors clapped, drawn in by his confidence.

Only Chloe stayed still. “Jason,” she said quietly, “have you reviewed the lab certificates yourself? The board data? The actual trial numbers?”

He looked at her like she had asked if he believed in gravity. “Of course not personally. That’s what experts are for. They’ve all checked out. You think I’d risk fifty million without proof?”

Her eyes lingered on him. “You’ve made mistakes before thinking you understood something because someone told you what you wanted to hear.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Save the lectures. You already tried to warn me. But this is bigger than you. You said yourself this company needed a bold move. I made one.”

Chloe folded her hands. “Sometimes bold is just another word for blind.”

Sarah smirked. “Oh please. If you were any colder, Chloe, you’d freeze the stocks.”

The digital clock on the wall changed: 10:29 a.m.

Several board members leaned forward. The display switched to the live broadcast feed, where a panel of financial analysts gleefully discussed Bio-Tech Global’s historic morning. One of them compared the company to early-day pharmaceutical giants. A ticker ran across the bottom of the screen showing BTG: 147.32 ▲ 6.1% Pre-market.

Jason chuckled under his breath. “Not even open yet and it’s already climbing. Don’t blink, folks.”

He took a confident sip of champagne. That instant, the screen flickered. The analyst on television suddenly paused mid-sentence as his earpiece received new information. His expression changed from cheerful to alarmed.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the anchor said, “but we’re getting breaking news about Bio-Tech Global. Reports are coming in from the Securities and Exchange Commission regarding an active investigation into falsified medical data…”

The words hung heavy. The hum of air conditioning filled the silence. Jason froze, glass halfway to his lips.

“…multiple whistle-blowers have come forward, confirming that laboratory results supporting Bio-Tech’s primary drug were fabricated. The company’s financial auditors have reportedly resigned within the last hour. Trading may be suspended pending confirmation.”

The analyst’s voice grew faint as the boardroom wall went utterly still. Then the ticker at the bottom blinked red. BTG: 132.00 ▼ 10.4% Pre-market.

Chloe did not move. Every head turned toward Jason.

He forced a smile, though his face had gone a shade paler. “It’s a temporary dip,” he said quickly. “These reports happen all the time before huge announcements. Panic sellers. Give it five minutes.”

The board members looked at each other uneasily. One of them cleared his throat. “Uh, Jason… if this is true—”

“It’s not true,” Jason snapped. “Someone’s manipulating the market. Probably that New York group that shorted SolarGen last year.”

The television volume climbed again as the broadcast continued. A new headline rolled across the screen in bold red letters: SEC Launches Immediate Probe into Bio-Tech Global Ponzi Allegations.

Sarah set her champagne down, the base of the glass clinking against the wood table. “Jason,” she whispered, “what does that mean?”

Jason’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He grabbed his tablet, swiping through the trading app with frantic speed. The share price was plunging faster now—numbers melting like wax: 112.40, 96.00, 72.50.

The first scream came from one of the junior associates monitoring the family’s private fund. “Sir! The margin accounts are triggering automatic sell orders! The collateral on your Miller Tech shares—it’s being recalled!”

Jason’s composure fractured like glass. “Override it! Stop the trade!”

“Sir, we can’t—our brokerage locked us out. The stock is crashing too fast.”

On screen, the panelists were now openly debating whether Bio-Tech’s CEO would face criminal charges. Each sentence landed like a nail driven into the coffin.

Chloe watched quietly, her fingers intertwined, knuckles white. Her heart was pounding, not with joy, but with confirmation. Somewhere, she knew Alex had predicted this down to the minute.

Jason slammed the tablet onto the table so hard it bounced. “This can’t happen! It was supposed to triple!”

“Jason,” his father said finally, voice hollow, “how much did you put in?”

Jason’s eyes darted around. “Just… my private fund. A little capital. We can recover. It’s just a dip.”

The associate spoke again, higher this time, voice cracking. “Sir, it’s not a dip. It’s gone. The fund’s wiped clean.”

Jason looked at the screen one more time. BTG: 0.00 ▼ 100%. Trading Halted.

The color drained completely from his face. Champagne slipped from his hand, the glass tumbling in slow motion before it shattered across the marble floor.

He stared down at the sparkling ruins at his feet, the bubbles fizzing into silence, the echo of his loss filling the boardroom.

Fifty million dollars and the family’s private savings—gone.