Billionaire Cashback System: I Can't Go Broke!-Chapter 47: Butterflies

Returns processed at 6:08 AM.

Ryan saw them before he was fully awake, the phone already in his hand from the nightstand with the automatic reflex that had developed over the past few weeks.

> RETURNS PROCESSED — SALARY PAYMENTS

> Sophie Muller — Weekly salary return: $6,000

> Danny Larson — Weekly salary return: $6,000

> Mike Benter — Weekly salary return: $5,000

> Liam Ofscore — Weekly salary return: $5,000

> Iralis Davids — Weekly salary return: $5,000

> Total returned: $27,000

> Current Balance: $125,447.82

He looked at the number.

A hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. In his account. His personal account, it had nearly nothing the morning after the worst night of his life.

He put the phone face down on the mattress and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

Then he checked the stats.

> POWER: 8 (+3)

> REPUTATION: 30 (unchanged)

The power increase made sense — the Diana meeting, the investment, the company formation solidifying into something. Reputation hadn’t moved, which meant the world at large hadn’t caught up yet to what was being built. That would change.

He got up.

---

The investment documents arrived at 9:23 AM in an email from a name he didn’t recognize at a firm he did — Diana’s legal team, sharp and expensive, an outfit that didn’t send drafts until they were confident in them.

Ryan made coffee and read through the full document at the kitchen table.

Forty-one pages.

He read all forty-one.

The headline terms were on page three. Nine hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Four percent equity. Standard investor protections — pro-rata rights, information rights, the advisory board seat they’d discussed. The valuation implied by the terms put Rebuild Tech at just over twenty-three million dollars pre-money.

Twenty-three million.

For a company with no revenue, a twelve-week MVP timeline, and five employees working out of their individual apartments.

He turned that number over in his head for a while. On one level it was absurd — the company was weeks old and had produced nothing yet. On another level it was exactly what early stage venture capital was: a bet on trajectory, not position. Diana was paying for where this was going, not where it was.

And she’d valued it at twenty-three million.

He sat with that.

The four percent had been the sticking point in the negotiation — Diana’s initial ask had been seven, which was reasonable for the stage and the amount, and Ryan had held at four with a calm that came from knowing he didn’t need the money as urgently as the negotiation suggested.

The system had given him that leverage. Diana had moved.

He forwarded the document to Sophie with a note: ’Full review before it goes to the firm. Flag anything that reads differently from what we discussed. Priority.’

Sophie’s response came in four minutes: ’On it. Give me two hours.’

He sent a separate email to the legal firm introducing Sophie as the operational contact for document coordination.

Then he opened his notes from the IRS preparation.

He spent three hours on it.

The story was clean now — Diana’s investment, backdated and properly documented, provided the source for the deposit pattern.

The amounts mapped. The timeline mapped. The paper trail from Lockridge Capital, now Lockridge Capital, showed an initial consultation period, a term sheet, and a capital injection that corresponded to the irregular deposits in his personal account, which were framed as founder disbursements from the company account that the investment had funded.

It held together.

He went through the likely questions.

Where did the money come from — the investment. Why was it deposited in a personal account rather than a business account — initial disbursements before the business account was fully operational, a common occurrence in early stage companies.

Why the regular pattern — scheduled founder salary, established at formation.

Every answer pointed somewhere that existed. Every document existed. Diana’s attorney had made it clean.

He closed the notes.

Sophie sent back the investment document at 11:47 with three flags — two minor drafting inconsistencies and one clause she wanted clarified around the information rights scope. All three were legitimate catches. He forwarded them to Diana’s firm with Sophie’s notes attached. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

The firm responded within the hour. Two of the flags were accepted and amended. One they pushed back on with a counter-explanation that Sophie reviewed and signed off on.

By two in the afternoon, the document was on its way to Rebuild Tech’s legal representation for final review before signing.

He sat back.

The IRS interview was in ten days. The investment documentation would be signed before then. The accountant — a woman named Patricia who he’d hired through Sophie’s vetting process and still hadn’t met in person — had already begun filing the amended company financial records.

It was as solid as he could make it.

He got up, went to the kitchen, made another coffee, and stood at the window looking at the street below.

A woman walking a dog that was substantially larger than its enthusiasm for walking suggested it should be. A delivery driver double-parked with confidence of a who had made peace with the consequences.

He stood there for a while.

Then he went to the couch, picked up the remote, and turned on the television – he’d hoped for a Pistons game.

The Brooklyn Nets were playing.

His team, his actual team, the one he’d followed since he was eleven years old and his uncle had taken him to his first game and he’d decided immediately and permanently where his loyalty lived.

He watched them for thirty seconds.

Then he turned it off.

He sat in the quiet of the apartment with the remote in his hand and thought about the past weeks. The system, money, company, Sophie, Diana, poker table, gallery, balcony with the city below them and the rain.

The balcony.

He sat there another few minutes.

Then he picked up his phone, opened his contacts, and called Zara.

It rang twice.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

And then neither of them said anything for a while. Long enough that it should have been uncomfortable and somehow wasn’t — the silence sitting between them on the line like something that had been there before and was familiar.

Ryan broke it first.

"It’s been a while," he said.