Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin! Chapter 185: Fixer's Offer

It had been a tumultuous saga so far. One that already tested the depths of Darren's resilience, ntal strength and acun.

It began when Grant Hayes awoke to a devastating reality: his executive powers at Golden Hay had been frozen, effectively barring him from his own empire.

The board, under the direction of Vector Callahan, had executed a swift and complete lockdown of his authority. In desperation, Grant had reached out to Darren, who had promptly assembled his war team.

Vance and Daisy had imdiately set to work drafting legal counterasures, their rapid response aid at countering the crisis that threatened to consu their ally.

As Darren had delved deeper into the situation, his team had uncovered critical intelligence.

Kara had discovered that three board mbers were financially linked to MWMO, a conflict of interest that presented a potential vulnerability.

Determined to do more than just defend, Darren had vowed to strike offensively, targeting the board's weaknesses.

Concurrently, Gillian Henderson had t with his father, Donald Henderson, a terminally ill tycoon whose ambition remained undiminished. Donald had revealed the hidden value of Golden Hay's casino division— secret policies, land rights, and concealed financial advantages that made it a prize worth any cost.

Gillian, resolute and calculating, had pledged to fulfill his father's vision, vowing to eliminate all opposition, with Darren Steele as a primary target.

Darren had taken the fight to the heart of the enemy, boldly crashing a private board eting at Golden Hay Headquarters. Ard with intimidation, legal threats, and insights from his system, he had confronted the board directly, unsettling their confidence.

But the audacious move seed to have only made matters worse because the Hendersons' control over the casino division got even tighter.

After Ryan's Delvarate plan fell on his face, he had called Gillian, urgently demanding that he instill more force in the take over so he could capitalize and attack Darren at a ti when he expected it less.

Gillian, proving to be more strategic than expected, had entered Golden Hay Headquarters and verified the activation of a hidden clause that would permanently exclude Grant from the company after 96 hours of silence.

The board, swayed by Gillian's authority, had voted to transfer the casino division to Donald Henderson's control. Yet Gillian, with calculated patience, had delayed the final filing, a strategic choice to draw out any remaining adversaries before locking the deal in place.

And the depth of Grant's ordeal was finally revealed: he was confined to a small, windowless office within Golden Hay's headquarters. He had been systematically isolated, his connections to the outside world severed.

Gillian's operatives had worked discreetly, thodically erasing Grant's presence from the corporate frawork. Darren and his team, piecing together the clues, had realized Grant was missing, grasping the chilling extent of Gillian's ruthlessness.

Amid this intensifying conflict, Darren's system interface had presented a new quest: [Restore the Heir].

The promised reward was a potent passive skill, [Monopoly on the Law of Business], which would tilt legal outcos in his favor, a critical advantage in the corporate arena.

Fueled even more by this opportunity, Darren had initiated a counter-strategy, contacting minor shareholders and tracing a $70 million transfer from Donald's covert accounts, a financial lifeline sustaining the Hendersons' power grab.

And then they got the na, Cale Donovan, a forr fixer for Donald Henderson, now in obscurity but potentially holding vital information to expose the Hendersons' plans.

Darren had tasked Alia with locating him discreetly, and that was what she was here, once again in Nevarro, to do.

The sky over the city was grey and quiet. Alia stepped out of the vehicle dispatched to her by Steele Investnts, her heels clicking against cracked pavent.

She rembered the sa sll this town had. Salt and rust — nothing like Los Alverez.

Ahead stood the deteriorating structure of a seaside motel. Faded paint, shattered neon, curtains that hadn't been drawn in years.

This was where Cale Donovan had ended up.

The man who once moved millions through dummy trusts, the man who had made the Henderson empire immune to tax probes, was now hiding in a room that didn't even have working heat.

She got to the door and knocked once.

No answer.

Knocked again.

After waiting a while, she lifted her hand to knock one more ti, but the door cracked open.

"You're prettier than I expected," said a voice. Low, tired, and deeply suspicious.

Cale Donovan erged from the shadows — unshaven, hunched, but with eyes sharp as hell. He didn't invite her in. He just turned and walked away.

"Mr Donovan. I'm happy you agreed to et with ."

"I'm not. Just tell what you want."

"Franchise Casinos screwed you," Alia said as she stepped in. "I know it. You know it. The question is — what are you going to do about it?"

Cale gave a dry laugh. "Hah! Is that your pitch? What a way to start, eh? And here I thought you ca to blackmail ."

"No," she replied smoothly. "Darren Steele doesn't blackmail. He offers chances."

"Eh. I've heard of the bloke. I don't believe everything I hear though. But co in! Co in!"

Alia carefully entered, the security dispatched with her, joining behind her.

The room was cold and slled of old paper. On the table were stacks of records and faded blueprints. Cale lit a cigarette with shaky fingers, then gestured to the chair opposite, eyeing the burly man in black.

"We spoke in depth on the phone, and I've had enough ti to think about it. So this is what I'll say; You wanna know what Donald Henderson buried? I'll tell you," he said. "But I want a deal."

"I'm listening."

"I want a financial contract. I want out of this town. I want new ID. And I want security. Real security. Not so guy with a pistol. Soone like this hulk you've got over here."

Alia nodded. "Fair."

He reached into a tattered briefcase and pulled out a flash drive. Then, he clicked on an ancient laptop. The screen flickered alive.

"I don't know if you all really understand the gravity of what you're doing. You think you're just fighting for Grant Hayes," Cale muttered. "But that's not all of it. You're standing in the way of the final consolidation. Franchise and Golden Hay. Donald's last wish before he croaks."

Alia frowned. "And what is Gillian's?"

"Ehh... that young fucker. Gillian's already moved." He opened a file labeled Asset Realignnt: Phase III.

On screen appeared:

A list of dummy companies: Lanneth Holdings, Broken Star LLC, Calstone Equities.

A diagram showing how Donald funneled casino revenue through off-book shell firms, transferring portions to Franchise-managed trusts.

A map of international wire transfers routed through fake holding accounts in Dubai, Ontario, and Lagos.

"This is how they're hiding the full value of the casino vote," Cale explained. "Gillian's redirecting the cash flow before the vote is publicly audited. Once it's done, even if Grant returns, there'll be nothing left to fight for."

Alia stared in disbelief. "How long have they been planning this?"

"Heh. I'd say forever but you'd think I'm exaggerating." Cale leaned back. "In fact, Franchise was preparing to acquire this massive land strip in Nevarro, it was old, but was handpicked as a great land for luxury developnt. They wanted a new flagship casino-resort, sothing outside the Golden Hay brand."

Alia's face paled. "What land?"

"An offcast industrial warehouse. This guy nad Brittle owned it."

She stared. 'Brittle?'

Was that the sa warehouse that she and Ryan Anders had fought for a few weeks ago. He had been representing one of his clients, so it was Franchise Casinos.

Cale's eyes darkened. "What's weird is that that dude is dead. Brittle. He died last Thursday."

Silence.

Alia's heart thudded, not certain of what she had just heard. "What?!"