Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!
Chapter 226 - 226: Off Limits

"EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU ARE PAID HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS JUST SO THAT THINGS LIKE THIS NEVER HAPPEN!"

Thunder seemed to be roaring from a particular building in the busy city of Los Alverez.

It came from the meeting room on the thirty-seventh floor of Morrison Tower where tension was pulsing. The ceiling lights, pristine and bright, illuminated the polished room where Richard Morrison stood, fists clenched, jaw locked.

Around him, his legal team and senior board members exchanged nervous glances. Laptops open, papers in hand, but no one dared speak.

Richard's face was as red as a balloon.

"SO TELL ME HOW?!" he roared, slamming his palm against the table. The sound echoed across the massive conference room. "How did a twenty-one-year-old brat get the jump on us? That branch was protected! We had full control!"

"Sir, please—"

"Don't 'sir' me, Kepler! You're my Head of Legal Affairs and you're telling me we didn't see this coming? That we couldn't block it?!"

He pranced around, thinking to himself, muttering out loud. "A building that I made myself from nothing. It is now owned by a Bitcoin enthusiast! Do you know how disgraceful that is to my reputation?!"

Kepler pushed up his glasses, sweating despite the air conditioning. "We really tried our best, sir."

"Tried your best! If your best means my branches get overrun by a boy in a suit then your best is absolutely worthless!"

"The acquisition was done through a debt buyout, sir. Whistleblower filings were used as a cover. Initiated regulatory audits against the branch using detailed documentation — mostly tied to billing irregularities, supplied staff abuse records, and health violations under the tenures of nurses like Helen Gresby."

"Which you all assured me were dealt with internally," Richard seethed.

"Yes, but he timed it perfectly. While the audit was underway, he leveraged shell trusts to approach a network of minority shareholders. We confirmed at least seven purchases — all through layered LLCs and offshore proxies."

"You mean to tell me we got ambushed in our own fucking house and none of you spotted it?" He paced around the room like a caged lion.

"Sir, even the holding company used to mask the shell firms was a registered religious medical relief trust. We never had eyes on it."

Richard stared, veins pulsing. "And now he's the majority holder?"

"Yes… 52.4%. We only confirmed the consolidation late last night. The transaction logs were obscured until the final name was updated on the registry — his."

Someone else whispered, "He even filed the asset security transfer with the Department of Health before we could respond…"

"Why was I not informed the moment his name appeared?"

"Because, sir," another lawyer said cautiously, "he delayed announcing it publicly and filed it under a dormant trustee clause that only notifies the old board after a seven-day period. It's… it's legal."

Silence.

Richard clenched his jaw, eyes twitching with fury. 'That clever bastard. He thought of everything.'

"The only thing we can do is file an appeal with the Ethics Acquisition Board and hope to overturn the sale under technicality."

"Appeal?" Richard's voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "We're Morrison's®. We don't appeal. We annihilate."

He turned his back to them, fists clenched behind him.

But before he could explode again, a knock at the door. One of his aides rushed in, face pale.

"Sir… Archibald Mooney is here."

That got everyone's attention. The color drained from Richard's own face.

He stood, smoothing his suit with a trembling hand. "Everyone," he muttered hoarsely. "Return to your offices. Now."

They didn't need to be told twice. The board cleared out with a rush of tapping shoes and whispered curses.

Alone, Richard walked into his private office, grunting as he passed the ornate gold trim of the doorframe. "Damn man thinks he's God," he muttered under his breath.

He sat down behind his desk, pretending to scroll through financial projections.

Down the hall, the floor was silent. Secretaries pretended to type, eyes on their screens as Archibald Mooney walked through, dressed immaculately in a pale grey three-piece suit, his hair slicked back, silver tie bar gleaming. A single bodyguard flanked him, silent as death.

They stopped at Richard's door. Archibald gestured. "Wait here."

He knocked.

"Come in," Richard said, lifting his head.

The door opened.

Archibald stepped inside, with regal gait and movement. His eyes drifted to the large abstract painting mounted above Richard's cabinet.

"Still collecting overpriced art, I see," he mused, stepping in.

Richard stood, smiling tightly. "Archibald. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Archibald walked slowly around the office, fingertips grazing a crystal decanter set, then a framed certificate.

"Things seem... very calm here," he said with a half-smirk. "Unusually calm, wouldn't you say?"

Richard shrugged, trying to sound casual. "It's Monday. You know how it is — start of the week. Everyone's buried in paperwork."

Archibald turned to face him. "Any problems you'd like to tell me about?"

"None come to mind," Richard replied, smiling stiffly.

Archibald nodded slowly. Then his eyes narrowed. "You lost the Macaulay Street branch. I heard it changed ownership. Darren Steele now holds the deed. You know, when I was told that, I laughed. I mean... I couldn't believe it. That hospital was built by you, owned by you. And yet... a child has it now."

Richard chuckled nervously. "Ah, yes. That. Well, I had been thinking about selling it for some time. Liquidating a few assets, you understand. We sold it off through a series of equity deals — perfectly normal."

Archibald laughed once. A bitter sound.

"Tell me something... Richard..."

"...Do I look like a man born yesterday? Selling the Macaulay Branch? One of your most profitable arms? To a boy who annihilated your friend, leading to the ruination of many businesses in the state, to which he also took profit?" He took a step forward. "Richard. Your pettiness may not be your best trait, but it's certainly your loudest."

Richard's shoulders sagged.

Archibald's voice dropped an octave. "Now tell me. What really happened? What... did you do?"

Richard sighed, defeated. "I went after Darren's shares in Holloway Medicals. Quietly. Through shell firms. Offshore proxy buys. Thought I could pressure him, take control before he noticed."

Archibald raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. He noticed."

"Yes. Somehow. Despite every precaution, he traced the moves. He warned Holloway before we could secure majority control. Then he struck back — hard. Leveraged liens. Used the same strategy but better. Brought the law and ethics board into it. Pulled strings I didn't even know he had."

Archibald looked at his friend with resignation. "Why do you people always make moves behind my back?"

"I didn't think I needed permission to attack a rival."

"Spare me the nonsense, Richie," Archibald growled. "I spoke to my son. You think Tyler can keep secrets from me? I own that boy. Like a dog on an invisible leash. You asked him to block Trendteller's expansion filing. Yet somehow, that asset has now been approved and ready for export to China, Dubai, Nigeria, and the EU."

Richard's eyes widened. "What?"

Archibald leaned in, eyes like blades.

"Now let me make this clear. That boy? Darren Steele is off-limits."

Richard frowned. "What?"

"I do not want anyone attacking him or his business, attempting anything funny, interfering with his personal life and his allies. He's protected by me. He's my project. And anyone who tries anything against him is testing my patience."

Richard stood stunned. "You're protecting that kid? Why?!"

Archibald bellowed, "Because he's a kid, you idiot! And you're a grown man. The fact that that boy can stand up to people like us shows that he's not an ordinary person who made it here by mistake! This is not luck. This is not accident. He is something else completely."

Silence.

Archibald took a deep breath and straightened. "I've spoken to my son and his stupid friends, Singh and the one whose company is on the fall, Jaxon. Everyone should stand down and leave Darren Steele alone."

"And, Richie, everyone includes... You."

A heavy silence followed.

"Am I understood?"

Richard lowered his eyes. "Yes. Yes, you are."