Bull Market Heartbreak

Elena stood before her bathroom mirror at 5:30 AM, pulling a stray gray hair from her temple. Another one. At thirty-two, she'd thought she had more time before the mirror started reminding her of mortality. But then, Richard always said she was an old soul.

She thought of him waiting downstairs in his town car—the Bull of Wall Street, they called him. Richard Merrill, whose hedge fund had shorted the 2008 crash and made three billion dollars while others lost their homes. Elena had been his junior analyst for six months before the conference in Chicago. The way he'd looked at her across the mahogany table during the merger presentation—like she was the only thing worth acquiring in a world of diminishing returns.

Now, three months later, she understood why he never invited her to his penthouse. Why their meetings happened in hotel rooms and parked cars. Why his wife's name was never mentioned, though her photograph sat on his desk like a warning.

"You're working like a dog," Richard had told her yesterday, pressing his keycard into her palm. His hands always felt expensive—soft, manicured, smelling of sandalwood and privilege. "Take the suite. Order room service. I'll join you after the board meeting."

The text had come at midnight: *Can't make it. Emergency with the fund.*

Elena had sat in that suite alone until 3 AM, watching the city lights blur through floor-to-ceiling windows, eating room service salmon that had cost more than her weekly grocery budget. Somewhere around 2 AM, she'd realized: Richard wasn't different from the other men. He was just richer at it.

She finished her makeup—professional, understated. Not trying too hard. That was what he liked, wasn't it? That she appeared intelligent rather than desperate, even as she took whatever scraps he offered.

In the car downstairs, Richard smiled without meeting her eyes. "Rough night?" His phone was already buzzing with market updates.

"Fine," she said, and meant: I'm done.

The bull market couldn't last forever. Eventually, even the most stubborn trends corrected.