Chapter 253: Maya At It Again

Chapter 253: Chapter 253: Maya At It Again

A faint, knowing smile touched Jake’s lips as he noticed Mark’s brief hesitation. He walked forward, extending his hand.

"Mr. Thompson," Jake said calmly, his voice carrying the same unflappable weight Mark had heard through the receiver. "It’s good to finally put a face to the voice."

Mark quickly caught himself, stepping forward to grip Jake’s hand firmly. "Mr. Rivers. It is an absolute honor."

Jake gestured toward the glass conference table where the incorporation documents and legal ledgers were spread out. "I take it Joe Bright wasn’t too pleased with your departure?"

Mark let out a short, quiet laugh, shaking his head as he pulled out a leather executive chair. "That would be an understatement, Mr. Rivers. He threatened to sue me, begged me to come back, and then offered to sell Royal Aviation to you outright."

"Sell me his bankrupt firm?" Jake asked, amused as he took a seat at the head of the table. "He really is desperate."

"He realized too late that he had lost everything," Mark said, sitting down opposite Samuel Carter.

An hour ago, Mark was packing his life into a cardboard box under the shadow of a tyrant who treated him like an expense item. Now, he was sitting across from the most formidable figure in the financial sector, laying the groundwork for a brand-new firm.

Samuel Carter adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, unclipping a Montblanc pen and sliding the thick, bound legal stack toward Mark. The cover page bore the newly registered seal of the state corporate registry, bold and unyielding: [Rivers Aviation Ltd.]

"Before we execute the signature pages, Mark," Samuel began, his tone switching into the sharp, deliberate cadence of a senior corporate counsel, "I need to officially walk you through the primary governance covenants and capital allocation clauses governing your appointment."

Mark nodded, sitting up straight. "Please, Mr. Carter."

"Under Article One," Samuel stated, tapping the first section, "Golden Investments is injecting five hundred million marks in pure institutional equity as the initial operating capital for Rivers Aviation. There is zero debt leverage attached to this capital. The liquidity will be deposited directly into the primary clearing accounts at midnight to fund fleet acquisitions, hangar leases, global charter licensing, and operating reserves."

Mark’s breath hitched slightly. Five hundred million marks in day-one liquid equity. Royal Aviation had spent years struggling to maintain a fifty-million line of credit while interest payments ate them alive. Rivers Aviation was launching with half a billion marks in cold, unencumbered cash.

"Article Two details your equity structure," Samuel continued, turning the page. "You are being granted a twenty percent equity stake in Rivers Aviation, alongside your appointment as Chief Executive Officer. However, to align long-term strategic growth, these shares are subject to a five-year lock-in period. During these five years, the equity cannot be transferred, pledged, or sold."

"Understood," Mark agreed without hesitation. "That’s standard for institutional alignment. I’m here to build a operational powerhouse, not flip paper."

"Additionally," Samuel added, holding up a finger, "if you ever decide to liquidate or sell any portion of your stake after the five-year restriction lapses, Golden Investments holds the explicit Right of First Refusal. Any secondary sale must first be offered to Golden Investments under matched valuation terms."

"Fair," Mark said cleanly. "I wouldn’t want it going to outside corporate raiders anyway."

"And finally, Article Four: Operational Autonomy," Samuel said, looking over his glasses at Mark. "Golden Investments retains eighty percent majority ownership and board control, but as CEO, you are granted complete, absolute operational control over daily management, fleet acquisitions, broker recruitment, and client management. Golden Investments will maintain a strict hands-off policy regarding your executive decisions..." Samuel paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, "...provided the firm maintains operational profitability. If Rivers Aviation incurs sustained net operating losses over consecutive quarters, Golden Investments reserves the right to intervene in management."

Jake leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. "I don’t hire industry experts to micromanage them, Mark. You know how to run an aviation firm better than anyone in this city. Build the company, secure the best routes, hire the best brokers, and make it profitable. As long as the ledger stays green, the steering wheel is entirely yours."

Mark felt a surge of professional pride he hadn’t experienced in years. At Royal Aviation, Joe Bright had micromanaged every phone call, sabotaged broker splits, and wrecked client relationships out of sheer arrogance. Here, he was being handed a half-billion-mark war chest and total operational freedom.

"You won’t have to worry about operating losses, Mr. Rivers," Mark said, his voice brimming with ironclad resolve. "With this level of capitalization, we will dominate the regional institutional market within six months."

"Then let’s make it official," Samuel said, handing Mark the pen.

Mark took the pen, turning to the final execution page. He carefully signed his name across the CEO appointment line, the equity grant authorization, and the corporate charter. Samuel stamped the official legal notary seal onto the bottom corner, binding the agreement.

As Mark pushed the stack back to Samuel, a sudden thought crossed his mind.

"You know, Mr. Rivers..." Mark admitted with a faint smile, "as I was driving over here from the airport garage, it suddenly struck me how insane this entire hour has been. I agreed to resign from my firm, set up a brand-new entity, and take on the CEO seat of a multi-million-dollar company all over a phone call... without even verifying in person if I was truly speaking to Jake Rivers."

Jake leaned back in his leather chair, a calm, amused glint in his eyes. "That was a significant leap of faith, Mark. What made you so sure it wasn’t an impersonator?"

Mark looked directly at Jake.

"Because in this country, Mr. Rivers," Mark stated cleanly, "there isn’t a single person foolish enough to impersonate you—and even fewer who could materialize a fully capitalized aviation company in under two hours."

Jake let out a smooth chuckle. "Fair point."

Jake stood up, buttoning his suit jacket as Samuel gathered the executed documents. "Now that Rivers Aviation is officially registered, let’s get back to business. What is the status of my Bombardier Global 7500?"

Mark stood up instantly, his entire focus shifting into full executive mode.

"The Zurich inspection team has already been alerted," Mark reported confidently. "With our new clearing liquidity active, the escrow deposit will clear by midnight. The pre-flight checks and civil aviation clearances will be finalized tomorrow morning. I guarantee you, Mr. Rivers, your Global 7500 will be fueled, prepped, and waiting on the tarmac for your departure to Switzerland on Thursday evening."

Jake looked out at the glowing city lights, his expression calm and unreadable.

"Excellent," Jake said softly. "Make it happen, Mark."

---

While the ink was drying on the half-billion-mark corporate charter inside Apex Plaza, an entirely different kind of chaos was unfolding across the city at the Veyra Technological Institute.

In Dorm 412, the clock on the wall read 19:53.

The air inside the small room was thick with tension. Maya was hunched over her desk, her laptop screen illuminating her wide, fixed eyes. On her right, her smartphone was set to the atomic time server, counting down the seconds to 20:00.

"Six minutes left," Maya whispered, her fingers nervously tapping against her mousepad. Her fresh account balance from the micro-trade—eighty-three thousand four hundred marks—sat fully verified in her bank portal. She had not spent a single dime of it.

Tracy, who was reclining on her bed with a hair mask on, threw her hands up in utter disbelief. "Maya, you are genuinely insane. You have eighty-three grand in liquid cash, and instead of buying a car or moving into a luxury high-rise, you’re sitting here trying to snipe a luxury ticket for a corporate auction?"

"It’s not just an auction, Tracy," Maya retorted without taking her eyes off the clock. "It’s the Meridian Gallery Gala. The entire financial elite of the continent is going to be in that room! And more importantly... ’he’ is going to be there."

Zoe looked up from her second-hand workstation, adjusting her glasses with a weary sigh. "Maya, let’s look at this logically. Even if you get a ticket, the security protocols for a Golden Investments high-cap event are legendary. You won’t even get within twenty feet of Jake Rivers. Besides, the business tabloids literally confirmed last month that he’s already seeing Alice Chase. Or at the very least, they’re practically inseparable."

"Girlfriends can be broken up with!" Maya declared passionately, spinning around in her swivel chair with dramatic flair. "Relationship statuses in the billionaire bracket are completely fluid! You don’t know what could happen! What if he steps out onto the balcony, looks over at the balcony rail, our eyes meet, and it’s love at first sight? There’s always a non-zero probability!"

Tracy groaned, pulling a pillow over her face. "She’s lost her mind. The trading profits completely fried her brain cells."

"Three minutes!" Maya squealed, ignoring them entirely and swinging back to her monitor. She began hovering her cursor over the portal’s locked ’Purchase Tier-1 Access Pass’ button. "I don’t care what you two say. I’m getting into that gallery if it’s the last thing I do."

"You do realize every institutional wealth group, high-net-worth retail trader, and corporate socialite in the country is waiting on that exact same URL right now, right?" Zoe noted, watching her own network monitor. "The server traffic on the Meridian ticketing gateway is already spiking into the millions. It’s going to crash the instant the clock hits eight."

"It won’t crash for me," Maya muttered through gritted teeth, her pulse hammering in her throat. "My luck is hot today. I can feel it."

"Ten seconds!" Maya started chanting aloud, her voice trembling with manic excitement. "Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One... GO!"

She slammed her index finger onto the mouse.

Instantly, the screen froze.

The sleek gold-and-black layout of the Meridian Gallery ticketing portal turned dead white. A spinning grey loading wheel appeared in the center of the browser, grinding relentlessly against the server overload.

"No, no, no!" Maya gasped, leaning in so close her forehead nearly touched the monitor. "Load! Come on, load!"

A harsh red error message flashed across the screen: [SERVER ERROR 502: BAD GATEWAY.]

"I told you," Zoe said gently from her desk. "The queue gateway just collapsed. Millions of automated bots and institutional purchasing algorithms are slamming the server bandwidth."

"Refresh it!" Tracy yelled from the bed, suddenly invested despite herself. "Don’t just stare at it, Maya, refresh!"

Maya frantically smashed the F5 key.

[502 BAD GATEWAY.]

"No!" Maya cried out, clutching her hair. "Refresh! Refresh!"

`503 SERVICE UNAVAILABLE.`

"They’re gone, Maya," Tracy said, shaking her head pityingly. "When these high-society tickets drop, the private concierge services buy them out in three seconds flat. They’re probably already listed on the secondary market for double the price."

"I am NOT losing hope!" Maya shouted, her voice echoing down the dormitory hallway. "I survived the gold spot liquidity dump, and I am NOT getting defeated by a server error!"

She repeatedly hit the refresh command, her thumbs flying, her eyes watering from the harsh blue light.

[503 SERVICE UNAVAILABLE.]

[502 BAD GATEWAY.]

[CONNECTING...]

The wheel spun once. Twice. The white screen suddenly flickered, and a dark gold interface burst back onto the display.

[RESERVED ALLOCATION FOUND: 1 TIER-3 COMMON ROOM PASS.

PRICE: 20,000 MARKS.

TIME REMAINING TO COMPLETE PAYMENT: 00:59 SECONDS.]

"IT’S OPEN!" Maya shrieked at the top of her lungs, her hands shaking so violently she could barely type in her account security credentials. "IT’S OPEN! ZOE, TRACY, LOOK!"

"Wait, what?!" Tracy scrambled off the bed, knocking her textbook over again as she rushed to Maya’s shoulder. "Twenty thousand marks?! Maya, stop right there! That’s Twenty grand for a single evening entry! And it’s a tier 3 so you might not even get catch a glimpse of Jake!"

"Are you insane?" Zoe chimed in, staring at the price tag on the screen. "Twenty thousand marks is more than our entire semester’s dorm fees combined! Don’t throw away your capital on a single night!"

"I don’t care!" Maya yelled, typing in her verification pin at lightning speed. "I have eighty-three thousand marks! I can afford Twenty thousand for a front-row seat to my future!"

Maya pasted her encrypted bank authorization code, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. She slammed down on the green submission button with two seconds left on the clock.

The screen flashed bright white before settling into a gorgeous, high-resolution gold digital pass displaying a unique cryptographic barcode.

[CONFIRMED. WELCOME TO THE MERIDIAN GALLERY AUTUMN GALA.]

[GUEST: MAYA VANE.

SEAT: BALCONY TIER-3, ROW A, SEAT 04.

TOTAL DEBITED: 20,000 MARKS.]

"YESSSS!" Maya let out a deafening, triumphant scream that rang through the entire fourth floor of Dorm 412. She threw her arms into the air, leaping out of her chair and dancing wildly around the tiny room. "I GOT IT! I ACTUALLY GOT IT!"

Down the hall, several doors slammed open, and annoyed voices yelled for quiet, but Maya didn’t care in the slightest. She grabbed Tracy by the shoulders and spun her around, both of them screaming in an uncontrollable burst of adrenaline, while Zoe sat at her desk, staring at the confirmed barcode with an amused, disbelieving laugh.

"You really dropped Twenty grand on a gala ticket," Zoe said, shaking her head. "Twenty thousand marks gone in a single click. Money really does change people overnight."

"It’s an investment, Zoe! An investment in my destiny!" Maya beamed, clutching her hands over her wildly beating heart, her eyes shining with pure joy as she stared at the digital pass on her screen. "And I’m not stopping here!"

Maya suddenly rushed over to her closet, throwing the thin wooden doors open and tossing aside her student hoodies and cheap denim jackets onto the floor.

"Tomorrow morning, we are skipping microeconomics," Maya announced, pulling out her handbag with a wide, manic grin. "We are going straight to the luxury district on Central Avenue. I have seventy-three thousand marks left, and I am buying a designer evening gown, heels, and jewelry that will make sure everyone in that VIP balcony knows exactly who I am when I step through the door!"

Tracy burst out laughing, shaking her head as she sat back down on the mattress. "Well, if you’re spending that kind of cash, you better take us along to carry the shopping bags!"

"Deal!" Maya cheered, staring back at the golden pass glowing on her laptop screen. "The Meridian Gallery... Jake Rivers, here I come!"

---