Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 327: Lawsuit Preparations

Darren strutted out into the night. The air outside the Bordeaux Banquet blew past him, crisp and cool. The rest of Los Alverez glittered in the distance, this city truly never slept.

He loosened his tie just an inch. The exhaustion of the day seemed to hit him all at once. He took a deep breath, letting the cool oxygen cycle through his lungs.

Then a buzz vibrated in his breast pocket.

Darren looked down and pulled out his phone, the BlackBerry screen illuminating his face in the night light.

The caller ID showed Jonathan Vance.

Darren pressed the answer button and brought the device to his ear. "Tell me something good, Mr. Vance."

"I have the filings drafted, sealed, and ready to be served the moment the court clerk unlocks the doors tomorrow morning," Vance’s voice came through. Even though he too had been working all night, he sounded completely devoid of the fatigue Darren felt. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

If anything, the lawyer sounded energized. "We’re going for the jugular, Darren. It’s a masterpiece of litigation."

"A masterpiece of litigation? I like that."

Darren began walking slowly toward the valet area, his shoes clicking rhythmically on the concrete. "Walk me through it. I want to know exactly how much pain we’re inflicting."

"Well," Vance started, the sound of rustling papers audible in the background. " Regarding the Sponsors—specifically the group that entertained Mr. Scotland’s agents—we are filing individual suits for Breach of Fiduciary Duty, Conspiracy to Devalue, and Violation of the Right of First Refusal clause in their original sponsorship agreements."

Darren had asked Vance to do this as soon as the betrayal was exposed. He was being extremely petty about it all.

The plan was to sue them all, just because he wanted to reclaim everything they had gained sponsoring Steele Investments.

"Let’s start with Ms. Hargrove," Vance continued, activating his lawyer mode that was feared by many. "The venture capitalist. She was one of the first to sell, correct? I’ve dug into her liquidity."

"The Hargrove Group has a strong security, Vance," Darren smirked. "How have you managed to do that?"

"You underestimate me, Darren."

Darren could almost hear Vance’s smile.

"Ms. Hargrove leveraged her position in Steele Investments to secure a separate loan for a failing real estate project in Miami. By attempting to sell her shares unauthorized, she triggered a default clause in that loan. We’re suing for immediate reclamation of all dividends paid to her over the last two years, plus punitive damages for bad faith negotiation."

"Ah. That’s really good, Vance" Darren said, his eyes cold. "She wanted a premium? She’s paying me back with interest. What about Mr. Lin?"

"Ah, the Singaporean tech investor. LinLux CEO. From what I heard from Brooklyn, he was hesitant, but he eventually agreed. So fuck him too," Vance chuckled darkly.

Darren shook his head playfully.

"We’re hitting him with a breach of the Confidentiality Agreement. The moment those agents showed him ’projections,’ he should have reported it. He didn’t. We’re seeking an injunction to freeze his current holdings until the investigation is complete. It will paralyze his portfolio for months."

"And Mr. Patel?"

"I personally have a vendetta against that man. If it’s fine by you, I suggest we break him. Completely."

Darren’s brows raised. "Wow, Vance. What did Mr. Patel ever do to you?"

"He was a friend. And I was the one who brought him to you when he came to me in need. To betray you paints a bad light on me."

Darren nodded. "You’re right. What is the plan for him?"

Vance let out a sigh. "I’m filing for a complete rescission of his sponsorship contract based on ’Gross Negligence.’ We’re not just taking the shares back, Darren. We’re suing for the ’Opportunity Cost’ lost during the time they wasted entertaining a hostile takeover. It’s petty, it’s aggressive, and it’s legally sound."

Darren stood for a while, nodding in agreement "Sounds good. What about Caldwell?"

"Caldwell is special," Vance said, his voice dropping an octave. "Since you’re keeping him as a pet mole, we’re holding the lawsuit in abeyance."

"Explain."

*I call it a Sword of Damocles. I have a confession of corporate espionage drafted. If he sneezes wrong, I file it, and he goes to prison for fraud. Not just bankruptcy. Prison."

"You’re a terrifying man, Jonathan."

"I try. Look, Darren, the total damages we’re seeking across the board will likely exceed the initial capital they invested. We’re essentially clawing back everything they’ve ever gained from your name."

"Do it," Darren said firmly. "I want them to learn that betting against me is the most expensive hobby they can have."

"Consider it done. Get some rest, Darren. I can hear the exhaustion in your voice."

"You do have sharp ears, Vance," Darren joked. He heard the lawyer laugh amicably.

"Goodnight, Mr. Steele."

"Yeah, you too, Vance."

The line went dead.

Darren lowered the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. He felt lighter. The legal hammer was poised to fall, and the traps for Adam Scotland were being set.

Now, all he needed was his bed.

He rounded the corner of the pick-up zone, scanning the line of luxury vehicles for his driver.

He stopped.

A few yards away, parked directly under the halo of a streetlamp, sat a stunning car that had Darren’s mouth salivating and his wallet bouncing.

It looked like a silver bullet, but it was a stunning Aston Martin Rapide. The vehicle was as sleek as can be, with a four-door chassis gleaming under the lights.

It was a more popular sight back in the future, but in 2011, this thing was a beast; a blend of aggressive power and undeniable elegance.

He looked away from the car to the person leaning against the back passenger door.

Ava Monroe.

She had draped a trench coat over her blue gown, her dark hair caught the breeze, and her hands were clasped demurely in front of her.

When she saw him stop, a genuine smile bloomed on her face.

Darren looked around, then glanced behind him, checking the empty pavement to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. When he turned back, her smile had widened into a grin.

He approached her slowly, his curiosity piqued. The exhaustion from minutes ago had suddenly been replaced with intrigue.

"You were waiting for me?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"I’m a very patient woman," she replied, her voice carrying easily in the quiet night.

"Why?"

Ava tilted her head, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, there are things I wanted us to talk about. Things I didn’t necessarily want others to hear."

Darren raised a brow, standing just a foot away from her, noticing how big and blue her eyes were. "You wanted to talk business without the presence of my business partner?"

Ava’s smile turned playful, her eyes dancing with mischief. She shrugged one shoulder, the motion swaying the trench coat. "Who says I want to talk business?"

Darren gazed at her for a long moment. Standing there against the silver car, she looked like a scene from one of her own movies—the mysterious heroine waiting for the lead in the third act.

He realized he was smiling back. A full, genuine smile.

"It’s late, Ms. Monroe," he said softly.

"Call me Ava," she corrected effortlessly. She glanced up at the moon, then back at him. "And yeah, it’s really late. That’s why we should start going to our homes, right? I’m heading to this quiet little street called Greenbaby. What about you, Mr. Steele?"

Darren looked at her, his smile widening. He couldn’t deny the pull. It was different from Cheyenne’s overpowering gravity; this was magnetic, intriguing.

"Greenbaby you say?" he mused. "Sounds like a good destination."

Ava reached out and opened the rear door of the Aston Martin, holding it open for him. It was a gesture usually reserved for gentlemen, but she did it with a cheeky grace that dared him to accept.

Darren turned slightly, catching the eye of his driver, who was waiting by his own Aston Martin One-77 a few cars down.

He gave a subtle hand signal that told the man to trail behind. The driver nodded once, retreating into the fancy car.

Darren turned back to a smiling Ava. He stood for a while, sighed with exaggeration, then entered the car.

She followed after him and closed the door.

"Call me Darren," he told her.