Volume 5: Wall Street Rises Again
Volume Summary: Jack returns to Wall Street, only to find that things are far more complex than he imagined. Richard's remaining influence still lingers, and a far greater conspiracy awaits him. He must proceed with extreme caution if he is to eliminate these threats and restore order to Wall Street.
Chapter 6: The Leak
Jack's office was like a glittering gem suspended above the Manhattan skyline. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire city unfolded—Lady Liberty raising her torch, the glowing lights of Wall Street shimmering beneath the night sky, and the distant horn of ships drifting along the Hudson River. In the past, these sights had brought him a sense of peace and accomplishment. But now, they seemed almost mocking—mirroring the unease churning inside him.
Like a caged lion, Jack paced back and forth across the room. His polished shoes thudded softly against the priceless Persian rug, but even its luxurious texture couldn't soothe the storm raging in his mind.
"Illegal money laundering, stock manipulation… they've gone completely rogue," Mark muttered, uncharacteristically agitated. Usually composed and impeccably dressed, the sharp lawyer had loosened his tie, mussed his hair, and rubbed his temples with tired fingers. His piercing eyes, usually full of confidence, were now bloodshot and shadowed by stress.
"It's those emerging tech companies we need to worry about most," Jack said, stopping at the window. Hands clasped behind his back, he stared into the darkness as if seeing beyond it. "If they establish themselves in the capital markets, they'll spread like a virus and eventually take control of Wall Street itself. When Richard was around, it was just financial fraud—dirty, yes, but manageable. Now they're using high-tech methods to launder money and manipulate markets. That's not just corruption—it's an evolution of crime."
He turned sharply, his gaze slicing through Mark like a blade. "We need to strike faster, harder, and more precisely than ever before. Mark, what's the status on the shell company investigation and tracing the money flow?"
Mark exhaled heavily, weariness etched into his face. "I've used every resource I have—even called in favors from Switzerland. These shell companies are registered everywhere—from the Cayman Islands and the Bahamas to Vanuatu. It's going to take time and manpower to track them down. And whoever set this up covered their tracks well. There's no direct evidence linking the final beneficiaries to them yet. As for the smaller tech firms? They all appear financially unstable, near bankruptcy, or deeply in debt. On paper, there's no obvious connection between them."
Just then, the office door burst open. Isabella stormed in, her face pale, sweat beading on her forehead. Her designer Italian heels clicked rapidly against the polished wood floor, betraying her panic. Gone was her usual poise—her makeup was smudged, her lips colorless, her composure shattered.
"Jack! Something's wrong—something really bad!" she gasped, breathless and frantic. "It's about the chip deal investigation… someone leaked the information! We've been compromised!"
Jack froze mid-step, his body rigid as if struck by lightning. The air in the room instantly thickened, charged with tension so intense it felt suffocating. He took a slow, measured breath, trying to suppress the fury bubbling inside him. A leak—his worst nightmare, and potentially catastrophic.
"Is the source confirmed?" Jack asked coldly, his voice devoid of emotion, mechanical in its precision. He kept his expression blank, hiding the chaos brewing within.
"Yes! Multiple channels in the underground network reported it. Someone is actively spreading the news—we're investigating Universal Investments and those tech firms. Worse yet…" Isabella hesitated, fear flashing in her eyes. "They know we have partial intelligence from Emily. They know we're onto them."
Mark paled. "That's impossible! Only a handful of people knew about this—no more than five! Are you saying… one of us is a traitor?!"
Jack's eyes swept over both of them like a predator scanning prey. He trusted them—had fought beside them through hell—but he couldn't afford blind loyalty. Betrayal was as common in Wall Street as oxygen—silent, invisible, and deadly.
"Isabella, can you trace the leak? Even the smallest clue?" Jack demanded, calm but commanding.
She shook her head, frustration and helplessness twisting her delicate features. "Whoever did this is professional—covered their tracks perfectly. My team has tried everything, but it's like chasing shadows. One thing's certain: the leak came from within our inner circle. Someone with access to top-level intel… possibly even among the three of us."
Jack clenched his fists, the knuckles cracking audibly, veins rising on the back of his hands. He knew the consequences could be fatal. Richard's remnants would accelerate their operations, move funds, destroy evidence—and worse, retaliate. They were exposed, vulnerable targets now.
He walked slowly back to the window, staring down at the glittering city below. New York's night was seductive and full of promise, but also teeming with unseen dangers. The blinking lights below looked like eyes watching him—cold, calculating, and hostile.
"Mark, activate the contingency plan immediately," Jack ordered, his voice low but firm. "Relocate everyone involved in the investigation—including Emily. We need a secure location to reassess the situation and prevent any further damage."
He turned to Isabella, his expression hardening. "You use every contact, every resource, every damn trick you have. I want that mole found—no matter the cost. And when I do, they will pay for this betrayal with everything they have."
"Jack…" Isabella's voice wavered with concern. She had never seen him like this—so cold, so ruthless.
Jack smiled—a slow, icy smirk that sent shivers down her spine. "Remember, we're not the privileged elites who hide behind desks. We're not analysts who press buttons without consequence. We clawed our way out of hell. We rebuilt ourselves from nothing. Nothing—not even betrayal—will break us."
He strode to the antique desk, pulled a Cuban cigar from an ornate box, and lit it with a custom lighter. The red glow flickered in the dark as the smoke curled into the air, though its scent did little to ease the tension in the room. In the haze, Jack's face appeared sharper, colder, his eyes burning with vengeance.
"They're going to learn the hard way," he said quietly, his voice laced with venom. "That crossing Jack Chen was the stupidest—and last—mistake they ever made."
The night deepened, the city's noise growing louder—sirens, honking cars, music from distant bars. Beneath the surface, a silent war had begun. Jack knew this wasn't just about power or money anymore. It was about survival. About pride. About revenge against those who thought they could destroy him.
Standing before the glass, he exhaled another puff of smoke. As it faded, only his piercing gaze and hardened expression remained—etched in fire, ready to strike.