Chapter 4

The Blackbird Network worked with lethal efficiency. By the next morning, Julian Thorne’s complete dossier was resting on my desk.

The data proved he was never a Wall Street prodigy.

He was merely an international fraudster who scraped through a diploma mill abroad, packaging himself with forged credentials, rented luxury, and silver-tongued lies.

Mia flipped through the printouts, her eyes narrowing.

"Ethan, doesn't his playbook look suspiciously familiar?"

I skimmed the pages. "Go on."

"Think about it. Fabricate an elite persona, infiltrate the inner circle, lock their liquidity into a high-yield trap, and then orchestrate a hostile short-sell to buy them out for pennies."

"This is the exact signature Dad warned us about—it's the Eclipse Syndicate."

My fingers paused on the paper.

The Eclipse Syndicate. An offshoot that originated from the same ancient lineage as our order, but chose a path of ruthless greed.

My master once said that when the Eclipse moved, they didn't just steal money; they wiped entire bloodlines off the map.

I stared back at Julian’s smug portrait in the file, my gaze hardening.

Julian was just a pawn deployed by the Eclipse to conquer this city.

Their goal was to trigger a domino collapse across the entire local market by imploding Sterling Enterprises, snapping up prime assets at fire-sale prices, and strangling the city's economic throat.

The Sterlings were simply the first sacrificial lamb.

"We have a problem," Mia murmured, her brow furrowed. "The Eclipse doesn't play by the rules. If they pull this off, the entire regional market will be torn to shreds."

I tapped the desk rhythmically, my eyes turning razor-sharp.

"They won't pull it off."

If they wanted a war, I would give them a massacre.

I picked up the secure line and dialed Pantheon Capital.

Pantheon Capital controlled one of the most formidable private liquidity networks and bullion reserves in the world—the true financial spine of our order.

"Uncle Marcus, it's Ethan."

A deep, commanding voice answered from across the ocean:

"Ethan. It's been too long. Tell me, what kind of mess did you get into, and how many billions do you need?"

"Uncle Marcus, it's not a mess. It's business." I laid out Julian Thorne’s game and the Eclipse Syndicate's offensive in crisp detail.

Uncle Marcus fell silent for a few beats before letting out a hearty, rumbling chuckle.

"Fascinating. Those rats from Eclipse still love their dirty little gutter tricks. What's your play?"

"They want to short Sterling Enterprises into the dirt. We let them dig their own grave."

I traced a slow, invisible circle across the polished desk.

"I need you to marshal every liquid dollar we can mobilize. When the Sterling stock hits rock bottom, we buy up the entire float."

"Every single cent the Eclipse pumps into shorting this market will end up in our pockets."

"Hahaha! That's my boy! Cold-blooded and precise!" Uncle Marcus roared with laughter.

"Consider it done!"

"Money is never the issue. Let's see if their Eclipse is dark enough to swallow our Pantheon!"

I hung up. The invisible war had officially begun.

Over the next few days, orchestrated by Julian and the Eclipse Syndicate, a devastating wave of scandals battered Sterling Enterprises.

The stock plummeted into a freefall, crashing over ninety percent from its peak. It was practically treated as worthless junk.

Richard Sterling went gray overnight, attempting suicide multiple times, saved only by his terrified staff.

Chloe was a ghost of her former self. She liquidated all her designer bags, jewelry, and sports cars, running around begging for loans, only to be slammed with locked doors at every turn.

The high-society "besties" who used to shower her with flattery now treated her like a leper.

She called and texted me relentlessly—first with pleas, then with hysterical accusations, and finally with dead-eyed despair.

I never responded to a single word.

The timing wasn't right yet.

On the eve of Sterling Enterprises declaring formal bankruptcy and liquidation, their stock hit an all-time rock bottom.

I sat in the command room at Pantheon Capital's local outpost, screens flashing with endless waterfalls of red and green data.

Uncle Marcus's voice crackled through the comms: "Ethan, the Eclipse just doubled down. They're dumping everything to crush the final support line."

I checked the brass clock on the wall. 2:47 PM.

"Wait thirteen minutes. Let them vomit out every last share they're holding."

At precisely 3:00 PM, fifteen minutes before the closing bell, I hit the execute key.

Pantheon Capital unleashed its full liquidity. Within fifteen breathless minutes, our accounts vacuumed up every single floating share of Sterling stock available on the open market.

The trading floor fell dead silent. Then, Uncle Marcus let out a triumphant bark over the line: "It's done."

The tens of billions the Eclipse Syndicate had poured into shorting the stock were instantly cornered and obliterated. Forced liquidation was triggered across the board.

The entire financial district felt the shockwave.

Traders and corporate titans watched in stunned silence, frantically scrambling to unmask the mysterious titan behind the move.

The Sterlings believed a miracle had fallen from heaven. They thought their family was saved.

Chloe texted me almost instantly:

Ethan! Is it you?! It has to be you, right?!

I knew you would never abandon me! Thank you! I love you so much!

I stared at the glowing screen with ice in my veins, offering no reply.

Against enemies, mercy is suicide.

The real game was just beginning.