Chapter 10

The suspension letter landed at 7 AM. *Pending investigation.* My scholarship, my place, my future—all frozen while the university "reviewed" the gala footage.

I was still staring at the words when my phone buzzed. Unknown number.

*Elena Marlowe. The Investment Club has a proposition. Meet us at the Old Exchange, 9 AM. Bring your nerve.*

"Could be a trap," Anton said, coffee in hand, eyes sharp.

"Probably." I grabbed my coat. "But traps can be walked through."

The Old Exchange was all marble and mahogany—money so old it didn't need to announce itself. Nadia Ashford stood at the head of a long table, her ice-blonde hair pulled back, a dozen club members flanking her like soldiers.

"You exposed corruption," she said without preamble. "Impressive. But anyone can wave documents. Can you actually *make money*?"

She slid a folder across the table. Terms of a bet. Thirty days. I pick five stocks with a starting capital of one thousand euros. The club picks five with ten thousand. Whoever's portfolio grows more wins. If I lose, I publicly retract my accusations against the Duval family and leave Kronberg permanently.

"If you win," Nadia continued, "the club publicly endorses your admission and contributes fifty thousand to your investment fund."

The trap was obvious. Mayor Duval's money, laundered through the club, designed to crush me. My thousand against their ten. The stocks they'd pick would be tipped off by his connections.

But there was an opening. They'd given me access to their trading terminal. Their arrogance was my leverage.

I read the terms twice. Then I signed.

"Elena," Anton warned from the doorway.

"Dad." I met his eyes. "I didn't come this far to play small. If I'm going to be accused of being a fraud, I might as well prove I'm the real thing."

Nadia smiled—cold, curious. "Bold. I hope you can back it up."

So did I. Because if I lost this bet, I lost everything. But if I won?

I'd have something no one could ever take from me again. My own empire.