Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 1234

Truthfully, the core squad Mira had assembled consisted heavily of her immediate circle. Dean Henderson had been her mentor, and the two had spent countless hours at the university locked in intense debates over market theory.

Wesley was her trusted senior, while Owen and Ethan were inherently loyal. Dominic was her staunch political backer; though, technically, he had appointed her as the leader of this operation, not the other way around.

Ultimately, Dominic held the ultimate bureaucratic authority.

Those without a personal connection to Mira made up barely half the room.

This wasn't a case of Mira playing favorites. Her inner circle was comprised of ruthless, elite operators, and their long-standing dynamic allowed for seamless, telepathic coordination.

When she gave an order, they executed it with zero hesitation, completely bypassing the agonizing bureaucracy and debate that normally bogged down a war room.

The rest of the task force was delegated to secondary logistical operations.

Following the massive second wave of capital injection, the core stocks surged violently upward. As the numbers continued a steady climb, a collective sigh of relief swept through the room.

Engaging in open financial warfare against international consortiums—especially when attempting to manipulate the core assets of a global superpower like Mavaria—required capital injections measured in the tens of billions.

And that staggering war chest was built entirely on the blood, sweat, and desperate sacrifices of everyday citizens.

The psychological pressure was utterly suffocating.

Even though Mira and her team were legally shielded from the fallout of a total collapse, the moral weight was agonizing. If a miscalculation allowed foreign predators to vaporize the nation's wealth,

they would become the most hated villains in Mavarian history.

Living with that level of guilt would have been impossible. Thankfully, their aggressive gamble was finally showing a tangible return.

"Are the international consortiums moving in yet?"

one of the analysts asked nervously.

Jude immediately capitalized on the opening. "He makes a fair point. I understand the Mavarian psyche. They may not have endless liquidity, but they are pathologically proud. They operate on this archaic concept of national honor.

In historical wars, they literally chose death over surrender. Financial warfare is no different to them.

They would rather burn every last cent they own than watch us dictate their markets and crash their economy into the dirt."

His words struck a chord, and the room instantly erupted with predatory impatience. "Exactly! That's precisely how they operate! This is the opportunity of a lifetime—execute the trades now!"

These massive Wall Street syndicates operated under a strict, unwritten code: they debated relentlessly in private, but when they struck, they moved as an unstoppable, synchronized force.

They believed in the principle that a massive fleet was impossible to capsize, and they wielded their collective financial terror like a weapon of mass destruction.

Staring at the towering, green daily candlestick charts of Mavaria's core stocks, the Wall Street billionaires were practically salivating with greed. In the ruthless world of high finance, every second of hesitation meant a higher entry point, and a higher entry point meant leaving billions of dollars on the table.