Ultimate Cash System

Three weeks after the welcome party, the fairy lights were taken down, but their glow lingered in the air like smoke that didn't want to leave.

Lukas was back at it.

The headquarters of Facebook in Philadelphia buzzed like a second stock exchange. The main lobby had just added two new security lines. There were three secretaries per floor now. And in the topmost room, in glass and concrete, Lukas sat silent as a typhoon brewed on every screen.

Reports. Numbers. Dotted-line projections. Deals on the table. Lawsuits on the fringe. Facebook had become the talk of not just Silicon Valley but also Wall Street, Brussels, and Tokyo.

They were already prepping for IPO Stage 2, only months after their first. And with that came competitors—rising like weeds.

Yspace. Blogbounce. Tagroom.

Every second day, a new startup with seed funding popped up, claiming to be the "better Facebook." Some promised filters. Others offered forums. One even said they'd add music to profiles.

Lukas barely blinked.

He had already seen the future.

But the corporate chaos wasn't just from the outside. Inside the Facebook ranks, a new challenge was rising—control.

Now that he had sold 10%, Lukas had stakeholders. And stakeholders talked.

The board—now six people—wanted faster monetization. Ad deals. Algorithm changes. Partnerships with telecoms.

Lukas listened to all of it.

And then did none of it.

Henry walked into the glass room one morning, holding three folders. "We've got a call with Vodafone, a lunch with Siemens, and the DOJ is asking questions again about user data."

Lukas, still looking at the board of screens, asked quietly, "What about the user experience data from yesterday?"

"Up 12%."

"Then we do nothing. Let them sweat."

Henry sighed. "The board will push back."

"Let them."

But the calm couldn't last.

Two days later, at 3:04 PM, Henry burst into Lukas's office with a laptop in hand.

"You need to see this. Now."

On screen: a new platform. Simple design. Sharp branding. Uncanny resemblance.

Launched by a former intern from the summer round. Funded by an anonymous tech billionaire. Within two hours of going live, it had half a million sign-ups.

And it wasn't just a social network.

It was targeting every single feature Facebook hadn't released yet.

Lukas stood. Silent. The glow of the screen was painting harsh light on his face.

Behind him, the skyline of Philadelphia dimmed into dusk.

"Get me the legal team," he said.

Henry hesitated. "You think they stole code?"

"No," Lukas said, voice low. "They stole vision."

Then he paused.

"And someone gave it to them."

The days following Liora's celebration were anything but quiet for Lukas. The euphoria of personal milestones quickly faded into the rumble of a brewing corporate tempest. Facebook, now valued at ten billion dollars, was no longer a quiet, disruptive newcomer—it was a behemoth in the making, and that attracted not just users but also the watchful eyes of competitors, regulators, and powerful investors.

From his corner office, overlooking the bustling streets of Philadelphia, Lukas was buried in reports. Traffic spikes, server load charts, revenue forecasts, legal notices—each telling its own story. Sponsors were pressing for more visibility, advertisers demanded guarantees, and tech rivals were devising countermeasures. Every phone call seemed urgent, every meeting a critical decision point.

A thick folder marked "Urgent" landed on his desk. Inside were memos from legal teams about a potential patent infringement claim—something that could tie Facebook up in court for months, maybe years. The boardroom became a war room. Yaho was pacing, firing off strategies, while Bella scribbled possible PR angles. Even seasoned advisors looked uneasy.

Meanwhile, whispers from Silicon Valley hinted at an alliance between two major competitors, pooling resources to launch a platform eerily similar to Facebook. Lukas knew what that meant: the race was about to get brutal. Yet he remained calm, his expression unreadable as he listened to each proposal.

The challenges weren't just external. Internally, the rapid expansion had stretched teams thin. Engineers worked overnight, customer support was overwhelmed, and regional managers clashed over priorities. Lukas had to mediate disputes, approve budgets, and still find time to think about the next phase of growth.

By the end of the week, the weight of it all pressed heavily on him. And yet, amidst the storm, he felt a flicker of excitement. This was what he had built for—the test of whether Facebook could stand against the strongest winds the tech world could throw at it.

In the final meeting of the week, as Yaho detailed the latest competitor moves, Lukas leaned back in his chair, a faint smile forming. He didn't say much—just a quiet, "Let's see how far they're willing to go."

The room fell silent, everyone sensing that something big was coming.

The corporate whirlwind had finally eased its grip on Lukas. The conference calls, the heated negotiations, the restless nights spent under the glare of monitor screens—they were now receding into the background like a storm moving out to sea. For the first time in months, he could hear the quiet hum of the mansion again. The high-ceilinged halls, once echoing with the footfalls of assistants and legal advisors, now carried only the distant laughter of his small child.

It was early morning in New Bedford. Sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows of the eastern wing, casting golden patches across the marble floor. Lukas sat at the breakfast table, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, as the sound of tiny feet pattered in from the hallway. His child—dressed in a slightly oversized sweater—ran up to him, eyes bright, hair slightly messy from sleep.

Lukas scooped them up effortlessly, setting them on his lap. The scent of soap and the faint sweetness of milk lingered on them. The child reached for the coffee cup, curious, and Lukas chuckled, moving it out of reach. "Not for you, little one," he said softly. "This is grown-up fuel."

They ate breakfast together—Lukas having his eggs and toast, while his child insisted on pancakes drenched in syrup. Bella wandered in, holding a stack of fresh mail, her eyes warm but tired from the morning's chores. She placed the letters on the side table and sat opposite Lukas, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Feels strange," she said, looking out at the sprawling green lawns beyond the glass. "Not hearing you on calls all the time. The house feels… quieter."

"Good strange or bad strange?" Lukas asked.

"Good," she smiled. "But I know you. You're already planning your next big move in that head of yours."

Lukas smirked but didn't deny it. The truth was, he was thinking ahead. But for now, he was allowing himself this rare, slow morning. After breakfast, he walked with his child through the gardens. The summer air was thick with the scent of roses and freshly cut grass. The sound of distant waves from the nearby shore mixed with birdsong. He felt the tension in his shoulders melt away.

They reached the pond, where koi swam lazily under the water's surface. Lukas sat on the edge, his child leaning against him, fascinated by the flashes of orange and gold. Moments like this reminded him why he had worked so hard—why all the stress, all the late nights, and all the corporate battles had been worth it.

Later in the day, they retreated indoors. The mansion's library became their sanctuary, sunlight pouring in through the tall arched windows. Lukas read aloud from a children's book, his voice warm and steady, while his child curled up beside him, half-listening, half-drifting into a nap. Bella peeked in from the doorway, her expression soft.

By evening, the house was bathed in the orange glow of sunset. Lukas stood on the balcony with a glass of wine, watching the horizon as the last light faded. His child's laughter echoed faintly from inside. In that moment, the world outside—the valuations, the investors, the competitive Silicon Valley sharks—felt far away. Here, in his home, time slowed down.

It wasn't that the battles were over. Lukas knew challenges would come again. But tonight, in the warm embrace of his mansion and the unconditional love of his family, he allowed himself to simply be. To breathe. To live.

The days of boardroom battles and high-stakes negotiations faded into the background as Lukas's limousine rolled through the long, winding drive that led up to the mansion. The late afternoon sun bathed the sprawling estate in a golden hue, glinting off the tall windows and spilling over the manicured gardens. From a distance, the mansion didn't look like a fortress of wealth—it looked like a sanctuary. A place where the weight of the world could finally be set down.

The moment the car stopped, the front door swung open, and Bella appeared with a warm smile, holding their small child in her arms. The little one squealed with delight at the sight of Lukas, reaching out with chubby hands. Lukas didn't wait for the chauffeur to open the door; he stepped out quickly, the crunch of gravel under his polished shoes oddly grounding after weeks of corporate chaos. He crossed the drive in quick strides, scooping his child into his arms and spinning them around, laughter filling the space between father and child.

Inside, the air was fragrant with the smell of fresh bread and something simmering in the kitchen. The polished marble floors reflected the warm glow of the chandeliers, and the muffled sound of a piano drifted faintly from the music room. It felt alive here—not with the buzz of ambition and competition, but with the rhythm of family life.

Bella handed Lukas a glass of water and studied him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension still etched into his features. "You've been carrying the company on your shoulders for months," she said softly. "Maybe tonight, you can just… be here. With us."

And Lukas intended to. He took off his jacket, loosening the symbolic armor of the corporate world, and sat on the plush living room sofa. His child climbed up beside him, babbling incoherently but with the kind of joy that required no translation. They played with toy blocks while Bella moved between the kitchen and the living room, occasionally joining them on the floor, her laughter mingling with theirs.

Dinner that night was a quiet feast—roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and Bella's signature pasta, served family-style. No phone calls, no emails, no interruptions. The only screens in sight were for cartoons playing faintly in the background for their child. Lukas felt his heartbeat slow, his mind gradually unspooling from the knots it had been tied into.

Later, they wandered outside to the terrace. The garden stretched out before them, lit by small lanterns and the pale glow of the moon. Lukas held his child close, feeling the steady rise and fall of their breathing. Bella stood beside him, her hand slipping into his.

"Everything you're building… it's for them," she said, nodding toward their child.

He nodded. "For them. And for moments like this."

For the first time in a long time, Lukas didn't think about expansion plans, quarterly reports, or investor calls. He thought about bedtime stories, weekend breakfasts, and lazy Sunday afternoons. He thought about building a life, not just a legacy.

As they stepped back inside, Lukas felt a quiet resolve settling in. The world outside would always clamor for more of him—more time, more decisions, more deals. But here, in the heart of his home, he was simply Lukas. And that was enough.

The years rolled on, each one adding new chapters to Lukas's already remarkable story. The world outside continued to marvel at Facebook's expansion, but within the elegant walls of the Princeton campus, another story was being written—one that would soon astonish academia just as Lukas had shaken the tech world.

Princeton had become more than a university for Lukas. It was a forge, shaping his relentless mind into something sharper, broader, and more unshakable. Professors whispered about him in staff lounges, his papers circulated in closed circles before being published, and even his rivals respected the weight of his intellect. Lukas was not just passing his courses—he was redefining them. He would debate with visiting scholars on economic theory, code intricate algorithms in hours that took others months, and tie it all together with a vision so vast that seasoned business strategists struggled to keep up.