Chapter 315
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Chapter 315:
At ten o’clock on Friday morning, Gaston sat behind his massive desk at the Collins Group headquarters on Wall Street. The corner office offered a commanding, panoramic view of the entire Manhattan skyline.
Gaston picked up his encrypted smartphone and opened an exclusive, invite-only application called Signal. He tapped into a group chat named “Titan Club p>
The members of this group were the apex predators of the financial world — hedge fund managers, private equity billionaires, and banking titans.
Gaston did not type a long, formal analysis. He did not issue a press release. He simply uploaded a real-time stock chart of Douglas Tech. Beneath the image, he typed a single, lethal question.
ѕha𝗿е у𝗼u𝘳 𝗳𝗮v𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵е𝘴 𝗳𝗋o𝗆.с𝗈m
“Douglas Tech. Any thoughts on their current leadership stability p>
He hit send.
For exactly three seconds, the chat was completely silent.
Then the screen exploded. A flood of responses scrolled rapidly upward. In the ruthless ecosystem of Wall Street, a question from the sole heir of the Collins family was not merely an opinion. It was a financial kill order.
Less than thirty minutes later, the bloodbath began.
Massive, anonymous sell orders hit the market. Trading algorithms panicked. Douglas Tech’s stock price plummeted three percent, wiping out millions in market cap.
Out in the Hamptons, Kieran was pacing his living room.
His phone rang. It was his Chief Financial Officer, the man’s voice tight and breathless as he relayed the news about the “Titan Club” message.
A vein throbbed violently in Kieran’s forehead. His vision went red.
He hurled his phone across the room. It smashed into a priceless Ming vase, shattering both into pieces.
Kieran’s chest heaved as he finally grasped the full, terrifying reality of his situation. Gaston Collins was not simply warning him to stay away from Jocelyn. Gaston was calmly demonstrating that he could reduce Kieran’s entire life’s work to rubble with a single text message.
“This madness — it all started with her,” Kieran roared at his terrified assistant standing frozen in the doorway. “This is what happens when I let personal drama infect my business! Get my lawyers on the phone! I want Aspen Schneider completely cut off! I need to liquidate her dead weight right now p>
By Friday evening, the financial storm was still raging, but the penthouse was quiet.
Jocelyn stepped out of the private elevator and kicked off her high heels, exhausted from a long day at the hotel. Before she could even reach the hallway light switch, a massive shadow detached itself from the wall.
Gaston stepped into her path.
He smelled faintly of expensive whiskey and cedar. His eyes were dark, predatory, and completely fixed on her — the look of a lion that had just finished slaughtering a rival on the open plain.
He said nothing.
He grabbed her by the waist and pressed her back firmly against the wall of the entryway.
Jocelyn let out a startled gasp.
Gaston’s mouth crashed down onto hers. It was not a gentle kiss. It was a brutal, consuming claim of absolute ownership, his tongue parting her lips and tasting her deeply. Jocelyn’s thoughts short-circuited. The sheer force of it terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.