With Tessa's score at 53 points, he knew cashing in now could triple his rewards. Still, Parker wasn't in a rush. Apart from the Bad Boy Charm perk he'd already claimed, everything else could wait.
But he didn't know what I would change into after cashing in his 3X.
For now, he'd put the rewards—and the system itself—on hold. Tomorrow was another day, and Parker wasn't one to push every button just because he could.
Strategy came first, and he was playing the long game.
Parker's mind was laser-focused. The penthouse was silent except for the faint hum of his laptop. His chair creaked as he leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen. Strategy wasn't just important—it was everything. Tonight, he wasn't just running numbers; he was running the game.
The plan? Multiply. Stack it high. Make it rain. By the end of this night, "millionaire" wouldn't just be a title—it'd be a lifestyle.
He'd been scrolling through company performances for hours, watching the charts dance with green and red. Most stocks were doing well, but he wasn't about to dump his cash into equities.
Election season was still shaking the market like a snow globe, and even the big boys—Bitcoin and Ethereum—weren't immune to the chaos. Every tweet, every newsflash, every random headline could flip the market like a coin.
Stocks and crypto? Too messy for Parker's taste.
The forex market, though? That was safe. Reliable. Predictable in its own chaos. That's where the money was tonight.
Parker cracked his knuckles, the glow of the screen reflecting off his face as he calculated his next move. Every dollar he spent brought in 10 times more through the system, and if the market swung his way, he'd double his own profits which the system already gave him a rebate for.
That wasn't just a win—it was a 12x multiplier, since the system would give him 10x and then his trade Risk-Reward whill be 1:2 ratio. That's 12x to sum it up.
His mind raced, weighing options, analyzing patterns, running the numbers.
Finally, he zeroed in on gold.
The XAUUSD pair had been screaming sell for days. The U.S. dollar was flexing hard, boosted by the end of multiple international conflicts and the election of the most loved president.
Parker didn't need to overthink it. Gold was weak; the dollar was strong. It was the perfect storm.
A few clicks later, he had a broker account up and running. His funds were loaded. His trade was placed. He went all in.
"Let's go make some damn money," he muttered under his breath. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he risked $8,379,000 in a single trade. Ballsy? Maybe. But with his high-tier trading skills, it wasn't a gamble—it was a calculated trade.
This wasn't gambling, trading wasn't gambling!
He even tossed the $1,000 sitting in his crypto wallet into his brokerage account for good measure.
"Money shouldn't sit idly!"
A second later, the system dinged.
[Spent $8,379,000. Earned $83,790,000!]
Parker blinked at the screen, then broke into a slow, disbelieving laugh. "No way. No f***ing way!" The laugh turned into a full-blown shout. Although he knew it was going to happen, seeing it happen was a different case all together!
"I'M A GODDAMN MILLIONAIRE! LET'S GO!"
He leaned back, heart pounding, a smug grin on his face. The $83,790,000 sitting in his account felt surreal.
Just yesterday, he'd been thinking how cool it would be to be millionaire but even as he got $8M Parker refused to call himself a millionaire, not until he cross the $20M mark, and now?
He'd smashed it. Crushed it. Obliterated it.
Even better, the gold trade he had risked more than $8M was already deep in profit! If you add it to his $83M how much would that be.
Sure, it was just floating equity for now—it could technically hit zero since he had risked it all—but Parker wasn't worried. Not with his skills. This wasn't luck; it was precision.
He stretched his arms over his head, finally shutting the laptop. His eyes were heavy, and he couldn't remember the last time he blinked. It was time to crash. Tomorrow?
Tomorrow, he'd figure out how to flip this win into something bigger. For now, the millionaire needed some damn sleep.
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Helena had already made the call to Parker's school, informing them of his "absence for a prestigious self-improvement program." The news had also reached Ms. Scarlett Draven, who had raised a skeptical brow but said nothing.
Julian snorted as he sprawled across the couch. "I still can't believe it. Parker Black—self-improvement. What's next? Annabelle winning 'Best Behaved' in school?"
Annabelle threw a pillow at his face. "Shut up, Julian!"
But even as they mocked him, an uneasy silence settled over the Blackwoods. None of them could shake the feeling that something had changed about Parker.
"Speaking of... How was your day with the Bella Harper, Julian?" Annabelle teased.
As Parker sleeps soundly, buried in luxurious bedding and the glow of his recent success, life decides it's time to shake things up. The peace of his penthouse night is disrupted by a loud, repetitive thunk-thunk-thunk. It sounds like it's coming from his balcony.
At first, Parker stirs but doesn't wake up. The sound grews louder, more insistent. Finally, with a groggy groan, he sits up and squints at the balcony door. "What the hell…" he mutters, rubbing his eyes.
Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffles to the glass door. He peers out into the night, and there, standing in the glow of the city lights, is… a pigeon. But not just any pigeon. This one's got a tiny rolled-up note tied to its leg and looks like it's ready for business.
The bird stares back at Parker with an unnerving intensity.
"Is this real life?" Parker asks no one in particular, scratching his head. He slides the door open, and the pigeon struts inside like it owns the place. It flaps onto his table and extends its leg, clearly expecting him to take the note.
Parker, still half-asleep and very confused, unties the note and unrolls it. The handwriting is shaky, almost childlike, but the message is clear:
{We know about the system. You're not the only one. Watch your back!}