Wall Street is an eight-block-long street located in the Financial District of Lower Manhattan, in New York City. It stretches from Broadway to the west to South Street and the East River to the east, and is recognized worldwide as "the financial heart of the United States."
In this area stands the historic New York Stock Exchange, and it also continues to be home to major financial institutions such as Nasdaq, the American Stock Exchange, and the New York Mercantile Exchange.
When Jack arrived at the headquarters of Carter Capital's offices, it was already seven in the evening. In August, the sky is already half-dark at that hour. Streetlights were beginning to turn on, and the entire Wall Street area was brightly illuminated.
Naturally, the main stock exchanges in the area had closed long ago. Most of the companies in the surrounding skyscrapers had also finished their workday.
But not all of them. Financial firms often needed to operate twenty-four hours a day.
There was always staff on duty.
For example, at Carter Capital, some members of the team were still working at that hour.
At night, Wall Street was also filled with tourists. Compared to the daytime bustle, the nighttime atmosphere was no less lively.
However, Jack had not come to admire the night view.
He had come to work.
Under the protection of his bodyguards, he discreetly entered the Woolworth Building. After the security guard verified his identity at the entrance, Jack quickly took the express elevator up to the thirty-third floor.
Upon stepping out, he walked down a corridor and reached a reception area where a clearly visible sign read: Carter Capital.
Since it was after business hours, there was no receptionist in the lobby.
However, two security guards remained on duty. When they saw Jack appear, they immediately straightened up and greeted him respectfully:
—Good evening, boss.
Jack nodded slightly.
Of the four bodyguards accompanying him, two stayed behind while the other two followed him into the company's offices.
The Woolworth Building is now considered an old skyscraper.
Built in 1913 and financed by Frank W. Woolworth, the Woolworth Building is a fifty-seven-story skyscraper with a Gothic façade that held the title of the tallest building in the world for thirteen years. Although it has since been overshadowed by landmarks such as the Empire State Building, it retains enormous historical and cultural value.
Today, the building no longer belongs to the Woolworth family. Its ownership is divided as follows: 12% belongs to Merrill Lynch, 28% to Goldman Sachs, 30% to Wells Fargo, and nearly 10% to small shareholders, while 20% belongs to Jack, who acquired his stake for three hundred million dollars. This is why Carter Capital has its offices there. The total value of the building is estimated at around one and a half billion dollars.
Carter Capital occupies the thirty-third floor, being the only company installed on that entire level.
During the day, when all staff are present, the space can accommodate around one hundred and twenty employees working simultaneously.
But now it was night, and most of them had already left. Even so, just as there were security guards at the building's entrance, there were also people working inside the company.
After entering the offices, Jack, familiar with the layout, quickly headed toward the company's so-called safe house.
A safe house is a special room used by many financial firms. Operators who enter it must surrender all communication devices and undergo a full body search. Once inside, they are not allowed to leave until their work is completed.
During the time they remain there, specialized staff handle meals, cleaning, and other basic services on a daily basis.
Their job is to follow precise instructions and operate or monitor specific investment targets within a set time frame. This time, he had eight operators who had been locked inside for a full week. They had gone in even before Jack traveled to Texas.
Outside the safe house, four security guards stood watch. Except for those with explicit authorization, no one—neither those inside nor those outside—could freely enter or leave.
When Jack arrived, a blond man in his early thirties was sleeping soundly, face down on a lounge sofa. Without stopping, Jack walked straight over, lifted his foot, and kicked the couch over, sending the man crashing to the floor.
—FXXK! WHAT THE HELL?! —a torrent of curses exploded as the man sprang up, twisting in pain.
When he realized that the person who had hit him was Jack, calmly smiling, the man cut off the insults and complained:
—FXXK! What the hell is wrong with you? I was dreaming about a beautiful blonde on a beach, right when things were getting interesting, and you woke me up!
Jack replied calmly:
—Drop it, David. I don't have time for your fantasies. Wash your face and bring me up to speed.
After the brief interlude, David Mellon, CEO of Carter Capital, stood beside Jack, brimming with energy.
—How did it go in Texas? What did your parents say?
—It went well. It helped get things moving. And it was good to get some fresh air, but now there's a lot to do and very little time.
—So, is it time already? Otherwise, it's not easy to get you to come to the office.
—Yes, it was time already —Jack replied with a smile, looking him straight in the eye.
David Mellon, as his surname suggests, belongs to the famous Mellon family, one of the great financial empires that shaped the history of the United States. Andrew William Mellon was one of its most prominent figures: an influential banker and politician who served as Secretary of the Treasury from 1921 to 1932, under the administrations of Harding, Coolidge, and Hoover, leaving a deep mark on the economy and politics of his time.
For much of the twentieth century, the Mellon family ranked among the richest and most powerful in the country, with decisive interests in banking, industry, and American economic development. Their name became synonymous with other legendary dynasties of American capital.
However, that dominance belongs to the past. Although the surname still carries historical weight and prestige, David's family in particular still owns shares in some companies within the conglomerate, and his father holds a significant position within the Mellon financial group.
The meeting between Jack and David Mellon had nothing dramatic or grand about it.
It had happened when Jack first arrived in New York from Texas. At that time, he carried seventy thousand dollars with him, intending to step into the world of finance.
It was an era when the internet was not yet used for financial transactions. To invest, there was no choice but to open an account at a bank or a traditional financial firm.
He chose Goldman Sachs, so he decided to open his account there.
He began with basic foreign exchange operations, and the employee who assisted him was David Mellon.
Over the course of two or three months, their relationship grew increasingly close.
David Mellon was a graduate of the Wharton School of Business and came from the Mellon family. He had been working at Goldman Sachs for three years and possessed solid professional experience.
At the end of the previous year, Jack extended an invitation for him to work with him.
The reason was simple: although Jack had graduated from Rice University—the best university in the southern United States, comparable in prestige to those of the Ivy League despite not belonging to it—
After being reborn, he had studied diligently, but even so, he knew that theoretical knowledge had its limits. If it were not for a certain extraordinary advantage he possessed, he would never have dared to step into a field dominated by the brightest minds in the Western world.
Even with that advantage, he still feared being devoured by the sharks of Wall Street.
He needed an assistant: someone who thoroughly understood Wall Street and its unwritten rules.
After several months of observation, he concluded that David Mellon met all the requirements, both in professional ethics and technical ability.
So he made him the offer.
David Mellon, naturally, refused at first. Why leave a mid-level managerial position at Goldman Sachs, with annual earnings of several million dollars?
Then Jack raised the stakes: five million dollars a year.
Added to the astonishment already caused by Jack's previous investments, and to his own risk-taking temperament, David Mellon ultimately accepted.
He resigned from Goldman Sachs and brought a group of collaborators with him to join Jack.
Later on, when Jack began operating on the Nasdaq, he was responsible for defining the overall strategy, while David led the team of traders who executed the orders.
The subsequent creation of Carter Capital was also David Mellon's work, as he took on all the complex and meticulous labor of structuring the company.
In other words: if Carter Capital were a person, Jack would be its brain and its heart; David Mellon, on the other hand, would be its body and limbs.
They had known each other for three years and had worked side by side ever since the company's founding. After that, Jack granted David a 2% equity stake.
Since its creation, Carter Capital had already generated more than six hundred million dollars in profits. Two percent of that figure amounted to twelve million dollars—more than David had earned in seven years of his professional career.
And that was only the beginning.
With such a promising future and an increasingly solid working—and personal—relationship, David Mellon devoted himself completely to Carter Capital.
A week earlier, after detecting that the Japanese yen was about to experience a sharp fluctuation, the firm, under Jack's command, began aggressively entering the market to short the yen.
He selected eight of the firm's best currency traders and entered the safe house with them.
For a full week, even in Jack's absence, he meticulously followed his instructions and communicated with him periodically by phone.
He monitored every move made by the operators, handling with extreme care a base capital of one billion dollars, leveraged twenty times, to build positions designed to bet against the Japanese yen.
The eight traders remained locked inside the safe house.
David Mellon, as CEO, had not returned home for a week either. He lived at the company: he ate, slept, and stayed on guard twenty-four hours a day.
After all, they were managing a fund equivalent to twenty billion dollars after leverage.
Jack could afford to be bold. David, directly responsible for execution, could not. That level of tension had left him exhausted, which was why he had ended up falling asleep.
But now Jack had returned.
And that meant the decisive moment was close.
—How's everything going? —Jack asked with a smile, looking at David, visibly tired but alert—. Give me a market update.
David Mellon straightened up and replied in a firm voice:
—Just as you instructed, we focused mainly on the JPY/EUR and JPY/USD pairs.
He explained that the euro, officially born on January 1, 1999, had quickly become one of the world's major currencies thanks to the strength of the European Union.
The Japanese yen had held a similar position for decades, and the U.S. dollar, of course, was practically the global currency par excellence.
For that reason, both pairs were usually extremely stable, with minimal fluctuations, except in cases of extraordinary events.
—When we entered the market, the JPY/EUR exchange rate was 98.2380 —he said—. JPY/USD was at 108.3210.
He paused briefly and smiled wryly.
—Now, JPY/EUR is at 98.2450. JPY/USD at 108.3560. Also, according to your instructions, we deployed all the capital three days ago.
Jack nodded slowly.
—So… how much have we lost so far?
—We've lost sixty-four million dollars —David Mellon said with an impassive expression.
A woman in her fifties approached with a pair of coffee cups and handed one to each of them as they watched the screens.
David was nervous, because he could not understand why Jack could afford to be so calm.
Seeing him leaning back on the sofa, David noticed that Jack was holding a book in his hands, completely absorbed in reading. David stepped closer and managed to read the title: The Disciplined Trader, by Mark Douglas.
Douglas had been a Wall Street veteran who, in the 1990s, began writing about trading psychology. His books, focused on discipline, mindset, and emotional control, had enormous influence, and that particular one was considered almost an introductory read.
David couldn't help but joke:
—That's a book for Wall Street rookies. Does it really do you any good? Don't tell me you still consider yourself a beginner.
Jack looked up, sat upright, and took one of the coffee cups.
—I am. I only have my instincts, David. I lack your experience—that's why we're here, don't you think? —he replied with complete naturalness—
David was left speechless.
Deep down, he knew Jack was right. When it came to specific rules, operational mechanisms, and the tacit norms of the U.S. financial system,
Jack was practically a newcomer.
Since he had known him, Jack had almost never lost money. At worst, he made a little less. Most of the time, he achieved astonishing profits.
David had executed many of those operations, but he always asked himself the same question:
Would he have dared to make those decisions?
The answer was no.
There were investments that would never even have occurred to him. The clearest example was at the beginning of March 2000, in their first year of operations, when Jack went all in— even increasing leverage— and shorted the major Nasdaq stocks right at their peak.
At that moment, David thought Jack had lost his mind.
Market sentiment was unanimous: the Nasdaq would rise at least to 8,000 points. Big tech would double. No one was talking yet about the dot-com bubble.
David had been on the verge of running away and going back to Goldman Sachs.
But shortly afterward, the Nasdaq collapsed brutally, like an uncontrollable waterfall.
Months later, Jack had made one and a half billion dollars.
From then on, David truly believed in him. And now, that same man—whom some Wall Street veterans were already calling the Wolf—was seriously claiming that he was only a beginner.
David felt the urge to throw the coffee in his face. But he restrained himself.
David didn't reply. He sat down beside him with his Brazilian coffee, its aroma slightly herbal, and looked up at the Bloomberg screen covering the opposite wall.
And then he almost spilled the coffee on his tie.
—What… what's happening? —he exclaimed—. Why has it fallen so much?
On the screen, the numbers had changed.
JPY/EUR: 98.2370JPY/USD: 108.3220
—You're not seeing it wrong —Jack said calmly—. While you were getting the coffee, we recovered the losses. We're now at break-even.
Jack set the cup down on the table.
David jumped to his feet, ready to rush into the safe house to question the traders directly, but then he stopped.
The person responsible was standing right beside him.
—Why? —he asked—. How did this happen?
Jack shrugged.
—About five minutes ago —he replied—. Japan released some data. Very interesting. He explained that Japan's Economic and Fiscal Policy Agency had published the semiannual index of pending existing home sales:
Previous: –2.3%Expected: 1%Actual: –0.6%
Although the drop was smaller, it was still a contraction. For a real estate market that had been stagnant for a decade, it was terrible news.
Shortly afterward, the Bank of Japan released the latest business activity index:
Previous: 3.3Expected: 5Actual: 1.1
Far below expectations.
That was enough.
The yen began to collapse across the entire foreign exchange market. Massive pools of capital awoke from their slumber. Within minutes, trillions of dollars began moving frantically.
Funds, consortiums, and major institutions shorted the yen. Even Japanese government bonds were dumped onto the market. Central banks intervened. The volume of money in circulation reached absurd levels.
But even they could not contain the avalanche.
Amid that frenzy, Jack's twenty-billion-dollar leveraged order— which minutes earlier had seemed outrageous— became almost insignificant.
David Mellon had been working on Wall Street for seven years.
Before that, he had spent three years at one of the major financial firms, Goldman Sachs, and at that moment he immediately understood the shifts in the international currency market after hearing the two data points Jack had just mentioned.
—So that's it! —he exclaimed, eyes wide open—. The black swan has fallen! The Japanese yen is collapsing! Our short positions are starting to generate profits!
David's expression changed completely as he grasped what was happening.
During the mere two minutes they had been talking, driven by the frenzy of international financial giants, the yen's exchange rate continued to fall.
JPY/USD had already dropped to 108.3010.JPY/EUR had also plunged rapidly to 98.2180.
Carter Capital's short positions, which until recently had shown a floating loss of 64 million dollars, had turned into a floating profit of nearly 100 million.
And the trend was far from over.
While other central banks reacted timidly in an attempt to save Japanese bonds, the sluggish Bank of Japan had not yet made a single move.
If it decided to intervene, that wave of decline could stop right there. But if it chose not to, the collapse would likely continue.
It was at that point that international financial giants and several central banks entered into a complex game of chess.
David Mellon was completely exhilarated. He threw his coffee to the floor and ran toward the safe room. Inside, the eight traders—who had spent an entire week working under suffocating pressure—watched the market with their eyes glued to the screens.
In contrast to David's nervousness, Jack appeared much more relaxed.
After all, he knew. He knew exactly what was going to happen. The trend had already been anticipated.
In front of the screen, his eyes saw not only numbers and charts. For him, the market broke down into invisible lines, trajectories that existed for no one else.
In his mind, imaginary curves overlapped the real chart: lines of force descending smoothly, calculations that anticipated every movement. The price had not reached that point yet, but it was already contained within that invisible geometry, like a stone about to fall.
Every flickering figure confirmed what he had already seen before it happened. The market was simply following the path those invisible lines had traced long ago.
Even so, he followed David inside, and as soon as he crossed the door, he gave the order:
—Start closing positions. Close one-tenth first, beginning with the Mitsubishi UFJ contracts.
It was a clear decision: secure part of the profits first.
Upon hearing the order, the eight traders moved immediately, coordinated by David.
Within minutes, liquidation contracts for short positions worth two billion dollars appeared on the international foreign exchange market.
At the same time, not far from the Woolworth Building, in the Empire State Building, inside the safe room of Merrill Lynch Foreign Exchange Investment Company—the Merrill Lynch subsidiary specializing in currencies—a trader abruptly lifted his head and shouted to his direct superior, George:
—Boss! A two-billion-dollar liquidation contract just appeared! The yen rebounded by one point!
George Tanaka, an American of Japanese descent, had been watching the exchange.
—Everyone is short… so why close such a large position? A test by Japan? —he murmured—
He paused.
—Find out who's behind it. Which bank? Which company?
The trader operated at full speed and replied almost immediately:
—It's a contract from Mitsubishi UFJ Financial Group!
—Mitsubishi UFJ? —George repeated—. Then it must be an intermediary. Who's behind it…?
He thought for a second before making a decision.
—Crush it. Use 500 million dollars to cover us. We need to push the yen down a bit more; we're still far from our target.
—Understood!
His subordinate began executing the order.
Many other operators from major conglomerates reached the same conclusion as George.
As a result, shortly after Carter Capital closed its 2-billion-dollar contract, the Japanese yen fell even further.
That allowed Jack to secure 20 million dollars in immediate profit from that partial liquidation alone.
But what was most striking was that the floating profit of the remaining positions not only failed to decrease—it skyrocketed.
It went from just over 80 million to 230 million dollars.
And it kept rising rapidly.
Because the yen kept falling. That outcome left David completely stunned—he could almost scream with euphoria. He had already anticipated that once some players began closing their short positions, the yen should rebound slightly.
But the opposite happened.
He couldn't help turning to look at Jack, who at that moment was smiling calmly.
David really wanted to ask, how can this be?
But he didn't.
Besides, even if he had asked, Jack wouldn't have known how to explain it.
The decision to close one-tenth of the positions—and to do it specifically with the Mitsubishi UFJ contracts—had not been based on traditional financial analysis.
It had been his trap.
Luckily, David didn't ask… and Jack didn't have to invent an explanation.
He continued issuing orders calmly, instructing David and the traders to sell, buy, and close positions in a staggered manner.
And so, an hour and a half later, they no longer had any open positions in JPY/EUR or JPY/USD.
However, the numbers in the margin accounts with the different intermediaries had changed dramatically.
From the initial 1 billion dollars, the capital had increased to 2.954 billion.
The floating profit became real profit. An entire week of planning, with a maximum floating loss of 64 million… to end up earning, in barely two hours, 1.954 billion dollars thanks to the collapse of the Japanese yen.
Even after deducting commissions and interest paid to intermediaries, the net profit comfortably exceeded 1.85 billion.
The euphoria produced by that result was incomparable to any gain in the stock market.
Jack shook his head, forcing himself to stay calm. He could have chased even greater profit, waited for the market to fall a bit more before closing positions, but if he drew too much attention, some truly big players could disconnect him from the market.
Or something worse.
They could even make him disappear.
For now, everyone was betting against the yen, and that was acceptable. But if he became too greedy, the spotlight could turn toward him, and the hostility of the major financial interests he had touched would surface within minutes.
He hadn't yet reached the level necessary to afford something like that. At least, not yet.
David, on the other hand, couldn't contain himself.
—Damn it! Oh my God! Holy Mary! Son of God! Fuck!!! —he shouted, pacing back and forth—. Jack, you're incredible! You're a damn genius!
The eight traders, their cheeks still flushed with adrenaline, let out shouts of euphoria that echoed throughout the secure room, reverberating off the reinforced walls and the monitors flickering with figures they could barely comprehend.
The tension built up over the past week, with sleepless nights and an endless stream of orders, seemed to vanish all at once.
—Easy. Let's keep calm —Jack said in a firm, measured voice, yet loaded with a confidence that commanded respect. He leaned lightly against the edge of the central table, his fingers absently playing with a silver pen that reflected the glow of the monitors— Listen carefully: we're not finished yet.
The traders looked at him, attentive, feeling how Jack's authority blended with an almost arrogant calm, as if every market movement had been planned days in advance.
—First —Jack continued, his voice clear and methodical—, gradually withdraw the funds from the intermediaries. No one wants surprises. Pay all corresponding interest and commissions; leave no loose ends.
He walked up to one of the monitors and pointed at several figures:
—Second, make sure all tax procedures are spotless. Review every form, every filing. I don't want our operations attracting the attention of the IRS. They're meticulous… and ruthless if given the slightest excuse.
Jack paused, crossing his arms and looking at the traders one by one, a half-smile mixing pride and control.
David nodded solemnly, with the seriousness of someone who understood the magnitude of what they had just achieved:
—I'll take care of everything. Every step, every payment, every number. Nothing will slip through.
Jack watched him for a few seconds, evaluating his attitude, before turning back to the traders.
—You all did very well tonight. In addition to your commissions, you'll receive a $200,000 bonus. The company will also cover your personal taxes. You earned it, boys….
David smiled and nodded firmly:
—Done.
The eight traders exchanged looks full of relief and satisfaction. Some let out a nervous laugh; others closed their eyes for a few seconds, breathing deeply as if they could finally relax.
They had spent days practically locked inside that room: eating, sleeping, and even using the bathrooms there, completely absorbed by the intensity of the operations.
One of them, a young man with thick-framed glasses, approached Jack and said in a trembling voice:
—Thank you, boss. This has been… incredible.
Jack simply nodded with a faint smile and a dismissive wave of his hand:
—Keep doing your job and keep learning. This isn't luck. This is discipline, attention to detail, and control over fear. Remember that.
Meanwhile, the monitors continued to flicker with constantly changing figures, showing liquidity flowing in and out of the foreign exchange market.
Jack knew this was only another step. The real challenge would be maintaining that edge without awakening the greed and scrutiny of the financial giants lurking in the shadows.
But for now, the room was filled with euphoria, respect, and a quiet sense of invincibility that only those who play with trillions of dollars can experience.
The eight traders leaned back in their chairs, some resting their feet on improvised tables, while Jack and David shared a knowing look: they had crossed a threshold, and nothing would ever be the same again.