Page 16 of Black Velvet

"You're so young," I blurt out. "Much younger than most of my clients... our clients I mean."

I bite my lip. Speaking about other clients is not permitted. I should be more careful.

"I mean, it's unusual to see such a young man enjoying such..."

"Wealth?" he finishes my sentence, saving me from saying any more stupid things.

I nod, throwing him a grateful smile.

"No reason to be so shy," he says assuredly. "I have nothing to hide—"

"Oh, that's not what I meant," I hurry to say. "I wasn't implying anything!"

He laughs, and it's the first time I see him laughing like that. A hearty full-body laugh, coming from deep in his chest.

"You're adorable," he says, and I pout, playing along.

"But to answer your question," he adds. "There's no big secret behind it, really. In short, you could say I was just incredibly lucky in many ways."

"And the long story?"

He clears his throat and lifts the whiskey to his lips, giving me enough time to doubt my nosy probing again. But before I have a chance to retract my question, he sets the glass down and takes a deep breath, preparing to tell his story.

"The long story is that I was lucky enough to be born to well-off parents," he begins. "I was their only son and grew up pretty spoiled. Nannies, private schools, and—most importantly—a pretty generous trust fund."

I nod along, not sure what to make of the disappointment that's spreading through my core as he speaks. He's an heir. For some reason, that's the least exciting answer one could hope for. Just someone who was born to the right people. There's little glamour in that, little to admire.

And he seems to read all these thoughts as if they’re written on my face.

"Not what you had hoped to hear," he says.

It's a statement and not a question, but I still shake my head in response.

"I wasn't hoping for anything," I admit. "I was just curious."

"Either way, that's not the end of my story."

A surprised expression blossoms on my face.

"My parents did well, but they weren't super rich," he adds. "Not like I am now. It's not their money that provides for my current lifestyle, it's what I made of it."

He pauses to clear his throat before continuing, and I’m surprised to find that I'm literally on the edge of my seat, eager to hear more.

"Around the time I turned eighteen and gained access to my trust fund, Bitcoin became a thing," he resumes, and then pauses before he asks me, "I assume you know what that is?"

I nod. "I have heard of it."

"I don't think anyone completely understands how it works," he says. "But some understand enough to play around with it, as risky as it is. Well, that's exactly what I did. I took most of the money from my trust fund and invested it in Bitcoin. Nothing happened for the longest time. The money was just gone, no longer in my hands."

A dark smile forms from the corners of his mouth and travels across his face, and then he lowers his gaze.

"I mostly did it to piss off my parents, to be honest," he adds. "They were furious, and thought I'd thrown away all of my money. I loved it. I fuckinglovedseeing them like that."

He considers me then, with that eerie smirk still on his face. He's smiling, but there's hurt written across his face, its shadows the evidence of painful memories.

"My motivation may have been wrong, cruel even," he says. "But the payoff was huge. Even I didn't expect for things to blow up the way they did. Crypto coins became a thing, and Bitcoin just grew and grew. I was supposed to focus on the college classes my parents had paid for me to take, but almost all of my attention went into that market, studying it, observing it, trying to understand it as well as possible—and transferring my investments accordingly. You see, these things are mostly about psychology. Next to external impacts on the market, you have to be able to anticipate people's behavior. You need to know when to buy, when to sell, when to cash out."

I nod along as he speaks. "Sounds just like the stock market."

---