Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 321: Bordeaux Banquet

If there was one thing Darren loved the most about Cheyenne, it was that she knew how to go big. It was her motto, he thought.

Go big or go home.

She was a great planner who knew how to give events the magnitude and emphasis they required. So for Darren's shareholder interviews, she had selected one of her personal most important locations in the city.

The Bordeaux Banquet.

Darren knew of it. It was a beacon of opulence and power somewhere in the heart of downtown Los Alverez.

He'd driven past it on a few occasions, and he knew that having his meetings in such an exquisite place would give him the levels of authority he required to make this an emphatic event.

Besides, it truly was an emphatic event. He'd never planned to even have shareholders but Cheyenne was right, he needed them. Sponsors were dangerous.

So now, the fast growing Steele Investments was finally accepting shareholders, and most certainly, multiple business men and women would be coming into the Banquet to make their pitch as to why they should join Darren's branch of shareholders.

Why he should let them own pieces of his company.

Bordeaux Banquet was a towering edifice made of glass and marble. That morning, it pierced the skyline of the city like a crown jewel, though it was only one of the many jewels in Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux's vast empire.

Owned outright by the female multi billionaire, the building was no mere conference center. Rather, it was a fortress of influence, designed for the elite to forge alliances or shatter rivals in rooms dripping with luxury.

The exterior gleamed with polished black granite facades that had subtle gold filigree engraved into them, evoking the grandeur of a Renaissance palace reimagined for the modern tycoon.

At least as modern as 2011.

Towering at thirty stories, its pinnacle housed a private helipad where Cheyenne's personal fleet of jets could land discreetly, while the lower levels buzzed with Michelin-starred restaurants, invitation-only spas, and galleries showcasing art pieces worth more than some small nations' GDPs.

Inside, the lobby was a cavernous atrium with soaring ceilings. On these ceilings were very particular adornments designed to fit the overall taste.

There were crystal chandeliers that cascaded like frozen waterfalls, illuminating Persian rugs and velvet lounges where whispered deals had birthed conglomerates.

Security was almost invisible. Anyone walking in would think that there was no kind of security whatsoever but they would be wrong.

Even for the time, Cheyenne was able to afford the most high tech security for such an important, influential place. There were biometric scanners at every door, AI-monitored corridors, and private elevators that required voice authentication.

The Bordeaux Banquet wasn't any ordinary venue; it was a statement, a place where power convened, and Cheyenne's touch was evident in every detail.

From the bespoke Bordeaux wine cellars to the executive suites with panoramic views that made one feel like a god overlooking the mortal world.

This was the kingdom of top tier business deals. The realm where powerful partnerships were forged.

In the grand boardroom on the twenty-fifth floor, Darren Steele and Cheyenne Lamb Bordeaux sat at the head of a massive mahogany table.

The table was so large that it could seat twenty different people. It has a surface so polished that one could see their reflection as clearly as they would in a mirror.

It shone under the soft glow of recessed lighting. The slab where ideas were drawn and business maps were designed.

Today, for such an event, they both did their best to look their best. And by looking their best, that meant looking powerful. Like they didn't come here at all to negotiate, only to state what they require and select the ones willing to match it.

Darren had visited his mother yesterday, and in between her excitement that his birthday was coming and her worry that he was facing difficulties in work, she was more than happy to help him select what to wear.

So, under her guidance, Darren had picked up what he thought was most fitting for this paramount occasion.

He wore a Tom Ford. It was impeccably tailored, a black suit of billionaire glory. It blended classic elegance with a sharp, modern, and high-glamour silhouette, and this was one of the reasons it was incredibly popular with younger, fashionable executives.

Like Darren.

As he sat there, stern and faceless, the suit looked like it was made just for him. The fabric hugged his broad shoulders and athletic build like a skin armor.

The crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar just enough to hint at his masculine, chiseled frame beneath.

His dark brown hair was styled back, his jaw set in quiet determination, exuding the vibe of a man who'd clawed his way to billions through sheer foresight, grit… and well, a regression.

Polite but unyielding, his cold eyes scanned every detail like a predator assessing territory. Today was a really big day for him; Steele Investments was officially going into another level, into another path in its unstoppable growth.

He couldn't lie, he was slightly nervous, but his determination to get this done without any errors overshadowed his angst. After Caldwell, he couldn't allow betrayal ever again, not in his company.

Which was why even though Cheyenne had his full faith and trust, he knew even a woman like her wasn't far above betrayal.

He moved his eyes softly to look at her. As if she could sense him, she turned her head and their eyes locked.

She smiled at him with so much self assurance.

Renji didn't smile back, he just gazed at her.

Cheyenne was a really beautiful woman, and she knew it.

Sitting there beside him, she was a vision of charm. She was Aphrodite, made of fair skin, pride and a godly beauty.

Today she wore an exquisite purple gown, one that emphasized on the kind of wealth she owned. It cascaded from a plunging neckline that accentuated the voluptuous swell of her full breasts.

Darren could still recall clasping tight on those breasts a few days ago. He could still remember the taste of her lips that were now painted with a glittering red.

His eyes followed the gown's length. Its fabric clinged to her narrow waist before flaring into a mermaid silhouette that highlighted her wide, sculpted hips.

Even though she was seated, he remembered seeing her when she came in and how it pressed to her rounded, fat ass. He had suppressed a sigh then, and a thought as well.

The gown's deep amethyst hue complemented her mature, hot features. Her sharp cheekbones, full lips painted a bold crimson, and eyes that held a seductive, egoistic fire.

It wasn't like they intended it, but they couldn't escape how they appeared as they sat there, together.

They were radiating a power-couple aura.

The Bitcoin billionaire and the only woman Empire CEO. They made a strong team.

Darren's stoic control would balance Cheyenne's articulate dominance, and Cheyenne's reach would facilitate Darren's drive.

Such an alliance could be unstoppable.

And at the looks of it, they both had their goals aligned at the same thing: taking down Richard Morrison. Darren was doing it to defend his company, and Cheyenne was doing it to elevate hers.

It worked like this.

Sitting together, their chairs were close enough that their arms brushed occasionally, sparking an undercurrent of the obvious romantic tension amid the business at hand.

They hadn't yet talked about their 'contract signing' in the poolroom. But today was business, and Darren was glad Cheyenne was the type of woman who knew how to separate both parts of life.

The room around them was just as lavish as the rest of the Bordeaux Banquet. The walls were lined with leather-bound books on finance and strategy, a projector was humming idly, and the rectangular windows offered a commanding view of the city lights twinkling below.

Cheyenne leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with a graceful sweep that made her gown shimmer.

"You didn't tell me how it went with Caldwell. I've done business with that orange-shaped man before. A very very long time ago," she pouted. "It was not a fun experience."

Darren looked back ahead. "He begged like the bag of trash he was."

"Bag of trash?" Cheyenne chuckled. "Why Darren, since when did you become so foul-mouthed and condescending?"

Darren stayed still. "Maggots kept crawling their way into my establishments. Being foul-mouthed is all I have left. Tomorrow I will handle the rest of the sponsors. Today, hopefully we find good prospects."

Cheyenne gazed at him for a while and sighed. "I can't argue with that, dear Mr. Duckling." Her voice carried that familiar egoistic lilt as she glanced at the schedule.

"But trust me, I made sure my parties found the very best for you. We've got a parade of hopefuls lined up. Remember though, I'm not just here for decoration. If they're not up to scratch, I'll say so. Only my opinion, of course. You're the god of your company. You make the final say."

She flashed him a seductive smile, her fingers lightly tracing the table's edge, close enough to his hand to tease without touching.

Darren looked down at her games but did nothing else except nod. "I appreciate it, Cheyenne. Let's start with the first."

Cheyenne gestured to the man standing by the immaculate door. He went out and came back with the first prospect.