LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 167: Don't Invest in Fools
"I'm still waiting for you," Olivia said softly, her voice nearly lost to the wind.
Darren pocketed his keys, folding his arms loosely.
"You're more outspoken than you were in college," he remarked.
Olivia instantly felt a wave of nervousness strike her, causing her eyelids to flutter. She looked away. "I didn't think you noticed me then. You were all over Alison, and then Lily."
A soft breeze rattled the banners above them, the city glowing behind the rooftop like a patient witness. She stood by the edge, green hair catching the light, arms folded tightly across her chest.
"Of course I noticed you. But if I didn't have a chance with the louder girls, there was no way I was gonna try my luck on the reserved ones."
Olivia's brows creased. "That doesn't— I don't know, Darren."
"It's by the way," he said.
"Yes. By the way."
They stayed quiet for a while, looking at each other.
"I just…" Olivia hesitated, voice a little less sharp than earlier, "I want to know… why didn't you support me? Earlier. In there."
Darren tilted his head slightly, watching her.
"You really want to know?"
She nodded once.
He tapped the key against his palm. "Then tell me. What exactly are you building?"
She frowned, caught off guard. "What?"
"Your company," he said. "Assume I know nothing. What is it?"
Olivia exhaled and stepped closer. Her tone shifted — now crisp, measured. This was her domain.
"It starts with digital IP," she said. "Content brands. Video, articles, curated personalities, and radio podcasts, and they will be all under one roof. Everything owned is in-house. Not farmed out or dependent on ad scraps."
He said nothing, just listened.
"But that's just the foundation," she continued. "Once we have traffic, presence, voice, we use it as a launchpad. A controlled ecosystem. We test product concepts inside our own media, grow them quickly, and if they work, we spin them out."
"So not just any incubator then," Darren said. "It's a digital incubator."
Olivia nodded. "Exactly. Facebook, Instagram, MySpace and others. We know how much media feeds data. And data feeds growth. It's agile, scalable, and we keep control of every layer: audience, product, and brand."
She paused, studying him now. "I thought maybe you didn't believe in the model. Thought it wasn't strong enough. But I've done the numbers. We've outlined projections. Even worse-case, we turn profit year two."
Darren looked out over the city.
"I believe in the model," he said finally. "It's not the idea that's broken, Olivia."
She blinked. "Then what?"
He turned toward her, his voice low and firm.
"You were asking me to fund Jaxon Daniels and Amir Singh," he said. "Not just you."
Her brows pulled together. "What does that mean?"
"You're working with Jaxon Daniels, who works for D&D Exports, known and suspected of illegal transportation of goods and weapons. And Amir Singh whose car company is two billion dollars in debt."
Olivia chuckled nervously. "But that doesn't really mean anything."
"It means reason, drive, motive. Because of these various things affecting their separate companies, they can act out of desperation and betray you. They've got their hands too deep already. And I assure you they're already planning their exit. One that doesn't involve you."
Her mouth parted, disbelief flickering in her eyes. "You don't know that."
"I do," he said calmly.
Her voice rose slightly. "How?"
Darren didn't answer immediately. He just watched her. Like someone reading the end of a story before anyone else knew it had started.
"Call it instinct," he said. "Call it pattern recognition. Or call it what it really is— a trail of actions no one's watching but me."
Olivia folded her arms tighter. "You're just guessing."
"I'm observing," he replied. "I promise that if you check, you'll see that they're already speaking to private backers. Quiet meetings, late nights, hush-hush NDA drafts with names you haven't seen. If I wanted to steal your company, I'd file a trademark prep. Pretty sure they've already done that. New holding entity, and yours won't be on it."
Color drained from her face.
"Check it if you think I'm guessing," he said. "You'll see it. Del. Registry. Draft name: Anything that isn't your name. Most likely Jaxon's idea, but it'll be from one of Amir's contacts."
She looked away quickly, swallowing hard.
"They wouldn't do that."
Darren arched a brow.
She shook her head, more to convince herself than him. "They said I was essential. That this was my vision."
"They need you to open doors," Darren said flatly. "But they don't need you to cash out."
Silence stretched between them, heavy as stone.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked quietly.
He shrugged. "Because I don't invest in fools. And I don't invest in passengers. But I do invest in people who know when they've been dealt a bad hand, and have the guts to fold before it buries them."
Her hands trembled slightly, hidden beneath her coat.
For a long while, Olivia said nothing. The wind tugged at her hair, the cigarette long forgotten on the ground.
Then, with a breath that seemed to scrape her ribs, she asked:
"…What do I have to do?"
Darren didn't smile. He just responded like a man stating terms in a war he's already won.
"You hesitate. Check what I asked and cut them out after," he said. "Quietly. Or loudly. Doesn't matter. But do it before they finish paperwork. Walk away clean. Start over with your name intact."
"And if I do?"
"Then I'll help you," Darren said, reaching into his coat and offering her a card. "You'll build your company. Not theirs. And I'll make sure the past doesn't follow. A huge investment, perhaps one of our biggest considering the scale of this."
She took the card with steady fingers, but her gaze didn't leave his.
"…You'd really do that?"
"Don't act like it's charity, Olivia," he said. "As for now, you have clarity. That's a start if we're to do business. Meet me in my office when you're ready and let's start building this."
She looked down at the card— sleek, matte black, embossed in silver:
Steele Investments. Darren Steele.
Then she looked back up, and on her lips was a thin, bitter smile.
"You know," she said, voice barely holding steady, "I had a..."
Darren blinked. "Yeah?"
Olivia shook her head. "Never mind. Thank you for this. I guess we'll meet at your office."
Darren nodded at her once and walked to his car. The Reventon's lights blinked once.
As he pulled the door open, she called softly behind him:
"Help me come up with a name!"
He glanced back, an expressionless look on his face, and then a knowing smile broke through.
"Olive Run Capital."
Then he got in and drove off, leaving Olivia with a flabbergasted expression on her face.
"That was..." she muttered, "that was the name I came up with…"