Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Sunday: Revelation Chap: $

"The kind of something that means you never have to worry about money again," I said, pulling out my phone like it held the answer to every sleepless night, every overdue bill, every time Mom had smiled through exhaustion.

The kitchen fell into absolute silence.

Even the hum of the refrigerator seemed to hold its breath.

Sarah and Emma materialized near us like summoned spirits, their faces shifting from curiosity to wariness. That sixth sense siblings have—the one that tells them when the ground’s about to crack under the family—had clearly kicked in.

I turned the screen toward Mom.

MetaTrader. Live account. Seven hundred twenty-nine thousand dollars and some change.

Her coffee mug didn’t fall—it hovered. For half a second, gravity itself hesitated. Then the ceramic shattered on the tiles like a tiny thunderclap, brown liquid spraying across the floor. No one even looked at it.

Mom stared at the screen. Not blinking. Not breathing. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Finally: "Uh... Peter... this is... this can’t be real. This is Monopoly money. This is fake internet bullshit. This is—"

"Real," I said softly, like I was confessing to magic.

Very, very real.

Sarah snatched the phone from my hand before I could even react. I watched her face contort like she was cycling through the entire human emotional spectrum in seconds—confusion, awe, terror, glee. Then:

"Holy fucking shit."

Her eyes widened. "Sorry, Mom—but HOLY FUCKING SHIT."

Emma leaned over Sarah’s shoulder, got one look at the number, and crumpled like her strings had been cut. She just dropped onto the floor, hard. No drama. Just pure shock.

"Are you kidding me? Are you actually, literally fucking kidding me?" Her voice cracked like a teenage boy’s, half-laughing, half-crying.

Mom was still frozen, but muscle memory kicked in. "Language," she murmured—automatic, disconnected, like some ghost of parenting routine had possessed her. Her hands trembled like they couldn’t decide whether to hug me or slap the truth out of me.

Sarah was already scrolling through the trading history, fingers darting with the precision of someone reading sacred scripture.

"Mom, these are trades. Deposits. Live charts. Real orders. He’s not lying. He’s not pretending. This is real money. Withdrawable. Spendable. Usable. You’re looking at proof-of-life here. It increased more from what we saw yesterday." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

I watched them all with a strange sense of stillness, as if I were standing outside my body. A silent observer in my own life. The surreal had become tangible, and now everyone else was being pulled into the gravity well of what I’d done.

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer." Camus said that. He probably wasn’t talking about making it in crypto while everyone failed, but damn if it didn’t fit.

Mom finally took the phone back, her nurse instincts flaring to life. She inspected the numbers with the eyes of someone trained to catch life-or-death details. Her gaze moved from equity to transaction history to account verification, like she was reviewing a patient’s vitals.

It wasn’t just disbelief anymore. It was recognition.

Yesterday she’d brushed me off since $55000 wasn’t that much. Today, she saw it. Every late night, every crash at the desk, every missed breakfast—this was the result.

Her breath hitched. And for the first time in years, I saw something flicker in her expression that had nothing to do with exhaustion or responsibility.

Hope.

Raw. Undeniable. Bright.

"You made four hundred thousand dollars," Emma whispered from where she sat on the floor, as if repeating it might force the universe to confirm it. "In less than two days. Our broke-ass brother made four hundred thousand dollars while we were out here stressing about whether we could afford the good cereal."

This—this is what money buys. Not happiness. We already had fragments of that, stitched together with jokes and late-night chats and stubborn love. No, what money buys is the absence of pressure. The kind of freedom that lets happiness stretch its arms and exhale.

"You’re getting a new car, mom. Today." I said, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around Mom like I was plugging a hole in the universe. "Sarah’s getting her dance equipment. Emma’s getting...whatever the hell Emma wants. And from this day forward, we will never stress about money again."

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