Chapter 274: The Architect’s Trap

Chapter 274: Chapter 274: The Architect’s Trap

Sylvia Sheele stared at the young man across the mahogany table for two long, agonizing seconds. The sharp, polished composure that had carried her through a decade of high-stakes corporate acquisitions was stretched paper-thin. In Jake’s dark, unblinking eyes, she saw no hesitation, no posturing, and above all, no fear. He was entirely willing to incinerate a billion-mark stake held by the Sheele Group—and his own multi-billion-mark position—just to ensure the absolute extinction of the family sitting around them.

Across the long table, the silence among the Newmans turned from tense to utterly horrifying.

Richard Newman’s breath caught in his throat, a cold, heavy dread settling into his chest like lead. He had clung to the desperate hope that Sylvia Sheele’s arrival would force a truce—that corporate self-interest would compel Jake to negotiate. But watching Jake casually slap away the hand of one of the most powerful financial conglomerates in the country without a second thought smashed that delusion into dust.

’He doesn’t care about the Sheele Group...’ Richard realized, his hands trembling violently on the table as a drop of cold sweat traced down his hollowed cheek. ’He just offended Sylvia Sheele to her face just to make sure we die. He really is here to erase us.’

Troy Newman’s face drained of every last trace of color. The sudden surge of hope that had flared in his blood moments ago died, leaving behind a sickening, hollow void. His chest heaved as he stared at Jake, his eyes wide with absolute panic. "He’s crazy..." Troy whispered under his breath, his voice cracking. "He’s insane... he doesn’t want money... he just wants us dead..."

Finn Newman sat motionless, his fingers dug so tightly into his knees that his knuckles turned stark white. A cold, bitter laugh welled up in his throat, though not a sound escaped his lips. ’We are done for,’ Finn thought, a terrifying numbness creeping over him. ’Even the Sheele Group can’t get us out of here.’

Sylvia slowly leaned back in her high-backed chair, her sharp eyes narrowing as she calculated her remaining options. The corporate leverage she had relied on was useless against a man who viewed billions as mere ammunition.

"You truly are a monster, Mr. Rivers," Sylvia said softly, her venomous tone giving way to a pragmatic, chilled edge. She tilted her head slightly, studying his unreadable face. "Since you’ve made it clear you’re willing to burn the entire house down around our ears... what about my investment? Are you prepared to reimburse the Sheele Group half of the five hundred million marks—or cover half of the one billion—for the nineteen point seven percent stake I acquired yesterday?"

Jake’s expression didn’t shift by a millimeter. A faint, inscrutable glint flickered in his eyes.

Instead of answering her directly, Jake placed both hands flat on the polished mahogany and pushed himself back smoothly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jake announced, his low voice cutting through the heavy air with absolute authority. "We will take a fifteen-minute recess. Miss Sheele and I will step into the executive lounge to address a private matter before I begin the final liquidation process."

He looked around the table, his gaze sweeping over the hollow, shell-shocked faces of the Newman family. "I suggest you all stretch your legs. You won’t have much time left in this room."

Without waiting for a response, Jake stood up, buttoned his suit jacket with effortless grace, and gestured toward the side door leading to the private executive suite.

Sylvia’s brows knit together in silent intrigue, but she rose gracefully, smoothing the front of her skirt. She gave a curt signal to her legal team to remain seated before following Jake out of the boardroom.

The heavy acoustic doors clicked shut behind them, plunging the main boardroom into a thick, suffocating gloom.

For nearly a full minute, nobody moved. The air in the room felt heavy, almost unbreathable, thick with the stench of ruin.

"It’s over," Ray Newman muttered, his voice breaking as he slammed his palms against his face, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. "It’s all over. We’re broke. My inheritance... my shares... everything is gone."

"Shut up, Ray!" Troy snapped, though his own voice lacked any real bite, shaking violently as he gripped the edge of the table. "Brother, say something! There has to be a legal injunction! An emergency stay! We can sue Apex Bank for selling the debt obligations—"

"Sue them with what money, Troy?" Finn interrupted, his voice dropping into a harsh, hollow rasp. He turned his dead, bloodshot eyes toward his brother. "With what legal budget? Newman Logistics Holdings is under court-ordered liquidation as of twenty minutes ago. In forty-eight hours, every debt we owe across every subsidiary will default. We don’t have the cash to pay off eight hundred and forty million, let alone the billions cascading behind it."

Richard Newman didn’t utter a single word. He sat bowed in his seat, looking ten years older than he had when he walked into the room that morning. The empire he had spent expanding, and guarding through ruthless politics was disintegrating right before his eyes, reduced to ash by a young man who hadn’t even reached his thirties.

"Is there really nothing left?" Joe Dane asked, his hands trembling so hard he couldn’t keep them flat on the table. "Is Jake really going to destroy an entire family legacy? Just like that? Over a feud?"

"He has sixteen billion marks in cash from shorting our own blood," Sam Newman whispered, staring blindly at the blank wall opposite him. "He didn’t just beat us. He harvested us."

Inside the soundproof executive lounge, the floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a sweeping, majestic view of the city skyline, but neither occupant looked outside.

Sylvia stood near the edge of a sleek glass coffee table, crossing her arms as she watched Jake walk over to the marble side bar, calmly pouring himself a glass of still water.

"You took us out of the room, Mr. Rivers," Sylvia said, her voice smooth and calculating once more. "I assume you didn’t pull me in here just to display your decorum. What are you actually planning?"

Jake took a slow sip of water, his dark eyes meeting hers over the rim of the glass.

"I told you in there, Miss Sheele," Jake said calmly, setting the glass down on the marble counter. "I am always open to strategic cooperation. I simply won’t entertain any agreement that leaves the Newman family with a single pillar left to stand on."

Sylvia’s eyes flared with a spark of renewed interest. She took a step closer, her posture straightening. "Explain."

"You came in here looking for a standard corporate flip," Jake said, leaning back slightly against the bar. "You bought nineteen point seven percent on the market, hoping to leverage it into a joint executive coalition. But if we fight each other, we burn time, money, and legal resources while the company rots from the inside out."

"And if you liquidate," Sylvia countered smoothly, "my one billion marks becomes worthless paper, and your equity goes to zero. You win your personal vendetta, but you throw away a massive asset base."

"Which brings us to a far more elegant solution," Jake said, a calm, razor-sharp smile touching the corner of his lips. "Right now, the Newmans are sitting in that room looking directly into an abyss. They believe they are about to be stripped of everything, dragged through public bankruptcy courts, and ruined forever."

He paused, letting the silence stretch for a heartbeat before continuing.

"When you strip a man of all hope, he becomes desperate and unpredictable," Jake explained, his tone smooth, precise, and chillingly logical. "But if you show him the bottom of the ocean, let him suffocate for a moment, and then toss him a tiny, worthless bone... he will snatch it with both hands. He will do whatever you ask, sign whatever document you put in front of him, and thank you for saving his life."

Sylvia stared at him, her lips parting slightly in realization. The initial shock of his raw aggression in the boardroom melted away, replaced by a profound, thrilling appreciation for the psychological trap he had set.

"You’re going to make them surrender their own shares to the man who almost destroyed them," Sylvia said, her voice dropping into an awed murmur.

"Exactly," Jake confirmed, his dark eyes gleaming. "We make them sign over their stake directly to our joint vehicle in exchange for wiping away their personal debt guarantees and leaving them with a symbolic crumb. We would then hold absolute control without having to spend another mark on the market."

Sylvia let out a low, breathless exhale, a genuine, intoxicating smile finally spreading across her sharp, beautiful features.

"You didn’t just crush their stock," she murmured, looking at Jake as if seeing him clearly for the first time. "You crushed their spirits so thoroughly that they will hand over their own execution papers just to stop the bleeding. And you get total control of NEG’s core patents and real estate for pennies."

"And your one billion mark investment," Jake added smoothly, "will more than double in value the moment we announce the total removal of the Newman family and the complete restructuring of the group under Golden Investments and Sheele Group control."

Sylvia looked at him, a glint of deep admiration and dangerous intrigue dancing in her eyes. "Ruthless, Mr. Rivers. Absolute, calculated savagery. I like it."

"Then let’s go back inside," Jake said, gesturing toward the door. "And finish this."

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