I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 65: Nvidia conclusion II

In the city dubbed "The Capital of the World," where dreams soar as high as the iconic skyline, New York stands as a beacon of ambition, resilience, and relentless energy. It is home to more billionaires than any other city on the planet—a bustling metropolis where the extraordinary becomes ordinary. From the headquarters of global financial titans like JPMorgan Chase, Goldman Sachs, and Citigroup to the commanding presence of the United Nations and world-renowned tech startups, New York is a pulsating hub of power and influence.

But in the heart of this electric city lies its most infamous epicenter: Wall Street. Known as the place where fortunes are made and dreams crumble with ruthless efficiency, Wall Street embodies the duality of ambition and risk. The nerve center of the global economy, this stretch of pavement drives New York’s claim as the financial capital of the world, with daily trades surpassing a staggering $19 billion.

, Ethan, a young trader trying to make his mark, sat in his office. He was on the phone with his girlfriend.

"Hey, babe, I’ve told you—I’m working. Why do you always interrupt me when I’m busy?" he said, his voice sharp.

Her voice came through the line, soft but firm. "When are you ever not working? I just wanted to let you know that I’m going back to my parents’ house."

Ethan’s gaze briefly left the screen of his laptop, where the stock prices of a particular company fluctuated. "Oh, okay. Your parents’ house? Are you just paying them a visit or something?"

"No," she replied, her tone heavy.

"Shit. Don’t tell me I forgot their birthday or something. Just get them something nice, please," Ethan muttered, his mind still distracted by the market.

Follow current novels on ƒreewebηoveℓ.com.

"No, Ethan, I’m moving back there," she said quietly, her words cutting through the noise of his thoughts.

He blinked, confused. He reached for the phone, lifting it to his ear again. "What do you mean you’re moving back? Why?"

"Ethan, when I chose to follow you from Colorado, we had plans. We were going to travel the world, have adventures together. But now, look at us... I barely see you for more than three hours a day. All we do is argue. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this. I need to go back home." Her voice broke as she finished, the tears evident even through the phone line.

Ethan listened to Sydney’s words, his frustration building as he tried to find the right response. He clenched his jaw, holding the phone tightly.

"Sydney, you know I have to work. I need to work. We have all these plans for the future, but they need money. We need money," he said, his voice tight with urgency.

Sydney’s voice cracked, growing louder. "I don’t need money, Ethan. I just need you. I just need you! We were fine before all this money—before all this work. We’d be fine without it!"

Ethan’s grip on the phone tightened, and he couldn’t hold back his anger any longer. "When I paid for your dad’s cancer treatments, you didn’t say anything. When I paid for your stupid brother’s college tuition, you didn’t say anything! But now, now you’re telling me you don’t need the money? You ungrateful bitch! I poured thousands into you, taking you out of that backwater town, changing your life, giving you the best things in life... And now you say you don’t want the money?"

Sydney’s voice came through, choking with emotion. "Ethan, are you serious right now? You know i don’t care about the money" she cried, the hurt in her voice unmistakable.

Ethan saying "yes yes you don’t care about the money you always say that, but we all know everyone cares about the money" he said mockingly

Ethan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His voice softened, though the frustration still lingered. "Baby, I’m sorry. I was just angry about what you said. Please, just hold on. I did something at work. When it works out, we’ll have all the money we need. We’ll go to Europe—Spain, like you’ve always wanted."

Sydney’s response was quieter but still heavy with emotion. "Ethan, we already have enough to go to Spain. The reason I never went is because it wouldn’t be any fun without you."

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get another word out, the door to his office suddenly opened. He turned to see who had barged in, his face tightening with irritation. But then his eyes landed on Christopher—his mentor and boss, the man who had brought him into the firm.

Christopher’s voice cut through the tension in the room. "Ethan, we need to talk. Now."

Ethan let out a heavy sigh and said into the phone, "Hey, babe, let’s talk later. I need to get back to work."

Sydney, with a bitter edge, scoffed. "Goodbye, Ethan. It was nice knowing you."

Before Ethan could even process what had just happened, Christopher pressed on. "The Nvidia shares you bought—what did you end up doing with them?"

Ethan’s mind was still reeling from the conversation with Sydney. "Pardon?" he mumbled, trying to focus.

"This isn’t the time to space out, boy," Christopher snapped, his voice urgent. "The shares. What did you do with them? Did you short them, or buy them normally for capital gains?"

Ethan blinked, still a bit disoriented. "Oh, yeah. Well, I took your advice. Since you said the Blackwells never lose, I shorted them."

Christopher cursed under his breath. "Shit."

Ethan, panicked, asked, "What did CEO Jensen win?"

Christopher sighed heavily. "No, the Blackwells did."

Ethan’s agitation was rising. "Then what’s the issue? By projection, the shares should drop. The Blackwells won That should show there’s a crack in Nvidia’s upper management."

Christopher let out a long, resigned sigh. "That should have been the case, but those bastards issued new shares. They’re claiming it’s for capital growth to acquire a few more companies, and now the share prices have surged again. I suggest you pull back all your shorts, close all your positions, and save whatever little you have left."

As soon as Christopher’s words sank in, Ethan’s life flashed before his eyes. His hands shook uncontrollably as he quickly opened his laptop, his mind racing.

Meanwhile, Christopher muttered under his breath, his frustration evident. "Fucking bastards. Who would have guessed they’d issue new shares? What balls they have. Well, there goes Jensen’s hold in the company, but what a way to do it. In one fell swoop, they gained so much control. I guess the Blackwells really are back, huh?" he said admiring the way the Blackwells took control of a trillion-dollar company in under a month such efficiency was out of this world" Too bad we had to suffer a loss in their return. Well, that’s business, I guess. So, Ethan, how much did we lose? Based on my calculations, we should lose at most a million, right?"

Christopher turned to look at Ethan, but the sight of his trembling hands and ghostly expression stopped him cold. Ethan’s face had drained of color, and his eyes seemed to have lost all their usual intensity.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Christopher asked, his voice softer now. "I know it’s your first major loss, but it’s part of the deal. You won’t get far if that shakes you up. Just cheer up. I picked you for a reason—you have talent."

When Ethan didn’t respond, Christopher’s tone shifted. "Okay, look at me. I’ll stay up with you. We’ll plan. I’ve got a juicy secret—something big. The Nigerian government is planning to issue bonds with a record high 19 percent. If we get in early, we could grab a significant piece of that and make up for all your losses, and then some."

As Christopher finished speaking, he noticed Ethan hadn’t moved from his position. Curiosity piqued, he walked around to the other side of the desk to take a closer look.

Ethan didn’t react as Christopher peered at his laptop screen. His eyes landed on the Profit and Loss (P&L) statement, which was boldly displayed in front of him. What he saw made his blood run cold. In stark, unforgiving red letters, it read: Loss - $14.29 million.

Christopher let out a scream, his voice filled with disbelief and panic. He rushed over to Ethan, grabbing him by the shoulders. "This has to be a joke, right?" he demanded, his voice sharp with anxiety.

Ethan, trembling uncontrollably, shook his head. "No... no, it’s real," he said, his voice cracking. The words came out in a stammer, a habit he hadn’t had since high school—since the days when he was bullied.

Christopher’s eyes widened as he snatched the laptop from the desk, reading the screen with growing horror. He began pacing around the room, his steps quick and erratic. The tension in the air was suffocating. "Fifty million dollars? You used fifty million?!" His voice was rising in disbelief. He stopped, glaring at Ethan, who was frozen in fear, his wide eyes full of dread.

Christopher stared at him, demanding, "Wait—how did you get it?" He couldn’t mask the panic in his tone as he waited for an answer.

Ethan’s stammering increased. "I—I—I got it..." His words barely formed, and he couldn’t seem to get them out fast enough.

Christopher’s patience snapped. "Talk properly, you fool! How did you get fifty million?!"

Ethan, still shaking, managed to get the words out between his stammers. "I... I got it from your account," he said, his voice cracking. "I wanted to use it... and surprise you. Because of what you said, I went ahead and checked, and I found out the Blackwells truly haven’t ever lost. I... I felt they would win, and that the share prices would drop. I didn’t know... I didn’t know this would happen."

Christopher stood frozen for a moment, his eyes narrowing. Then it hit him. "What? My account? You mean my client account?"

Ethan nodded nervously, his face pale, his eyes darting away.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," Christopher muttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "How did you get my account details, Ethan? How the hell did you get them?"

Ethan stammered again, his voice shaky. "Last month... there was a time we went out. You were drunk, and you needed to make a transfer urgently. You showed me a place where you kept your password... I... I just used it."

Christopher stared at him in disbelief, his face a mask of fury. "You fool! You’ve ruined me! Fuck!" he yelled. Then, as if trying to regain some composure, he added, "And would you stop with the stammering?!"

The door swung open, and a woman stepped into the room. She immediately noticed Christopher, his eyes burning with fury as he held the laptop. When she saw Ethan’s face, pale and lifeless, as if he had just undergone surgery, her expression changed to one of concern.

"Mr. Christopher, what’s wrong? is Mr Taylor aright should i bring water or anything?" she asked, her voice laced with confusion.

Without even looking at her, Christopher snapped, "Rebecca, call the firm partners now. We need to hold an emergency meeting." He paused, then added in a colder tone, "Also, tell the security team to not let anyone leave."

Rebecca, sensing the urgency in his voice, nodded quickly. "Yes, sir." She turned and left the office.

Ethan, still shaking, looked at Christopher with wide eyes. The weight of the situation began to sink in, and he nervously swallowed. "Christopher" he said but seeing the eyes he got in return he swallowed his spit that keeps clogging his throat "Mr. Reed," he said, his voice trembling, "Please... I don’t want to lose my job. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll make up for the loss, I promise." His words came out in a desperate rush.

Christopher turned, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits. "Your job?" he repeated, his voice a low growl. He took a step closer, silencing Ethan with his anger.

Ethan swallowed hard, staring into Christopher’s furious brown eyes. Before he could say another word, Christopher cut him off. "Your job? You’d be lucky if you don’t go to jail. You’re here talking about your job," he said, his voice ice-cold.

With that, Christopher turned and walked out of the office. Ethan stood there, frozen, his thoughts swirling with the word "jail" repeating over and over in his mind. The weight of it crushed him. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground, the reality of what he’d just done hitting him all at once.

In the cold, unforgiving world of Wall Street, a youngster had flown too close to the sun—and, as fate would have it, he burnt out. In that office, in that fleeting moment, someone’s dreams and hopes had just died. But in Wall Street, such moments were far from rare. Here, dreams were born only to be shattered with the same indifference as a gust of wind brushing against a paper.

Ethan was no different from the countless others who had come before him, drawn to this place of opportunity with ambition in their eyes and fire in their hearts. And just as many had done, he had been consumed by the very system he sought to master. His failure was not unique. It was a drop in the ocean of daily losses, a single casualty in the ceaseless churn of market fluctuations.

In Wall Street, lives were measured not by the dreams they held, but by the wealth they could acquire. Dreams were transient—easily discarded once they failed to yield profit. Ethan’s downfall was nothing more than an ordinary event, another casualty in a place where success and failure danced on the edge of a razor blade, and the world moved on without hesitation.

This was Wall Street—where even the brightest lights could burn out, and the cycle would repeat.

At least, in the midst of his downfall, Ethan had one thing to cling to—a loving woman waiting for him. Perhaps he could find the answer to the question that had haunted him for so long: Did she really care about him, or had it always been about the money?

But that was, of course, only if he wasn’t jailed.

P.S special shoutout to VisineAnt who i am still so grateful to for sending those gifts

Also if you want to support me, please donate stones, Golden tickets and gifts you could also leave a review Thank you so much more chapters to come