Carter was so worked up he was stamping his foot.
"Yeah, the U.S. and Landore are at war right now, the Hormell Strait's blockaded, and oil's shot way up."
"But they've already sat down to talk. The second that strait reopens, oil's going to crash."
"By then you'll be wiped out. You won't have a dime to your name."
I nodded. I knew all of it.
Last life, after I agreed to Amelia's investment, I'd tried to learn a little about where money went, and I'd kept an eye on the markets.
I remembered it clearly: tomorrow their talks would succeed, the strait would reopen, and oil would crash.
It would keep diving until it was cut in half, dragging countless people under with it.
But thirty days after that, the U.S. would tear up the deal and restart the war.
The strait would close again, oil would go on a mad climb, and on day forty it would hit its peak.
I couldn't say too much now, though.
I just gripped his hand tight.
"Brother, help me one more time. Put every cent into forty-day oil futures."
Carter stared at me for a long moment.
Then he let out a bitter laugh.
"You really have lost your mind."
"Still, you blowing your own fortune beats letting Amelia bleed it dry."
"You've got two hundred million total. I'll put all of it in right now."
I raised a hand and cut him off.
A cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Two hundred million isn't enough. If we're playing, we play big."
Back home, a man in gold-rimmed glasses sat on the couch, looking mild and polished.
The moment he saw me, he stood and put out his hand.
"Mr. Fox, good to meet you. I'm Percival Henson, from Summit Capital."
Amelia rushed to introduce him, all warmth.
"Percival is a gold-medal investment agent. Anything he handles at least doubles!"
I shook his hand lightly, but a towering rage was already burning in my chest.
This was the animal who'd cornered me last life, the creditor who left me with nowhere to run.
When I was dying in that ring, he'd shown up with his arm around Amelia, laughing like a lunatic.
Sneering that I was a cuckold, telling me the whole thing had been their setup from the start.
All of it to seize everything I owned.
That was when I finally understood. Amelia's so-called investment was her working with her lover to siphon off the money I'd bled for.
They even wanted me dead, so the two of them could run off together.
Percival launched into his pitch, going on about real estate, boxing gyms, crypto.
Inside, I couldn't stop the cold laughter.
In this climate, putting money into any of that was no different from asking to die.
On the surface I played the rapt listener, nodding along.
Seeing me take the bait, Percival grew smug.
"Ms. Pruitt let me look over your assets. Combined valuation, a hundred and fifty million."
"Mr. Fox, I guarantee you, follow my plan and your assets will be up at least five times in a year!"
I laughed coldly to myself.
Amelia really couldn't wait. She'd already had my assets down to the last decimal.
She'd even dared to cook the books, shaving fifty million clean off my money.
I put on a tempted face.
"The returns are really that high?"
Percival's eyes lit up.
He traded a quick look with Amelia, the look of two people whose scheme was landing, then hurried to produce the contract.
"Rest assured, Mr. Fox. In our line of work, nothing matters more than reputation."
"I'd never wreck my own name."
"You sign, and I start working the moment you do!"
I picked up the pen and set the tip to the paper.
Under everyone's expectant eyes, the tip stopped short.
I gave my own head a frustrated slap.
"Oh, what a memory I've got. I can't sign this."
They all panicked at once.
Amelia blurted out, "Neal, you go back on your word like this? Are you even a man?"
I set the pen down.
Gave a helpless shrug.
"I've already put all my money into an investment."
"Even had Carter help me take out a two-hundred-million mortgage loan. Four hundred million total, all of it heavy into oil futures."
The living room went silent in an instant.
All three of them stared, eyes wide with disbelief.
"What? You bought oil?!"
