Jason stepped into the offices of Carrington Partners, one of the most respected VC firms on the East Coast.
The room was lined with oil paintings and glass awards—money and legacy stitched into the walls. Across the mahogany table sat Philip Carrington, silver-haired, hawk-eyed, and worth nearly a billion.
Next to him, Monica Liu, elegant as always, offered a sly nod.
Jason adjusted his cufflinks and got straight to it.
"I'm not looking for a check," he said. "I'm offering you a stake in the digital backbone of the next decade."
Philip's brow arched slightly. "I've heard bolder claims from younger men."
Jason smirked. "And how many of them had this?"
He tossed a tablet onto the table. On it: PulseCast's live creator earnings dashboard, updated in real-time, along with ad contracts from three Fortune 500 brands who had signed on that week.
Philip leaned forward.
"Not bad," he murmured. "But you're still a mosquito in a dragon's world. Bellamy has three times your market cap and an army of lawyers."
Jason met his gaze without blinking.
"He's built a palace on shifting sand. His audience is passive. Ours is building the stage they stand on."
Monica chimed in. "I've already committed to PulseCast's next round. What you're seeing, Philip, isn't a pitch. It's an early seat at a new table."
Philip sat back, fingers steepled.
"And what do you want from us?"
Jason's answer was clear. "Two things. Strategic protection—and doors. You open them, we walk through. And we don't just walk—we take the room."
A long pause.
Then Philip smiled faintly.
"You remind me of myself, Mr. Nash. Reckless. Certain. Dangerous."
He stood and extended a hand.
"Let's dance with dragons, then."
---
Later, outside the building, Monica joined Jason on the sidewalk.
"You just walked into the lion's den and asked for a ride."
Jason grinned. "And the lion said yes."
She turned to face him, closer now. "You know, this might be the first time I've backed someone smarter than me."
Jason looked into her eyes. "Or just someone reckless enough to make you curious."
Their moment lingered—but Jason stepped back.
"I already have someone."
Monica smiled, lips barely curled. "Then she must be exceptional."
Jason nodded.
"She is."
---
That night, Naomi was waiting for him in his apartment. She wore one of his oversized hoodies and nothing else.
He slid in beside her on the couch, tired but alive.
"I landed Carrington," he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers.
She grinned. "Of course you did."
"But I also turned down Monica Liu."
Naomi blinked. "Monica Liu. The Monica Liu?"
Jason nodded. "She was interested—in more than the business."
Naomi gave him a long look, then straddled him slowly.
"You must really like me."
Jason held her waist, smiling. "More than I've liked anything in two lifetimes."
Their kiss this time wasn't desperate.
It was promise.