So this is what it all comes down to.

This is what I do. You're going to see me in action today. We’re going to make Dirty Lil’ Angels a giant fucking company.

All the paperwork is over. All the hoops jumped through.

I'm standing next to my Treasury Operations team. They sit next to the trading floor that takes up the majority of the Hard Times main floor. The Treasury folks control the money. They're in Finance, and without them we wouldn't know what kind of positions we're in during our trading day.

Let me put it to you another way.

Let's say that I have one hundred million dollars. And I invest it in a company that starts paying me back 10 million a month for twenty months. That means that at the end, I'll be getting back two hundred million dollars. But that's only over the course of twenty months.

So each month I get back ten million dollars.

So what am I doing with that cash? I'm gonna have to re-invest it. But I'm also going to have to pay regulatory fees and taxes. And I'm going to have to make sure that I have enough coming back to tide me over till the next ten million comes in from the first investment.

Now instead of just one investment, imagine this is for several hundred.

Right.

Blows your mind away, doesn't it? And that's why we have a Treasury ops department.

See, people like Drake, they're all flash and little substance. They make the big sales, close the big deals, and then they think the hard part is over. But the back office bean counters—the accountants—they're the ones who keep the fucking firm running.

Seriously, rule number fucking one on Wall Street should really be never to disparage the fucking back office. Because they will fucking make or break you.

Anyways, I really hope your eyes aren't glassing over at this point with my explanation.

I had to give you a little bit of a rundown so you could understand what I was doing sitting here.

Today's the day.

Today's the day that we're going to make the first $450 million dollar investment into Dirty Lil' Angels.

Take it from a cottage shop run out of Natalie's living room and Facebook and make it into one of the leaders in the sex toy appliance manufacturing. In the matter of six fucking months, they'll be the Apple or Samsung of fuck toys.

Treasury is going to be releasing the funds once my CFO approves it. There's a long chain of corporate governance here.

First my CFO has to approve the release of the funds to Treasury. That's when Treasury approves the payments to the bank. That's when our accounts with Carter Jeffries get funded. These accounts then flow into the bank accounts that have been set up for Dirty Lil' Angels. And then Natalie sees the money in those accounts, and it's when she knows she's been funded.

But when will our CFO approve the funds?

Only when he gets the green light from our bankers downtown that in the event of any catastrophic loss that doesn't include negligence that we have insurance and are hedged and covered for these investments.

See, it's our money, sure. But right now it's sitting in bank accounts that are insured by the Federal government. So if the bank ever goes bust, the Federal government pays for the deposits we have in there.

But once we move the money we need to make sure that the banks are willing to honor that insurance guarantee even if the entity name has been changed and the money sits in a Dirty Lil' Angels account instead of a Hard Times account. If we don't get the guarantee that the bank is willing to guarantee the deposit insurance of our funds, we're not moving shit.

So right now, all this comes down to a fucking waiting game.

Natalie has already signed all the relevant paperwork. She's dotted her i's and crossed her t's.

The banks are all taken care of too. Drake has been working on that, convincing them about the viability of this deal. This way, the less skittish the banks are about the underlying business, the more willing they are to keep extending their insurance to us. Which allows us to lend money while still keeping our credit lines intact to pay for things like payroll and rent.

Yeah, it's all one big fucking house of cards, isn't it?

That's why when one piece of it comes crumbing down, the whole thing starts to teeter.

But when one piece of it starts making money, the whole thing shoots into orbit.

This is going to be so fucking great too. We're gonna make so much fucking money. And then I'm gonna take that money, get hundreds of $100 bills and shower Natalie with it. She's going to be naked on the bed as I make money rain down on her.

Then I'm going to take her gorgeous body and lay her down on the bed.

I'm going to spread her legs and lift them up, exposing that beautiful waxed pussy to my hungry fucking gaze.

I'm going to enjoy that view, as Natalie's naked fucking tits are covered in dollar bills and her legs are spread open. I'm going to take my cock and glide it across her slit, teasing those puffy pussy lips till she's moaning for me to take her.

Don't forget Drake either.

I want him running his cock across her face on the other side of her. I want to lift her up as we both fuck her. Pass her around like an object. Just use her for our lust. Completely fucking dominate her and pound her pussy and ass so fucking hard that by the time we're done with her she's just a whimpering mass of flesh.

Her nerves should be so shot with pleasure that she's quivering.

I growl to myself thinking of what I'm going to do to her. What Drake is going to do to her. What the both of us are going to do to her.

Once the damn money comes through.

I look to guys sitting at the Treasury desk. I'm standing right next to them. The Vice President of the team looks at me and gulps. He knows we're behind schedule.

"We still haven't gotten the okay to go from--" he's about to finish but I cut him off.

"If the CFO of this Firm hasn't given the green light, I'm not telling you to do shit," I tell the Treasury guy. He sighs visibly. No doubt he thought I was going to tell him to break some sort of rules and transfer the money.

"Get me on the line with him now," I tell Treasury.

There's only one 'him'. My CFO, Carter Blake.

"What's the holdup?" I ask him the moment he comes on the line.

There's a silence on the other side. I'm about to lay into the fucker when he speaks.

"The banks aren't releasing the funds," he says simply. But I can tell there's frustration on the other side. He's not saying this easily. He must've been on the phone with them yelling and threatening them already. He knows that's what I'd expect him to fucking do.

"Where's the holdup?" I ask Carter.

"They won't say," he sighs. "But all they will tell me is that they no longer believe this deal is viable."

Wait.

Fuck.

Viability? Drake is supposed to be working on that. He's supposed to be assuring the banks that if anything, and I mean anything happens to Dirty Lil' Angels and Natalie, that Castleton Capital will swoop the fuck in and buy up the entire company to honor the debts.

Without Drake's assurances, no bank on Wall Street will invest in a sex toy company.

"Get Drake on the line," I say through gritted teeth. I don't like the way this smells.

"That's the thing, Boss," Carter says and sighs again. "I tried. Drake's office isn't taking any calls. And they won't comment when I ask them if they're willing to go on record to assure the viability of this investment. They've gone into hiding."

I grip the phone.

This deal is falling apart.

Without the assurances, the banks won't guarantee any loan. They won't guarantee our deposits.

Without those guarantees, my shareholders will never let me fucking invest in Natalie's company.

Without my investment, or Drake buying her out, Natalie's company won't fulfill it's order and will probably get fucking sued for taking partial payment in bad faith.

Most likely go out of fucking business.

Fuck.

I need to go see Drake Carlton.

I knew what we had was too good to be true.

If Drake did screw us, then I'm going to fucking kill him.