A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 132

After the board meeting ended.

Holmes returned to the CEO’s office and anxiously paced back and forth, biting her nails for a long time.

Knock, knock.

At the sound of knocking, her secretary entered—only to be met with a voice that sliced through the air.

"Where is Blackwell?"

The secretary froze for a moment.

Holmes’s voice had risen an entire octave. The deep, composed tone she had carefully maintained for its air of mystery was gone, replaced by a sharp, almost shrill intensity.

But the secretary quickly suppressed her surprise and met her boss’s piercing gaze.

"He’s expected to arrive in three hours."

"Do you not understand what ‘urgent’ means? I told you to bring him here immediately!"

"He has a court appointment today, so—"

Vincent Blackwell.

He was Theranos’ litigation attorney. And he was also a giant in the American legal field.

The lead strategist in Microsoft’s 2001 antitrust lawsuit. The man who took on California’s Proposition 8, opening a new chapter in LGBTQ rights.

She needed him.

Blackwell was a magician—he made the impossible possible. If anyone could pull Theranos out of this crisis, it was him. No, it had to be him.

"He said he would contact us before he departs, but—"

"Then call the in-house lawyer! Right now!"

Holmes barked the order and resumed pacing.

Finally, she stopped in front of her desk, her gaze sweeping over the stack of documents piled on top.

An interview request from Time magazine. An invitation to give a TED Talk. A letter announcing her selection for the Horatio Alger Award of the Year. A fellowship board invitation from Harvard Medical School.

She had only just begun to spread her wings.

And now, it was all crumbling in an instant?

That can’t happen.

"There’s still a chance."

Yes, the board had caught onto something—but all they had were a few scattered puzzle pieces. And there were ways to spin the whistleblower’s claims. That employee hadn’t handled all of Newton’s verification tests.

If Newton had a 1% error rate, she could argue that the whistleblower had only worked with that 1%. That would turn the employee into a traitor— someone who had recklessly generalized their limited experience to deal a fatal blow to the company.

Whether the board would believe her was uncertain, but there was still a path to regaining their trust.

All she had to do was fix the problem.

Solve Newton’s issues. Perfect the technology. That was the only way out.

Yes, the technology was fundamentally unfeasible, but Holmes truly believed she could overcome this challenge.

With enough funding, someone— someone—would find a solution.

A blueprint took shape in her mind.

Secure a massive influx of capital in record time. Finalize Newton’s development.

Then, expand Newton’s test operations from the current 40 Walgreens locations to all 8,000 stores nationwide.

The impact would be beyond imagination.

From there, everything would fall into place.

Once that dazzling success became reality, the board members who had walked out on her would come crawling back.

Yes, everything would return to its rightful place. As if none of this had ever happened.

And when that day came, today’s crisis would fade into nothing more than a minor mishap, lost in the recesses of memory…

Knock, knock.

The door opened, and a young man cautiously peeked inside.

The in-house attorney.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Holmes’s voice fell like frost.

"Sue the Wall Street Times reporter for defamation. Force them to issue a correction. And make them publish a massive public apology."

That article had started all of this.

The absurd comparison to ‘Hitler’ had provoked Kissinger—

which had set off the chain of events that led to everything unraveling.

"Even if they publish a correction now, I doubt the board will come back…"

"We’ll see about that."

Holmes knew people like Kissinger.

In the end, what mattered most to them was their reputation.

Right now, they were keeping their distance only because they feared their pristine images would be tainted.

But if she erased that article…

Her expression hardened with certainty.

But the in-house attorney’s face remained full of doubt.

"Still, suing the reporter isn’t possible. Theranos wasn’t directly named in the article— it only referred to an ‘anonymous startup.’ Legally, that doesn’t constitute defamation."

"But we still suffered damage!"

"I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do."

Even under Holmes’s piercing glare, the lawyer refused to back down.

Holmes bit her nails, anxiously pacing again.

Then—

Her wild eyes suddenly widened.

A spark of inspiration flickered.

Her face brightened.

"Then sue the witnesses! For breaching their NDAs! If they retract their statements, the entire article collapses. And the reporter will have to issue a correction!"

"Their statements don’t violate the NDA. General remarks about the company’s work environment don’t fall under its scope."

"Then sue them for defamation! Do I have to spell out everything for you?"

Holmes’s voice rose to a near scream.

This time, the attorney’s tone hardened.

"You cannot sue an anonymous source for making statements about an unnamed startup. If that were possible, every disgruntled employee who criticized their workplace on social media could be taken to court."

As he spoke, his eyes lingered on Holmes’s face.

Something about her was… off.

Outwardly, she seemed composed— but every argument she made, every demand she insisted on, was completely irrational.

And then—

Bzzzzzzzt!

Holmes’s phone vibrated.

Her eyes locked onto the name on the screen.

<Sable Point Group, Greg Curtis>

The Harkner family's private investment office.

The firm that had recently promised Theranos a $100 million investment.

As Holmes picked up the receiver with trembling hands, a voice as cold as ice came from the other end.

[I heard that the majority of the board members have resigned. Is this true?]

How did they find out so quickly?

[What was the reason for their resignation?]

"It was for personal reasons."

[A mass resignation for personal reasons… A difficult explanation to believe.]

A cynical laugh echoed through the receiver. Then, the cold voice delivered its final ultimatum.

[If the board is in such disarray, we will also suspend the execution of our main contract.]

Holmes’s fingers turned pale as she gripped her smartphone.

Without the final signature, neither shares nor money would move.

A contract suspension meant a total freeze of investment funds.

"Until when… will you put it on hold?"

[Until the board issue is resolved.]

That meant the $100 million investment would be indefinitely locked.

As soon as the call ended, darkness fell over Holmes’s face.

The confidence she had barely managed to muster melted away like snow, leaving only empty eyes.

In the end, even her ambitions were shackled by financial constraints.

To fundamentally solve the problem, she needed funding—

and now that funding was in jeopardy.

But this was only the beginning.

Bzzzzzzzt!

For the next two hours, Holmes’s phone rang nonstop.

Every caller was an investor, and the message was always the same.

[We are putting the main contract on hold.]

In just a single day, a staggering $2.9 billion had been frozen.

The money needed to fix Newton’s errors, the money that could have wiped away all these problems—

Gone.

Just as her vision darkened—

Bzzzzzzzt!

Another call.

Holmes’s face twisted as she saw the name on the screen.

<RP Solutions, Ha Si-heon>

The mere sight of the name sent a wave of anger surging through her.

She felt the urge to ignore it— but he was still an investor, and she couldn’t afford to turn her back on him.

At the same time, a strange curiosity crept in.

Why is he calling at this moment?

[I heard the board has resigned.]

His voice on the other end was composed, as if he were discussing someone else’s misfortune.

[It’s quite unfortunate. Frankly, part of the reason we invested was the board’s reputation…]

"They’ll come back."

[If you’re that confident, does that mean you’re open to repurchasing company shares?]

He was essentially asking if Theranos would buy back RP Solutions' shares— a request that was practically a refund demand.

Many investors had declared a fund freeze, but Ha Si-heon was the first shameless enough to ask for his money back outright.

"…Share repurchases require board approval, per company regulations."

[Is that really a problem?]

"……"

[Ah, but there is no board, so that won’t be possible, will it?]

This was pure provocation.

[Then, when will the board be restored?]

Click.

Holmes, unable to contain her disgust, hung up the phone.

But Ha Si-heon’s voice lingered in her mind, gnawing at her thoughts.

"Then, when will the board be restored?"

His voice had carried a trace of amusement.

Come to think of it…

She had been so fixated on the resignations that she had overlooked the real starting point of all this.

"This was all… all his doing."

Her voice started as a whisper but gradually escalated.

"Kissinger was fine— until he had dinner with that bastard. That’s when everything changed. He must have violated his NDA and spilled something during that meeting. No—he must have trashed me completely. Kissinger came into today’s meeting already prepared to take me down!"

"Director Kissinger was set off by the Wall Street Times article…"

The in-house attorney cautiously pointed out.

But Holmes wasn’t listening.

"Exactly! That article!"

She suddenly screamed.

Her face flushed red, veins bulging from her forehead.

"That journalist—Ha Si-heon orchestrated it! He met with the reporter separately, didn’t he?" The more she spoke, the more convinced she became.

Her eyes gleamed with madness, and her words sped up.

"And on top of that, he’s friendly with some of our employees. He must have fed them information, which got turned into an article. Then, over dinner, he poisoned Kissinger’s mind against me! Because of him, $2.9 billion— $2.9 billion has vanished! If this isn’t grounds for a lawsuit, what is?!"

A flicker of unease crossed the attorney’s face.

Holmes’s pupils wavered, losing focus.

Her hands swept across the desk, knocking over everything in her path.

Her rationality had long since disappeared.

And yet, she was still the CEO of this company.

"Sue Ha Si-heon. Shut him up. Right. Now."

***

I wonder if I provoked her enough?

After hanging up with Holmes, I leaned back in my chair, lost in thought.

I had already heard from old man Kissinger about the board’s resignation. Naturally, Attorney Raymond would have heard by now too.

Even at this moment, Raymond was probably glued to his phone,

spreading the bombshell news to his clients.

Most of the investors had been recruited through him, so the resignation scandal had spread like wildfire.

Once they heard the news, they would freeze their investments.

Meaning, my money would not end up in Holmes’s pockets.

But… a new issue had arisen.

Because Kissinger had told me this—

[You should step back now. I’ll handle the cleanup from here.]

His voice had carried a clear intent— he wanted to keep this scandal as quiet as possible.

Which made sense.

Letting this blow up would only bring embarrassment.

But.

That’s not what I want.

I didn’t get involved in Theranos to quietly fix the company.

From the start, my goal had been fame.

I wanted this scandal to explode, to dominate every headline, to eventually become a Hollywood blockbuster.

For that, I needed a courtroom drama.

But if I pulled the trigger on a lawsuit myself, I’d be outright defying Kissinger’s warning. I’d be labeled an ungrateful “disobedient grandson.”

So instead, I gave Holmes a little nudge.

Holmes wouldn’t just sit still.

Shutting people up was second nature to her.

And sure enough, after just a day or two— things played out exactly as I predicted.

"Mr. Ha Si-heon?"

A stranger barged into my office.

His casual attire clashed awkwardly with the refined atmosphere of Goldman.

"You've been served."

He handed me a thick envelope.

I didn’t need to open it.

It was a subpoena.

Meaning—Holmes had officially sued me.

With this, she had once again managed to make a reckless, self-destructive move.

"Glad she reacted so quickly."

If she had taken any longer, I might have had to file a lawsuit myself.

Luckily, the provocation had worked.

Still—

I kept my excitement in check, putting on a somber expression.

The other associates had already gathered, watching curiously.

"What’s going on? Are you being sued?"

"It’s been quiet for a while, but now this?"

"Wait—what could you have possibly done?"

I glanced at the subpoena before folding it with a sigh.

Then, I turned to a nearby associate and asked,

"Have you ever been sued for defamation?"

Eyes widened.

"No way…"

"Are you telling me… the White Shark sued you?"

It didn’t matter what I actually said.

Rumors had a way of spreading on their own.

And in just a few hours—

The whole of Wall Street was buzzing.