A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 83

Standing in front of the Theranos headquarters, I unconsciously tilted my head back to take in the building.

A modern, sleek exterior.

I couldn’t help but let out a bitter smile.

‘They sure are clever about things like this.’

This building had been used by Facebooks just three years ago.

Of course, Holmes had been fully aware of that when she moved Theranos’s base here.

It was a calculated move, meant to evoke the association that "Theranos is the next Facebooks."

‘You’d think no one would fall for something so obvious… but these kinds of tactics work surprisingly well on investors blinded by promises of quick returns.’

It was these sorts of details that turned this case into one of the most infamous frauds in history.

Thinking about it, I stepped inside the building.

As I entered the lobby, I was greeted by a grand space, with a large screen emblazoned with the Theranos logo catching my eye.

A glance at my watch showed it was 8 a.m.

Despite the early hour, employees were already streaming in for work.

Beep! Beep!

Employees swiped their access cards to enter, but as a visitor, I had no choice but to stop.

Looking around, I caught the attention of a security guard who approached me.

“What brings you here?”

“I’m here for the investor presentation.”

“That starts at 10 a.m.,” the guard replied curtly.

His tone was far from welcoming.

I smiled awkwardly and asked, “I arrived early because of my flight schedule. Is there somewhere I can wait and get some work done before the meeting starts?”

I tapped lightly on my laptop bag as I spoke, but the guard shook his head firmly.

“No entry into the building is allowed before 10 a.m.”

“I’m not asking for a private room, just permission to wait in the lobby.”

“This is private property. Unauthorized entry by outsiders is prohibited.”

The guard’s response was overly cold.

It wasn’t like I was some door-to-door salesman.

Frowning slightly, I raised my voice in protest.

“I’m not just some outsider. I’m here as a participant in the investor presentation. Isn’t the lobby meant to accommodate visitors like me?”

“Participants are allowed entry starting at 10 a.m.”

“That’s why I’m saying I’ll wait in the lobby until then.”

As my back-and-forth with the guard continued, a passerby who had been watching the exchange stepped in.

“You’re wasting your time arguing. There’s a café nearby called ‘Café Karma’. You might be better off waiting there.”

“Oh, thank you.”

I expressed my gratitude and casually asked, “Is the coffee there any good? I can be pretty picky…”

The passerby gave a confident smile and replied, “It’s the best in the area. I guarantee it.”

Thanking the stranger again, I headed to the café they’d mentioned.

When I arrived and tasted the coffee, I had to admit—it was excellent.

The bright and crisp acidity unique to high-quality Arabica beans gently enveloped my palate.

The freshness of the flavor indicated the beans had been freshly roasted.

As I savored the aroma, I began to observe the others in the café, particularly paying attention to the employee badges hanging around their necks.

More than half of them bore the same badges I’d seen on the people in the Theranos lobby earlier.

As expected, this café seemed to be a popular hangout spot for Theranos employees.

If I lingered here for a while, I might overhear some interesting tidbits.

However, now wasn’t the time.

It was still the start of the workday, and everyone seemed to be glancing at their watches, hurrying along.

There wasn’t any time for idle chatter.

‘I’ll have to come back later this afternoon.’

With that thought in mind, I settled into a quiet corner and began organizing my plans for the day.

I had three main objectives.

First, identify the weaknesses in Theranos.

By subtly poking holes in their lies, I could gauge how Holmes would respond.

Second, make a strong impression on the investors.

I was here to scout the investors gathered at this presentation.

The goal was to make them invest in *my* fund instead of Theranos.

Even though the launch of my fund was still a few months away, it wouldn’t hurt to leave a memorable impression now.

Third, build connections with Theranos employees.

In truth, this last task was the most important.

Why?

Think back to what ultimately brought down Theranos in my previous life.

Was it a government investigation? Investors waking up?

No.

It was testimony from a whistleblower.

This was the key to the entire case.

Even if I failed in the other two objectives, I absolutely couldn’t afford to fail at this one.

As I mulled over my next steps, my phone buzzed.

It was Prescott.

[Where are you?]

***

“It’s been a while.”

I greeted Prescott in front of the Theranos building.

He glanced around cautiously before speaking in a low voice.

“Today, let’s keep things quiet… and not too aggressive.”

His words carried a clear warning.

He was reminding me that I was here representing his Heritage Group, so I needed to be careful with what I said or did.

“Understood?”

I responded with a vague smile.

Sorry, but I couldn’t comply with that request.

I was planning to make quite an impression today.

“Are you here for the investor presentation? Please, follow me,” said a staff member.

We followed the guide into the building.

The Theranos office had an open and modern design, but the atmosphere felt oddly rigid.

Employees seemed completely absorbed in their work, as if under some sort of spell, not even sparing a glance at the unfamiliar visitors passing by.

It was clearly a deliberate act of avoidance.

When we arrived at the conference room, a few people had already taken their seats.

“Well, Prescott! What brings you here again?”

A man greeted Prescott with a booming voice.

While they exchanged pleasantries, I quietly slipped away and chose a suitable seat to sit down.

A moment later, the door opened, and someone walked in.

A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair neatly tied back, dressed in a black turtleneck and sleek black pants.

It was Elizabeth Holmes.

‘Surprisingly impressive.’

Seeing Holmes in person was more striking than I had expected.

In my previous life, I’d mostly seen photos of Holmes, and every time, her blatant imitation of Jobs’ turtleneck look had always struck me as somewhat ridiculous.

But seeing her in person now, I didn’t feel the same way.

There was a distinct charisma about her, the kind unique to business leaders who don’t tolerate even a single second of wasted time.

Holmes confidently stepped up to the stage and stood before the microphone.

“Welcome to Theranos, everyone,” she announced.

As her voice echoed through the room, the hushed conversations instantly ceased.

All eyes turned to her at once.

It was because of her voice.

In contrast to her somewhat youthful appearance, her voice was deep and resonant.

A rich, low tone, almost reminiscent of a man’s voice, captivated the audience’s attention.

However, unlike the others, who were almost entranced by Holmes, I struggled to suppress my laughter.

That voice of hers? It was fake.

‘She’s really trying hard.’

Holmes’s natural voice was indeed low, but it wasn’t as unnaturally deep as it was now.

This was all part of an act, designed to create an air of mystique around her.

“This is our product,” Holmes said, using her fingers like tweezers to lift something up.

A tiny container, no larger than a fingernail.

“This is the Nanotainer. With just a single drop of blood in this small container, we can diagnose hundreds of diseases.”

She then went on to share a personal story about her uncle, who had recently passed away from cancer.

“It was then that I made a vow: to ensure no one would ever have to endure the pain of suddenly losing a loved one.”

Her presentation skills were remarkable.

Even though I knew all of this was a complete lie, I found myself listening intently, completely drawn in.

Her deep, resonant voice was genuinely engaging.

The more I listened, the more it felt like I was falling under some kind of strange hypnosis.

After beginning with an emotional story and presenting her vision, Holmes transitioned into listing Theranos’s business achievements.

“Safeways has already established Theranos Health Centers in over 900 locations.”

That part was true.

The catch was that the centers weren’t operational because Holmes hadn’t provided the necessary equipment.

“We’ve also signed a contract with the U.S. Department of Defense. This demonstrates how reliable our technology is, even in urgent battlefield conditions.”

That was a lie.

While discussions had taken place, Theranos failed to provide proof of its technology’s effectiveness, and the deal was rejected.

“Beyond diagnosing existing illnesses, our technology can even prevent diseases. Using biomarkers, we can measure prostate cancer antibodies in advance…”

Prevent diseases? Please. They couldn’t even handle diagnostics.

“Newton can conduct over 240 tests faster, cheaper, and without any pain compared to existing diagnostic devices. We’re currently in the process of securing FDA approval and receiving highly positive feedback…”

This was outright fabrication.

Honestly, I was baffled.

She wasn’t even bothering to sugarcoat her lies or twist words cleverly. She was just blatantly spewing falsehoods without any shame.

It was as though she’d thrown all sense of decency out the window.

“We’re not just revolutionizing technology but also transforming people’s lives…”

Her confident explanation came to an abrupt halt.

Her gaze landed directly on me.

Actually, not just her—every pair of eyes in the room turned toward me.

Of course, they did.

I had just raised my hand high into the air.

Holmes silently stared at me.

Her eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, a sign that my interruption during her big moment had seriously irritated her.

“There will be a separate time for questions,” a man’s voice suddenly interjected.

I turned to see who had spoken and found myself being glared at by a bulldog-like man of Indian descent.

“Please do not interrupt the presentation right now.”

I recognized him immediately.

Rahul Sharma.

The vice president of Theranos, one of the main accomplices in this elaborate fraud, and someone who would eventually stand trial alongside Holmes.

As Sharma glared at me fiercely, someone suddenly grabbed my arm.

‘Didn’t I tell you not to draw attention to yourself?’

Prescott hissed in frustration, clearly annoyed by my behavior.

“I’m sorry. It was a mistake,” I said, apologizing sheepishly as I lowered my hand.

Holmes resumed her presentation with a neutral expression, never glancing in my direction again.

However, standing behind her, Sharma continued to watch me with sharp, piercing eyes.

There was blatant hostility and suspicion in his gaze.

It was as though he were bracing himself, convinced I might pull something at any moment.

But I didn’t take any further action.

Now wasn’t the time.

For the time being, I planned to quietly follow along with the program they had laid out.

“Well then, we’ll now begin the tour. Please follow me,” Holmes said.

Everyone stood up, and I blended in with the crowd, following silently.

It was the start of my real exploration.