Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!

The LA branch of Moon Enterprises towered like a knife in the sky. It was about the tallest skyscraper in the corporate part of the city.

It was rectangular, sleek, made of obsidian and silver, and the glass glistened with a color of silver that was not too distinct from the main building's, almost making it appear as though there were no windows at all.

And at the top of the skyscraper was a silver gray moon sculpted on the roof and encircled with the lettering: 'Moon Enterprises.'

The building swallowed the morning sun in mirrored reflections and was a Goliath amongst Davids in the city.

As interesting as the building itself looked, the action was happening inside of it. In the walls and halls, the atmosphere buzzed with stiff nerves and forced smiles.

After a few months, the prince was back.

Tyler Mooney had returned from Massington.

And just like every time the heir to the Mooney dynasty entered a room, the air adjusted.

This meant secretaries triple-checked their notes, interns walked straighter, and department heads rehearsed their updates in their heads.

On the top floor, in an executive office that reeked of tailored privilege, Tyler lounged behind his massive glass desk with his feet up, Italian leather shoes resting on a $30,000 mahogany finish.

He wore a tan blazer over a dark blue turtleneck, the sleeves pushed up to reveal two bracelets and a gold watch, and he scrolled lazily through his phone.

He was on Facebook, chatting with the rest of the Graduating Class of 2007/2008 in the Group Chat.

Tyler was planning big for the Reunion, and telling them things he was going to do, how he was going to show up, and promising to blow the roof off.

The replies came fast: laughter, applause emojis, someone begging to borrow a suit. He grinned, typing another snide message, when a knock came at the door.

Annoyed, Tyler glanced at the door with a brow lifted.

The door opened before he could even say anything.

Ryan Anders stepped inside, crisp as ever in a tailored navy suit, the glint of his silver tie pin barely catching the light.

"Mr. Mooney," Ryan said smoothly, tone neutral as marble. "Welcome back."

Tyler glanced up, lowering his feet off the desk with deliberate slowness. "Anders," he replied with a smirk. "Still dressing like the chairman himself, huh?"

Ryan's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I try my best. I heard you were successful in Massington. Your father will be very pleased."

Tyler chuckled. "Well, He better be. If you know the things I had to do get the Sephora family to agree." He straightened slightly, slipping into business mode.

"Anyway, it worked out in the end. SephraTech agreed to the micro-infrastructure rollout. 18-month pipeline, soft launch in Q3 next year. Told 'em we'd handle system logistics end-to-end, and threw in a phased equity option. Legal's drawing up the MOU."

"Impressive," Ryan said with a subtle nod. "SephraTech's notoriously difficult. They'll expect quarterly deliverables."

"I know. I'm not a rookie in this." Tyler grinned. "That's why I put them in a corner and handed them a pretty leash."

Ryan almost smiled. Almost. "Sharp work."

Tyler leaned forward now, lacing his fingers. "But I'm not here just to brag, Anders."

"Is that so?" Ryan said plainly, looking around. "I thought that was your favorite thing to do."

Tyler smirked, letting the jab slide. "What's this I hear about missing money? Mhm? You haven't told my father yet, it seems."

"Your father is a billionaire, Tyler. You don't bother the king with matters his knights could handle."

A grin stretched on Tyler's face. "How about the prince, hmm? Does the matter not concern him too?"

Ryan gave him an emotionless look.

"I came in today because of that one million missing from the research fund." Tyler explained. "Tell me everything about it. Have you found the culprit? If you haven't, then are you really doing your job?"

Ryan's expression didn't change. "I thought that I was going to debrief Miss Hector, Finance Department."

Tyler waved the idea away. "Yeah, but I'm here now. So brief me."

A pause.

"Alright then." Ryan's eyes flicked to the door. "Come inside, Mr. Wilson." He raised his voice slightly.

The door opened.

Terry Wilson entered the office, an anxious expression plastered over his face like duct tape over a shattering window.

"Ty!" he said, both surprised and awkward. "You're back."

Tyler blinked. "Terry? What're you doing here?"

Terry gave Ryan a side-glance. "Well, I— uh, I was told there was an issue with one of our ledgers or something—"

Ryan cut in smoothly. "Mr. Wilson, would you kindly tell Mr. Mooney what you do for Moon Enterprises?"

Terry grimaced. "Well? I mean— I'm the Operations Supervisor for Wilson Logistics. Our company handles procurement and contracting for your supply chain and construction departments. We've been a subsidiary for three years."

Tyler's brows narrowed slightly. "I know all of that. Ryan, I hired him so I know that. What's the point of this?"

Ryan stepped forward, his tone cooling. "Let me rephrase. Would you tell him what else you've been doing for Moon Enterprises?"

The silence that followed was razor sharp.

Tyler turned to Ryan, then back to Terry. "What the hell is this?"

Ryan didn't blink. "Approximately five months ago, $1,000,000 was siphoned from a dormant research fund tied to Project Fletchstone. The fund wasn't scheduled to be touched for two fiscal years. It was quietly redirected through a shadow invoice system under Wilson Logistics' procurement authorizations. That money was rerouted to personal accounts under the name of a Miss Doreen Dickson. A fake name. However, we managed to trace the origin path. Do you want to know where it came from?"

He turned to Terry. "It came from you."

Tyler's face paled. "What?"

Terry's voice cracked. "Wait— wait a second, this is out of—"

"Denying it is a waste of time. We ran the logs," Ryan continued coldly. "We checked the approvals. The IPs. The paper trail. You didn't even try to cover it, Terry."

Tyler slowly stood. "Tell me this isn't true."

Silence for a while. Hearts pounded.

Terry looked into Tyler's eyes while glancing at Ryan continuously. He swallowed hard, and the look on his face finally cracked. "Ty, I was gonna drop it back. I swear. It was just— it wasn't gonna be touched— I thought I'd replace it before year's end—"

"So you did it?" Tyler's voice rose with fury. "You stole from me? From my company? One million fucking dollars?!"

"Ty— d— don't get mad. Just listen for a bit."

"You shameless bastard. I let you leech on me!" Tyler roared. "For years, I let you eat off my plate, and this is what you do? I handed you that subsidiary, gave you access, and you stole from me like I'm some fucking mark?"

Terry's face was pale now. "Ty, come on, I didn't mean... I was desperate... I—"

"Don't Ty me!" Tyler snapped. "Your contract's canceled. We're pulling all funds, freezing every account, and you're delivering every cent of that million back by tomorrow— or you're facing court!"

"No wait, please Tyler. I can get the money, but give me a week. It's more possible if it's a wee—"

"Get the fuck out of my office!" Tyler shouted, pointing furiously at the door.

Terry stumbled backward, his eyes wide, face hollow. "Ty please, man. We're friends."

Tyler laughed madly, cold now. "Friends? You insignificant fool. I did my best to accommodate you, but now you're just a liability. You've always been an utterly worthless puck that can only achieve success by doing two things... begging or stealing."

Terry's eyes widened in shock, fear and disbelief.

"You want sympathy? Go find someone else to cry to."

When Tyler finished, Terry lingered a beat longer, before he turned and walked out, his entire world crashing behind him.

A heavy silence followed. Tyler stood still, fists trembling, breath shallow.

After some quiet moments, Ryan stepped up in front of him, completely calm, hands in his pockets, voice soft but amused. "Well, now that you've fired one of our contractors… we'll need to start looking for a new one."