Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!

Darren gave him a curious look, the question drawn on his raised brow.

"I'm sorry, do you know me?" he asked him.

"Yeah. You're Darren Steele." Grant said, completely in disbelief that he was sitting next to the men that he'd been trying to speak to for weeks.

The same man he was just talking about.

"I was... I was at your company launch party."

Darren frowned. "Wow. I didn't know Rachel sent invitations to kids too. Unless—"

He narrowed his eyes at the boy. That curly brown hair, the quality of the suit, the place they were in.

"Hah!" Darren chuckled. "No way. You're Grant Hayes. Heir of Golden Hay. You don't look like you're enjoying the party."

Grant huffed. "I'm just not much of a party person. I can't believe it's really you. I've been wanting to talk to you for so long."

Darren's brow rose again, intrigued. "Talk to me? I'm not like your long lost elder brother and the true heir, am I?"

Grant laughed. "You're funny. That's a relief. I was half worried that you'd be stuck up a little."

Darren shrugged. "I have my days. So what is it that you want to talk about?"

Grant slumped his shoulders. "It's about my dad's board members and lawyers."

"They want to split it up. The whole thing. The Golden Hay Empire. Hotels, casinos, parks… everything my father built. They're saying it's 'too big for one man to steer.' They've already got charts. Forecasts. They want me to sign with MWMO as a wealth manager."

That part made Darren's ears perk up.

Everyone's saying that it's a good idea. Even my friend, Gillian— Gillian Henderson —they all say it's the best move. The goal is to become an Empire Company. Apparently now is the best time because the Bordeaux Corporation is a bit shaky in their position."

Darren leaned back slightly, watching him. "You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not," Grant muttered. "But they're all older, more experienced. They've worked with my father for years. I'm nineteen, Darren. Half the time I don't even know what they're talking about."

"And yet you haven't signed anything," Darren said, tilting his glass. "That tells me you do know something. Even if you can't say it yet."

Grant looked away. "It just doesn't feel right. They talk about profit margins and decentralization like it's math, not legacy. My dad kept it whole for a reason. Even when the market changed, even when it got hard. He said, 'An empire divided is an empire sold.'"

Darren nodded slowly. "Smart man."

Grant swallowed hard. "But they're pressuring me. Every day. Saying I'd still be chairman. That I'd still have oversight. But when I asked about Sagomoto's offer to consolidate instead of split... they shut it down. Called it small-time. Said I was being naïve."

Darren was quiet for a long beat.

Then he leaned forward, rested his elbows on the bar, and said:

"You mentioned that your friend, Gillian Henderson is also pushing you to make the move. Doesn't Gillian Henderson's family own Franchise Hotels and Casinos?"

Grant sighed. "Eh. I know how it looks."

"There's how it looks and what it is. These lawyers and board members clearly have wanted to do this when your father was in power. With you, they think they have a better chance. You're more vulnerable to them. So it'll be naive to think they're guiding you, Grant. They're cornering you. Dressing it up as strategy, but it's a power grab."

Grant looked over, eyes wary.

"You think so?"

"I'm a betting man. If I think it, I know it." Darren replied. "When someone tells you to break apart the thing your father spent his life keeping whole, and calls it 'progress,' what they're really saying is: it's easier to eat the pieces than it is to swallow a lion."

Grant blinked.

Darren continued, voice calm but razor-sharp. "And for MWMO, they're most likely the best wealth management company that'll help them achieve this. I promise if you look into it, you'll see they've been planning this for a while."

"Sagomoto's idea wasn't flashy, but it was loyal to the core. It kept you in control. And they knew it. That's why they killed it."

"But they said—"

"They always say you're still in charge," Darren cut in. "Chairman this, chairman that. But they'll bury you under board votes and legal clauses until all you have left is a title— and no teeth. Think of some of the presidents we've had in this great country. Do you think it was always really them in power? Or did they just have the title while others in the shadows ruled?"

Grant gripped the edge of the bar.

"I don't know who to trust."

"That's by design," Darren said. "When everyone's wearing your father's suit and smiling with your enemies' teeth, confusion becomes their greatest weapon."

Silence fell.

Then Darren reached into his jacket, pulled out a matte-black card, and slid it onto the bar.

Grant picked it up slowly.

"Steele Investments. Your company's card."

"If you ever need an ally company, mine is as tough as Steele. My law team knows how to fight wolves in boardrooms," Darren said. "If you want to push back, not just delay the fall, I can show you how."

Grant's voice was barely above a whisper. "Why are you helping me?"

Darren looked at him, steady. "Oh, I'm no Clark Kent. This isn't just me being noble. I've seen this play before. And it always ends the same— unless someone decides to flip the board. You're a kid, so I feel indebted to help you. But you also run a billion dollar empire, and I can not pretend like something like that couldn't be of any value to me in the future."

Grant stared at the card.

It felt heavy in his hand.

For the first time all night, he let out a breath that didn't tremble.

"Thank you, Mr. Steele. But... I still don't know what I'm doing," he admitted.

"Then it's time you learned," Darren said. "But not from them."

He rose, set his glass down, and gave Grant one last look.

"When you're ready to stop surviving and start leading— call me."

Then he walked away.

And this time, Grant didn't feel quite so alone.