Slurp!
Slurp!
Slurp!
Slurp!
Her mouth worked rhythmically, his hands tangled in her hair as she took him in, completely focused.
On the other hand, his eyes were glued to his screen, tracking the live trading chart. The value of his cryptocurrency was surging. Buyers and sellers were pouring into the market. A wicked grin crossed his face—if only his debtors paid up now, he'd be untouchable.
A deep groan escaped him as she gagged, struggling to take him to the hilt. He pulled back slightly, giving her a moment to catch her breath before pushing again. But his focus was split—the numbers on his screen started to falter.
The green upward trendline suddenly flashed red.
The market was crashing.
"What the fuck?" he growled, jerking forward as he spilled into her mouth. He pushed her aside without a second glance, all his attention on the screen.
The value was plummeting. The sell walls were building, driving prices into freefall.
Panic gripped him as his phone rang. He snatched it up, barking into the receiver, "What the hell is happening?"
"Sir, it appears a whale just dumped a significant volume of tokens," his assistant explained nervously.
"A whale?" he snarled. "You mean some moron just wiped forty million off my portfolio in seconds!" His fist slammed into the desk, causing a glass to shatter.
"We're monitoring the order book, sir. It's possible this is temporary—market corrections often bounce back within hours."
He ground his teeth, his gaze fixed on the withdrawal rate as it surged. The panic selling wasn't stopping. He crushed his phone in his grip before tossing it aside and reaching for another. "Initiate immediate liquidation of all outstanding loan agreements. I want every damn cent recovered by midnight."
"Yes, sir," came the reply before he ended the call.
Breathing heavily, he picked up his backup phone and dialed another number. His voice was steel-edged. "Do you have the diamonds yet? I need them now."
"Yes, Mr. Senator," came the smooth reply. "A fresh batch just arrived. You're the first to place an order. What quantity do you need?"
"How much?" he demanded, his stress bleeding through.
"Five pieces. Three million pounds," the voice said confidently.
He clenched his jaw, nearly cracking a tooth. "Fine. Sent."
"Your package will arrive within the hour. Pleasure doing business with you, sir."
He hung up, muttering a curse under his breath. His assistant entered, holding a bottle of Armand de Brignac Midas and pouring him a glass. "The market crash is all over the news, sir," she said cautiously.
"I'm aware," he said, taking a long sip, his mind already moving to the next step. "How's the new token launch coming along?"
"All ready for the presale, Senator. The whitepaper is solid, and we've lined up influencers to pump it on social media."
"Excellent," he said with a cold smile. "If this crash burns the small players, we'll just make them buy into something new."
---
Gun drove the car, glancing at his watch, only 30 minutes left. Panic set in as he whispered a desperate prayer, "Don't worry, Mom. I'm almost there."