Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 1107

"Are we keeping the disguises?" Wesley asked.

"Of course," Owen replied. "We just dealt a massive blow to the heavyweights' bottom lines. If we drop the act now, we're just begging for retaliation."

In truth, Mira and her fellow Mavarians were relatively safe. The Wall Street elite barely paid them any mind, meaning their crosshairs were fixed squarely on James's syndicate.

"So, since we're riding their coattails this time and practically doing them a favor, does that mean I can finally show my real face?" James asked.

"Maybe." Owen cast him a sideways glance. "But you'd better have a rock-solid alibi for this timeframe. If I had to guess, they already have a target on your back. They might just blame this entire disaster on you."

James frowned. "Why wouldn't they blame you?"

"Because they look down on Mavarians, obviously," Mr. Whitlock said with a smirk.

"Wait, being underestimated actually has a perk?" Wesley's eyes widened.

"It's a compliment I'd rather do without."

James was mostly joking. Having clawed his way to the top of the international financial sector, he couldn't care less who held a grudge.

A soft heart had no place in war or business—a universal truth. His previous decision to shatter banking regulations and move mountains for Mira was driven entirely by her undeniable value.

It was all to lay the groundwork for this exact operation.

Naturally, Mira's partnership with him was strictly transactional as well.

Otherwise, why would a Mavarian like her let a foreigner in on such a lucrative scheme?

The group's banter continued.

"I have a suggestion," Master Ellis suddenly interjected, breaking his long silence.

All eyes turned to him.

"Act like you just got back from a trip. Right, say you just returned from the Balkan Underworld."

Meanwhile, in an adjacent trading room, a syndicate of Wall Street titans was slamming fists on desks and cursing up a storm.

"This is ridiculous! We've pumped in millions, so why the hell isn't it dropping?"

"Something is wrong. The Siamese authorities don't have the capital to sustain this. I want to know who's playing against us so I can crush them."

"No, we drain their liquidity and run them out of Wall Street."

"Jason, do we inject more capital?" an assistant asked nervously.

Jason Croft paused, his jaw clenched tight.

"Do it. Hit it again. There is no way the Siamese Baht can hold out this long."

If they backed down now, the financial bloodbath would be catastrophic.