In New York's restless financial heart, Wall Street was a battleground where fortunes were made and destroyed daily. But on Sundays, even this tempestuous domain paused as financiers sought solace in faith. Amidst this tradition, Jonathan Basilio, known as the Bull Rider, emerged as a figure of divine providence, his every move closely watched and fervently pursued.
Jonathan's ritual walk to the cathedral had become an event in itself. This grand structure, constructed three years ago at immense cost, was the only Catholic cathedral in the city and a symbol of his philanthropy and power.
On this particular morning, a man named CK Jeffrimon awaited Jonathan, his desperation barely contained. His textile company, once a promising venture in the Asian market, had floundered disastrously, its stock plummeting to mere cents.
"Mr. Basilio," Jeffrimon stammered, nearly tripping over his words. "If you could just hear me out—"
Jonathan halted briefly, his calm gaze settling on the man.
