Chapter 265: Stop Messing With Me

Chapter 265: Chapter 265: Stop Messing With Me

On Saturday night, inside the main living room of the Newman estate, the air was thick with suffocating tension.

Richard Newman stood near the grand fireplace, his face flushed red with unbridled rage. Beside him, Finn paced frantically back and forth across the hardwood floor, while Ray sat on the leather sofa, staring blankly at his phone in disbelief.

The double front doors swung open, and Troy Newman stumbled into the foyer. He reeked of expensive bourbon, his suit half-unbuttoned, a loose, lopsided grin playing on his lips.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Richard roared, stepping forward so fast he nearly knocked over a side table. "You reckless, brainless idiot!"

Troy blinked, waving a hand airily as he leaned against the doorframe to steady himself. "Brother... relax. Why are you shouting? It’s the middle of the night."

"Relax?!" Richard’s voice cracked with fury, his chest heaving as he closed the distance, pointing a trembling finger straight at Troy’s face. "You just dragged Elizabeth Roys and Jake Rivers into a slander campaign without consulting a single person on the board! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!"

Troy let out a loud, slurred laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, that? Come on, brother, take a breath. I got this under control. Nobody even knows it was me. Jake Rivers is probably crying in his private jet right now, trying to figure out how to handle the Roys family."

Looking at Troy’s smug, drunken expression sent Richard’s blood pressure soaring. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, taking a sharp step forward as if he was about to strike his own brother.

"Troy, stop talking," Finn interrupted loudly, stepping between them to prevent things from escalating physically. He grabbed Troy by the shoulders, shaking him violently. "Listen to me! Jake Rivers knows. He knows it was you."

Troy’s lopsided smile faltered, but he quickly shook his head, pushing Finn’s hands away. "Stop... stop playing games with your uncle, Finn. You guys are just trying to prank me because I came home drunk. There’s no way he knows. The paper trail is completely hidden."

"His assistant called yesterday morning, Troy!" Ray barked from the sofa, his eyes cold and dark as he glared at his uncle. "They called directly to let us know they were coming after the entire group! That’s why we called you yesterday while you were off drinking! Didn’t you wonder how we knew it was you?"

The color instantly drained from Troy’s face. The drunken haze in his eyes began to clear, replaced by a cold, sharp spike of panic. He took a step back, bumping into the wall. "No... no, that’s impossible..."

"He officially declared war on the entire Newman Enterprise Group," Finn added, his voice trembling slightly. "Because of your little stunt, he’s coming for all of us."

"Wait..." Troy’s breath hitched in his throat. His hands began to shake. "Did... did Jake say anything about the rumors in public? Has Elizabeth Roys made a statement? Are they suing us?!"

"They completely ignored it," Ray said bitterly, letting out a hollow, sarcastic chuckle. "They didn’t make a single statement. They acted like your little scandal piece didn’t even exist."

Troy stood frozen in place, a heavy, icy weight dropping into his stomach.

The master stroke he thought he possessed—the weapon he believed would destroy Jake Rivers’ reputation—was completely useless. Worse than useless, he had played his card, revealed his position, and invited absolute destruction down upon his family’s empire.

"I..." Troy stammered, his confidence completely shattered. Sweat broke out across his forehead. "I... I’m sorry... I didn’t think... Look, there’s still time! I can fix it brother! I’ll call the paper! I’ll make them retract it before Monday!"

Without waiting for a response, Troy turned around in a panic and stumbled back out the front doors into the night.

"Troy! Get back here!" Richard bellowed, his voice echoing across the courtyard as Troy sped off into the darkness. "Don’t you dare make things worse, you fool!"

---

By early Sunday morning, the Bombardier Global 7500 touched down smoothly on the tarmac at Aurelia International Airport.

As the heavy aircraft door hissed open, the group gathered near the exit to bid their farewells. The lingering Geneva air faded, replaced by the crisp morning breeze of Aurelia.

"Seriously guys, thank you so much for having me along," Fancy said warmly, holding her small travel tote as she looked around at everyone. "It was an incredible trip."

"Anytime, Fancy," Jake replied with a slight nod. "Go home and get some rest."

The team split up at the tarmac private terminal. Aliya headed toward her armored SUV, flanked by her two bodyguards, Kovacs and Sarah, with Fancy accompanying her for the drop-off. Leon left alongside Noah in a separate sedan, chatting about upcoming portfolio rebalances. Adrian and Marcus boarded their private town car to head back to the Aurelia Capitals operations center, while Jake walked toward his car, flanked by Elias and Miller.

Inside the back seat of Aliya’s S-Class, Fancy watched the scenery blur past the window as they pulled onto the highway. Beside her, Aliya was already scrolling through her phone, glancing at the viral wave Jake’s single LOOP post had generated overnight.

"Look at this," Aliya said, turning her screen toward Fancy. "The entire country is going crazy guessing whether Jake’s posting a signal on Monday. If he actually drops one, Fancy, you should seriously capitalize on it and make some real money."

Fancy gave a soft, timid laugh, shaking her head. "Aliya, I don’t know the first thing about trading. And honestly... I don’t even have cash to deposit into a trading account. Between my part-time jobs and tuition, most of what I earn goes straight back home to support my family."

Aliya blinked, her expression softening. "You don’t need to be a financial genius, you know. You can just watch a few beginner videos online to learn how to open and execute orders."

Before Fancy could reply, a soft chime sounded on Fancy’s phone. She looked down at her screen and gasped.

An alert from her bank app read: [Incoming Direct Transfer: 50,000 Marks - Sender: Aliya Rivers].

"Aliya!" Fancy turned to her in shock, her hands trembling around the phone. "What is this?! No, I can’t accept this, it’s way too much—" She frantically tapped her screen to attempt a refund.

"Don’t you dare send that back," Aliya said firmly, placing a gentle hand over Fancy’s phone screen. "Consider it a loan. Use a chunk of it to clear up whatever debts your family is dealing with back home so you can breathe, and put the rest into an account if you want to trade alongside Jake’s updates. You can pay me back whenever you’re rich. No arguments!"

Fancy stared at Aliya, a lump rising in her throat as warmth flushed through her chest. "Aliya... I don’t even know how to thank you. Thank you so much."

"That’s what friends are for," Aliya smiled, wrapping her arm around Fancy’s shoulder as the SUV sped down the freeway.

---

After departing the private terminal, Jake’s car glided through the quiet morning streets before pulling up to the high-rise Zenith penthouse.

While Jake had been in Switzerland, Catharine had hosted a sleepover with her apartment roommates. By the time he unlocked the main doors, the guests had already departed, leaving the spacious living room pristine and peaceful.

Catharine was lounging on the outdoor terrace sofa, wrapped in a cozy oversized sweater, cradling a steaming mug of herbal tea in both hands as she watched the sun rise over the city skyline.

Jake stepped quietly onto the glass balcony, stepping behind her. He leaned down, wrapping his arms comfortably around her shoulders and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "Did you miss me?"

"A little," Catharine smiled, tilting her head back against his chest with a soft laugh. "Though your sister kept me updated on your every move, so I basically felt like I was in Geneva with you guys anyway. Guess the rumors got to her a little."

"That little menace..." Jake shook his head, speechless at his sister’s relentless antics.

They spent the remainder of Sunday relaxing together—watching movies in the private cinema room, ordering lunch in, and catching up on the chaotic events of the past week.

Around mid-afternoon, Catharine pulled up her phone, her thumb scrolling through the main financial headlines before turning the screen toward Jake.

A prominent banner ad across The Sentinel—the major media outlet that had initially published the scandal piece accusing Jake and Elizabeth Roys—was broadcasting a bold red header across its home page:

> [PUBLIC RETRACTION & OFFICIAL APOLOGY TO JAKE RIVERS AND ELIZABETH ROYS]

"Look at this," Catharine pointed to the text. "The Sentinel just issued a full, formal retraction. They’re claiming their senior managing editor was fed unverified, fabricated information by an anonymous third-party PR firm, and they’ve already fired the entire editorial board responsible."

Jake glanced at the glowing screen for less than a second, his expression completely unreadable. He calmly picked up his glass of water, took a small sip, and set it back down on the coffee table.

"They must have just realized that the Vale family syndicate owns the underlying debt on their parent holding company," Jake said plainly, his voice devoid of emotion. "They think a public apology will make me pull back, or at least spare them from total liquidation."

"Will it?" Catharine asked softly, looking up into his eyes.

"No," Jake replied quietly, his eyes fixing on the sprawling Aurelia skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass. "It’s far too late for an apology."

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