Chapter 316 - 201: No Turning Back
"Very professional. You live up to your title as the head of the special regulatory group." Li Wei nodded, satisfied. "I’d like to express my gratitude."
Hearing Li Wei’s affirmation, Colin’s taut nerves finally relaxed a little.
"However, Director Colin, if you’re going to help, you should see it through to the end." Li Wei said suddenly. "I need something else. Substantive evidence that Julian instructed you to issue the freeze order and interfere with the federal review."
"I’m sorry," Colin shook his head, "I don’t have that."
"I’m currently working with the Johnson Group to establish a large-scale sports rehabilitation fund for young people. In the future, my personal business empire will also expand rapidly. Whether I’m dealing with the Internal Revenue Service or financial regulators," Li Wei said after a moment of thought, "I will need a compliance consultant who truly knows the ropes and understands federal tax and anti-money laundering laws. So, even if I were to offer you a hefty consulting fee, would your answer still be no?"
When a billionaire like Li Wei said "hefty," it was certainly going to be a massive sum—high enough to solve any problem.
But Colin still shook his head with a bitter smile. "I’m sorry, Mr. Li Wei, but I have no recordings or evidence to prove he instructed me to issue the temporary freeze order."
"He’s extremely cautious," he explained. "Julian gave me a USB drive containing organized, non-public information. Even if we used this to sue him, we couldn’t prove his motive. He could easily claim that I made my own judgment call after receiving the data."
Li Wei nodded. "Alright, I understand. Go ahead and rescind the temporary freeze for now. Thank you for your trouble."
「Friday at noon, during the lunch break.」
In the senior partner’s office at the JPMorgan Chase headquarters in Midtown Manhattan.
Julian stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows with a glass of Scotch whisky, gazing down at the bustling traffic of Wall Street. He was already starting to calculate how he would celebrate once he got his hands on that 500 million USD asset management package.
’Once I get promoted to head of assets for the North American Region, my future will be completely different,’ he thought.
Just then, an email notification popped up on the encrypted terminal on his desk.
Julian walked over with a smile and clicked open the email:
[System Notification: Change in pre-approval for cross-border fund settlement. The associated FinCEN temporary freeze review (SAR) has been voluntarily rescinded by Colin, head of the special regulatory group. Funds are expected to enter the New York Clearing House next Monday.]
"WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!"
Julian’s hand trembled, and the whisky spilled directly onto his Brioni suit trousers.
He stared at the screen in disbelief, then snatched the phone from his desk and frantically dialed Colin’s private number.
The only response he got was a mechanical voicemail recording, saying that Colin had taken his annual leave and gone on a trip with his family.
"Colin, you son of a bitch, how dare you screw me over!"
Julian roared with fury in his office, violently slamming the phone onto his desk. It instantly shattered into pieces.
Julian subconsciously glanced at his watch. It was already Friday.
Once the funds entered the New York Clearing House, it would be difficult for him to block them with his level of authority.
Damn it. He’d had enough time when he first went to Mark. But it wasn’t just Mark; even that cowardly son of a bitch Colin had chickened out.
Just then, his other phone suddenly rang.
Julian groaned. It felt like a rhino was tap-dancing on his temples.
"Adam," he answered the phone, his voice weary. "I’m listening."
"Julian, what’s going on?" Adam’s voice was sharp as a knife. "It’s been this long, and Elizabeth’s foundation is still operating as usual. Are you even paying attention to those funds?"
At that moment, Julian suddenly wished he could just chicken out like Colin.
"I... I am paying attention. I reached out to a few friends, but they couldn’t do anything—"
"I don’t care what methods you use," Adam’s voice was devoid of emotion. "If that 50 million USD in bridge funding successfully passes through the system and lands in that little blonde’s account before the New York Clearing House completes today’s final settlement, my client will transfer the 500 million USD asset management package to Goldman Sachs."
Julian opened his mouth, about to explain, but Adam immediately delivered the final blow.
"Not only that, my client will also re-evaluate JPMorgan Chase’s eligibility as a clearing bank," Adam paused. "I’m sure that even if I don’t reveal who my client is, you can imagine his scale. When that time comes, I won’t have to lift a finger; your board of directors will have your hide. Good luck, Julian."
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP.
The call was ruthlessly disconnected.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
Julian grabbed his hair with both hands, pacing his office in a contained rage, jabbing his elbows at the air.
He opened his laptop and stared intently at the clearing terminal on the screen.
There were only a few hours left before the New York Clearing House closed for settlement today. If he wanted to, he could plug in his Managing Director (MD) digital key right now and use JPMorgan Chase’s internal anti-money laundering compliance regulations to forcibly block the money on the grounds of "suspected high-risk funds."
But without a warning from the Financial Crimes Enforcement Bureau, which Colin represented, if he recklessly used his authority to intercept an interbank transaction and it all came to light, he alone would have to bear all the legal risks and take the fall!
This was precisely why he hadn’t wanted to leave his digital signature in the first place and had approached Director Colin—he didn’t want anyone to have any leverage on him.
’Sign, or not sign?’
’Intercept the funds, or watch 500 million USD fly away and my career go down in flames?’
Julian’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand. Intense anxiety and fear made him tremble all over. His temples throbbed violently, as if they were about to explode at any moment.
He looked at his hands and saw that they were shaking uncontrollably.
"No..." His right hand clamped down on his left. "I have to calm down. I need to focus... I can’t panic..."
He muttered to himself, walked to his desk, and opened the bottom drawer.
He rummaged around for his secret weapon. Whenever he faced a life-or-death gamble like this, he needed it to give him confidence, focus, and decisiveness.
However, after tearing the drawer apart, he pulled out the small box only to find he’d unknowingly used up his entire stash. All that remained was a pathetic dusting of white powder around the edges, not even enough for a single dose.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
Julian forcefully tapped the box, dabbed his finger in the pitiful amount of powder, and desperately rubbed it on his gums. But the minuscule dose did nothing to quell the storm of anxiety raging in his brain; instead, it only intensified the clawing, desperate craving.
Empty! It had to be empty at the worst possible moment!
Veronica!
He thought of the woman, his muse who made him tear his hair out. If Veronica were willing, he would divorce his wife in a heartbeat and marry her.
If she agreed to sign a prenuptial agreement, that is.
He glanced at the wall clock. There were still a few hours before the final settlement at 6 p.m. He needed to calm down.
He slammed his laptop shut, stuffed it into his briefcase, and rushed out, not even bothering to change the suit trousers stained with whisky, carrying the heavy computer bag.
"Mr. Julian, you have two executive meetings this afternoon..." Liu Kai, who was about to give Julian a report at the door, was startled to see him burst out like a madman (Chapter 120).
"Cancel them all! And nobody is to contact me today!"
Julian yelled back without turning around.
The traffic in Midtown Manhattan on a Friday afternoon was always maddening, but Julian’s new Ferrari wove aggressively through the cars like a frenzied beast. The ugly whisky stain was still on his trousers, but he couldn’t care less.
"BANG!"
He violently shoved open the door to Veronica’s penthouse apartment without any appointment.
In the living room, a pot-bellied man who looked like a tech executive was fumbling with his belt.
"Get out!" Julian felt like his head was about to explode.
"Hey! Who the fuck are you? Don’t you know the rules!"
"Get out!"
The middle-aged man was intimidated by his cannibalistic gaze and scrambled to grab his jacket and get out the door.
Veronica, wearing that familiar silk robe, walked out from the inner room. Seeing the state Julian was in, she frowned slightly. "Julian, are you in deep trouble? You look like a complete madman!"
"The stuff, you got any more?" Julian cut to the chase. "Ketamine."
Veronica sighed, turned, and took a small box from a drawer, handing it to him. Then she watched as he made a pathetic spectacle of himself in front of her.
Revitalized, Julian suddenly felt like a lion, desire swelling within him.
He spun around and, like a beast that had regained its strength, pounced on Veronica, throwing her down onto the large sofa.
His movements were not the least bit gentle, bordering on abusive. Veronica endured the discomfort without making a sound.
A few minutes later, with a muffled groan, Julian rolled over and collapsed onto the sofa, his eyes gradually regaining their sanity.
"I need your opinion," Julian said. "It’s about that same thing from before."
Veronica gathered her disheveled robe and sat up.
"You’re terrifying right now, Julian," she said, lighting a slim cigarette and taking a deep drag. "You’re like a gambler who’s in too deep to quit."
"Yeah," Julian sighed. "I’m already in way too deep."
"Don’t," Veronica said. "My answer is the same as before. Don’t do it."
"But there’s no turning back for me now," Julian rolled onto his side to look at her. "It’s too late. I have to make a decision before 6 p.m. today."
"Good thing you’re not like some of my special clients," Veronica sneered. "They can last longer in one session than you do with me in a whole year. By the time they’re done, the sun has already set."
Julian ignored Veronica’s mockery, instead staring at her profile. "I’m going to take the risk," he said. "I have to."
"Since you already have the answer in your heart," Veronica blew a smoke ring, "why did you have to come running to me like a madman to ask?"
"I just wanted to be sure," Julian said calmly, sitting up and straightening his rumpled shirt. "Often, when you’re facing a difficult choice and decide to flip a coin, you already know which side you truly want the moment the coin is in the air. I needed to hear you say ’no’ so I could be even more certain that I fucking want to see this gamble through to the end."
He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the traffic below.
Unlike bustling, noisy, and crowded Manhattan, the Upper East Side was always quiet.
"When this is all over," he turned his head, his tone serious, "marry me."
"Are you crazy?" Veronica shrugged. "I’m a prostitute, you know. You just kicked out my last client."
"I’m not crazy," Julian said. "I’m serious."
"So are you going to pull that Wall Street crap again?" Veronica teased, not taking him seriously. "Make me sign a prenup, use me for free for a while, and then kick me to the curb? My answer is: no!"
"No," Julian stared into Veronica’s eyes. "No prenup."
Veronica froze for a moment, looking at Julian with a hint of seriousness for the first time, then went back to smoking her cigarette.
"Then let’s talk after your business is settled."
she said, nonchalantly flicking the ash from her cigarette.