Chapter 219
Ever since Mira’s massive buy-in triggered the daily limit, Titan’s stock had been on a relentless upward tear. In fact, it was charting significantly higher than it had on this exact date in her past life.
Her employees, who had blindly followed her lead, watched their portfolios swell day by day. Euphoria swept through the office, turbocharging everyone’s productivity.
Mira’s astronomical capital injection had functioned as a massive catalyst, drawing in hordes of frenzied retail investors.
By the fourth day, the meteoric rise finally stalled, and the graph began to dip.
Panic rippled through the staff chat. *Should we sell p>
Mira replied instantly: *Not yet. Hold the line p>
Given the massive corporate infrastructure backing Titan, a total collapse was impossible right now.
Moreover, she knew they were just days away from announcing a colossal overseas contract that would send the valuation into the stratosphere.
She knew all this because Ethan Mercer had bragged about it in her past life.
By this point, Ethan had likely poured his own money into the stock-around fifty million dollars, if she remembered correctly.
In the previous timeline, he had made a decent profit off that fifty million, but his weak nerves had caused him to pull out entirely too early.
The very day after he liquidated, Titan hit the daily limit. Ethan had spent a week in a bitter rage, furious over the millions he left on the table.
Though she was capitalizing on the market trend he had accidentally alerted her to, Mira wasn’t about to give him a heads-up. She could forgive a lot of things, but in her past life, when Adrian Mercer had chosen to save Mara over her, Ethan had stood by in complete silence. He didn’t deserve to be called her brother.
On the fifth day, the stock took a legitimate plunge.
Novice investors to the core, her employees were sweating bullets. Green arrows made them ecstatic; red arrows made them physically sick.
But their blind faith in their boss held them steady. If Mira said it wasn’t time, it wasn’t time.
On the sixth day, the stock kept bleeding, dropping even further.
Mira knew exactly what was happening. The initial dip had triggered a mass panic-sell among retail investors wanting to lock in whatever meager profits they had Teft exactly like Ethan had done.
Anyone who had bought in right after Mira still walked away with a small profit by cashing out now.
By the seventh day, the stock was still in the red, but the bleed had slowed to a trickle.
The market had stabilized. The weak hands had completely flushed out of the system.
Shockingly, not a single employee had messaged the group chat to ask about selling since day five.
Mira had fully prepared herself for mutiny. If they had begged to cash out, she would have let them. She had given them the playbook, their financial destinies were in their own hands.
Besides, the stock market was a vicious beast. Even armed with future knowledge, absolute certainty was a myth.
Yet, through days of red charts, absolute silence reigned in the chat. It was astonishing.
The unwavering loyalty likely stemmed from the fact that the seventh day was payday for both of Mira’s companies.
The jaw-dropping salaries and lavish bonuses cemented their belief that Mira was leading them straight to generational wealth.
Even Mr. Harth, acting as a part-time script editor, raked in a cool hundred thousand dollars this month. His public schoolteacher salary had just barely bumped up to ten thousand.
As for their stock investments? If the boss said hold, they held.
Even if the stock cratered and wiped out their savings, they didn’t care. They were making so much money working for her that they could recoup the losses in no time.
This month, revenue from music downloads had predictably plateaued.
However, licensing deals were still printing money around the clock.
More importantly, the short-drama division was entering its golden age of profitability.