Golden Eye Tycoon: Rise of the Billionaire Trader-Chapter 49: The Withdrawal

The city was quieter when Jake got home.

Not silent—Aurelia City never truly reached that point—but the late-night traffic had thinned enough that the hum outside his apartment felt distant instead of constant. Lights still glowed in nearby buildings, though fewer windows were lit now, and the streets below looked calmer in the way cities do when most of their inhabitants finally surrender to sleep.

Jake parked in the underground garage and rode the elevator up to his floor. The ride was short, but his thoughts stayed fixed on the same number.

Fifty million.

The proposal Marcus had presented earlier kept replaying in his head, not because the concept was complicated but because it was simple in a way that made it powerful. Four partners pooling resources into a private investment company had advantages Jake understood immediately. With two hundred million in combined capital, opportunities would open that individual investors rarely even saw.

Large projects. Early access. Equity positions that didn’t exist on public markets.

Influence.

Marcus had used that word deliberately. Jake unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside.

The place was dark except for the soft glow of the city lights spilling through the living room window. Aliya had already gone home earlier that evening after finishing her last lecture of the week, leaving behind the usual evidence of her visit: an empty snack wrapper on the coffee table and a blanket half-folded on the couch.

Jake dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter and loosened the collar of his shirt. He walked toward his desk. The monitors blinked to life when he tapped the keyboard. His trading platform loaded automatically. Gold charts filled the screen.

Jake ignored them for the moment and opened his account dashboard instead.

Trading Account Balance:

37,482,000 VM

Below it sat the recent trading history from the past few days.

The numbers looked ordinary to him now, even though they would have sounded absurd to the version of him from six months earlier.

Jake leaned back in his chair and stared at the total.

Fifty million.

He could reach it easily.

His bank account already held over twenty million. Combined with the trading account, he had more than enough to meet the contribution Marcus had suggested.

But the capital inside the trading account needed to move first. Jake reached for the mouse and opened the withdrawal page.

He had moved money before. Several times over the past three months. The process had always been simple: request the transfer, confirm the bank details, wait for the funds to appear the following day.

Tonight should have been no different. He typed the amount carefully.

37,000,000 VM 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

The system automatically displayed the bank destination. He reviewed it. Everything looked correct.

Jake clicked on Submit Withdrawal. For a second nothing happened. Then a message appeared.

*Transaction Failed.*

Jake frowned slightly. That was unusual. He checked the amount again. Everything was correct. He clicked the withdrawal button a second time. The system processed for several seconds before displaying another message.

*Withdrawal temporarily unavailable. Please contact customer support.*

Jake leaned back slowly. His expression remained calm, but a faint crease appeared between his brows.

That had never happened before. He refreshed the page. The balance still showed correctly.

37,482,000 VM

Jake tried a smaller withdrawal.

10,000,000 VM

Submit. The same message appeared.

*Withdrawal temporarily unavailable. Please contact customer support.*

Jake exhaled slowly through his nose. This could be routine.

Some brokers imposed temporary restrictions when withdrawals exceeded certain thresholds. Compliance checks. Liquidity issues. Internal processing delays.

None of those explanations worried him immediately. Still, something about the message irritated him. He reached for his phone and opened the broker’s support page.

The chat system responded automatically.

*How may we assist you today?*

Jake typed quickly.

*I’m attempting to withdraw funds from my trading account and receiving an error message.*

The response came a minute later.

*Please provide your account ID.*

Jake sent it. Another pause. Then the support agent replied.

*Thank you for your patience. Your account is currently under review.*

Jake stared at the screen. Under review. That phrase could mean several things.

"What kind of review?" he typed.

The typing indicator appeared briefly.

*Compliance review.*

Jake leaned back again. That wasn’t unusual either. Large accounts sometimes triggered automated reviews, especially when trading activity grew rapidly.

Still. He typed again.

*How long will this review take?*

The response came after a longer delay.

*Our compliance team will contact you if additional information is required.*

Jake waited.

Nothing else followed. He closed the chat window. For a moment he simply sat there staring at the screen.

The apartment was quiet around him. Outside, a car passed along the street below, its headlights sliding briefly across the walls before fading again.

Jake looked back at the balance. Thirty-seven million. Untouchable for now.

He didn’t panic. Panicking rarely solved financial problems. Instead he opened the trading history tab. If the broker was conducting a compliance review, he wanted his own records organized first.

Jake began taking screenshots of account summaries, transaction history, deposits and withdrawals. Every trade executed during the past three months.

The process took nearly twenty minutes. He saved the files carefully and uploaded copies to cloud storage before storing another set on an external drive in his desk drawer.

Documentation mattered. Especially when money reached this level. When he finished, Jake leaned back in his chair again.

The clock on his monitor read 1:12 a.m.

He closed the trading platform. The funds weren’t going anywhere tonight. Compliance reviews sometimes took a day or two. He would check again in the morning.

Jake stood and stretched slightly.

As he walked toward the bedroom, the earlier conversation at the club drifted back into his mind.

Marcus leaning forward at the table.

*Two hundred and fifty million.*

Jake allowed himself a small smile.

"Looks like you’ll have to wait a little," he murmured to the empty apartment.

---

Morning arrived with bright sunlight and the faint smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen.

Jake woke later than usual.

The previous night’s delay hadn’t bothered him enough to lose sleep, but it had lingered somewhere in the back of his mind. As soon as he opened his eyes, the first thing he thought about was the withdrawal.

He showered quickly, dressed, and walked into the living room. The apartment looked exactly as it had the night before. Except now the daylight made everything feel more ordinary.

Jake sat down at his desk and powered on the monitors. The trading platform loaded again. Gold charts filled the screen. His eyes moved automatically toward the account balance.

For a moment his brain didn’t process what he was seeing. Then the number registered and Jake froze.

The balance read: 0.00 VM

He blinked once, refreshed the page but the number didn’t change.

Jake leaned closer to the screen. Still zero.

The transaction history tab showed nothing unusual. No withdrawals. No transfers. No trades. Just... nothing.

Thirty-seven million had vanished. The apartment felt suddenly very quiet.

Jake’s heartbeat slowed instead of accelerating. Panic would only cloud the situation. He opened the account activity tab again.

Nothing. No record of the funds leaving. No explanation. No notification.

Jake sat back slowly in his chair. Then he reached for his phone and opened the cloud folder where he had saved the screenshots the night before.

The files appeared instantly. Clear, complete and undeniable. Every trade, every transaction and every deposit. Jake stared at them for several seconds. Then he exhaled quietly.

"Alright," he said to himself. If the broker thought they could make thirty-seven million disappear quietly...

They had made a very serious mistake.

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