At My Sister’s $5 Million Wedding, My Father Poured Wine Down My Dress and Called Me a Pathetic Spinster on the Microphone. I Made One Phone Call
Don’t let them.” Alistair’s fingers hovered over his comms.
“Authorize the London desk to absorb the first wave.
Let the bonds fall another four percent — let it sweat the cowards out.
When it hits the floor, we execute a sweeping buy through the shadow accounts.
We stabilize the market, and Valerius walks away holding a controlling stake in three major European banks by sunrise.”
“Understood, Director Pembroke.” Alistair was already turning away, relaying it into his earpiece, to desks in London and Zurich and Tokyo.
I handed back the tablet and turned, at last, to my parents.