Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 835

Owen turned to Mira. "Is it time?"

He was a master of financial strategy himself, and after spending the last few days observing her, he already had a solid read on her playbook.

"Split the capital into four portions," Mira ordered. "Deploy one-quarter right now. Short Atlantic National stock at maximum leverage."

Mira commanded.

"What? Short it? With max leverage? You're insane!"

Wesley yelled.

"If you have a problem with it, there's the door,"

Lucian snapped back, his fingers already flying across the keyboard to execute the trade.

Harvey's steady voice quickly followed in Wesley's ear. "Do as she says. Now."

In a separate trading room.

"Those Mavarians just made their move."

These syndicates had deep roots in Wall Street, complete with their own underground networks of informants.

"They're just now buying into Atlantic National? Hahaha..."

the Asian-faced investor laughed.

"They bought Atlantic Bank stock."

The informant was a trading floor runner who didn't understand Mavarian.

He had only caught a hurried glimpse of the screens. As for whether they went long or short, he simply reported what he assumed to be true.

"To use a Mavarian saying, 'stealing the peg after the cow has been taken.' They're left holding the bag! Hahaha..."

"They're hilarious. I can't wait to see this. We're already planning our exit strategy, and they're just now jumping in.

I am dying to know what they'll do when their accounts get wiped out."

"Isn't it obvious? They'll cry their eyes out and then take a dive off the roof, just like those guys from the African continent last time."

"Are you absolutely sure you saw them buy Atlantic National?"

Mira and Owen preferred simple, high-protein meals during market hours. They each wolfed down a couple of egg galettes, drank some warm water from their thermoses, and finished with an apple.

If they wanted a gourmet feast, they could indulge that night; right now, food was just fuel.

When the afternoon session opened, Atlantic National continued its slow, agonizing slide. The tension in the room dissipated, and even Wesley began to marvel at Mira's uncanny foresight.

But the relief was short-lived. The daily candlestick chart suddenly ticked upward.

Mira studied the monitors intently. The momentum wasn't aggressive. It was likely bottom-feeders trying to buy the dip, assuming the stock had hit its floor and was bound to bounce back.

At this precise moment, no one in the world could fathom that Atlantic National, a titan of the Javenaire Federation's economy, was hurtling toward bankruptcy.

Mira then shifted her primary focus to Fidelity Trust Bank and Loomis & Marlowe.

By the time the closing bell rang, Atlantic National showed no signs of recovery, flatlining in a holding pattern.

It was hard proof that no major institutional money was flowing in. Retail investors simply didn't have the volume to trigger a rally.

As they left the exchange, Owen received another update. "Jude hit the trading floor this afternoon. He mirrored our moves and threw some capital in. Not a lot, though. He and Lawrence only dropped a hundred grand each."