Aaron had to help Keeley. Burger Barn was beneath her. Why did she always choose this? He sighed; she likely didn't know any better. As far as he knew, this was her first fast-food job.

Returning to his father, they headed back to the office for a meeting. He'd find a solution. He knew someone with NYU connections…

Throughout the meeting, he pondered his dilemma, ignoring the projector. He knew this material. After the meeting, he remembered a future business contact—NYU's dean. Unfortunately, that wouldn't help now. He wished he could fast-forward seventeen years.

He sent an encrypted email to Aiden Quinn, aka Anomaly, a brilliant young hacker he'd reconnected with that summer. He'd secured Anomaly's loyalty by sharing details of his past life, knowledge only he possessed. The kid, obsessed with video games and short on cash, was easily swayed. Loyalty had a price.

"Can you check NYU's student job portal for a specific student's applications—pending or rejected?"

"Simple. But I want the newest first-person shooter, that Star Wars game coming out in two weeks, and a replacement Nintendo DS. What's the name?"

"Keeley Hall."

Anomaly responded in under thirty minutes. "Twelve rejected applications. What now?"

"Find the highest-paying one and get her accepted."

"On it, my dude!"

It was odd being called "my dude" by someone unaware he was mentally in his late fifties. Aiden thought his "boss" was a few years older. The body was young, but the mind… the adult treatment was frustrating. He was older than most of them!

A week later, Keeley accepted a higher-paying library job, giving Burger Barn her two weeks' notice. He wasn't sure how Anomaly managed it—the interview process involved humans—but the kid was impressive. All for a few video games!

Knowing Keeley was settled, he went to Boston in peace. It was strange; he was in the same dorm and classes, expecting her to appear. But she wasn't there. She was living her life in New York. Away from campus, he saw her ghost, pointing out things. It was depressing.

He wanted to text her, but lacked a reason. Her graduation photo sat framed on his desk; he stared at it when he missed her.

In desperate moments, he messaged Anomaly for updates, receiving snippets like, "She aced a chemistry test" or "Check out this karaoke footage." Apparently, the kid tracked her using MetroCard and debit card purchases.

The video showed Keeley singing a girl-power duet with a slightly clumsy Hispanic girl. Keeley's enthusiasm made up for any lyrical shortcomings. She was having fun, dancing and singing. He watched, softened, until the end. Keeley took a bow and yelled, "This was for you, scumbag!" to a cheering crowd.

Aaron scowled. They'd been apart five months. Had she already been in a relationship and cheated on? He felt uneasy. They'd met at school; moving on was easy. Hadn't they been engaged by graduation? He couldn't prevent it.

He needed to focus—on building his empire. He'd heard a rumor about a dorm resident who'd won every blackjack and poker game in a four-hour rec center tournament. He could use those skills.

He’d heard of the Saturday card tournaments in his past life but never gambled. He had enough money and preferred weekends with Keeley. He decided to observe.

He wasn't disappointed. The guy, round after round, won. He never guessed wrong, folded, or lost. Amazing. Other frat boys accused him of cheating, but he proved his innocence with his winnings: $65 initial bet, $700 profit in three hours.

Before investing, Aaron observed for a month. The Card King's streak continued until he was banned. He never lost.

Aaron wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it: this unassuming, nerdy-looking guy—thin, sallow, greasy black hair, thick glasses—was a gambling genius.

As the Card King left, Aaron stopped him.

"If you're mad about the money—"

"No. I have a proposition. You're Cameron Singleton, an MBA student, right?"

Cameron eyed him distrustfully. "Yeah? So?"

"A job at Hale Investments after graduation."

Cameron scoffed. "Nobody gets in straight out of school. You need five years' experience."

"I'm Aaron Hale." He stood taller.

Cameron's suspicion lessened. "Aaron Hale? Alistair Hale's son? What do you want?"

"I've seen your skills. I need your talent. Go to Atlantic City, multiply my money. In return, a job at Hale Investments, and a chance to become a shareholder and board member."

Cameron hesitated. "Too good to be true."

Aaron smiled coldly. This one was smart.

"I need your loyalty. My father's getting old; his decisions are questionable. I want to help him retire early."

"So, you're trying to oust him! Interesting. But why trust you? What if you ruin the company?"

"I'm like you—I predict things. Watch the stock market next week. Vitex shares will drop 38.5%. If I'm right, you'll see my capability. My card. Call me after the drop, but don't wait too long."

He walked away, smirking. The Vitex share drop had been a major event in his past life; a finance professor even used it in a case study. Cameron would call.