Chapter 3: Deals in the Desert

He booked a one-way ticket to Dubai, suitcase in hand, eyes on the prize. While his classmates were updating LinkedIn profiles, Jonah was networking in hotel lobbies, learning to read the room with every handshake.

He wore his best suit, rehearsed his pitch, and tried to mask the nerves in his voice. The lunch was at a five-star hotel, the kind where the air conditioning is colder than the stares you get if you’re not someone.

He was a rising star in UAE politics. His father was the country’s first oil minister—a man with serious political clout.

Otaiba’s name opened doors, and Jonah knew it. The lunch wasn’t just a meal—it was an audition for the big leagues.

He’d done his homework. Otaiba had connections everywhere, but he wasn’t the family favorite. That made him both hungry and vulnerable—the perfect mark for Jonah’s ambitions.

He moved through the world with a chip on his shoulder, always trying to prove himself. Jonah recognized that look—it was the same one he saw in the mirror.

It was a classic case of “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” Jonah saw the gaps in Otaiba’s armor and slid right in.

He barely made eye contact, checking his phone every few minutes. Jonah could feel the clock ticking, but he pushed through, cracking jokes and dropping names until Otaiba finally looked up.

Jonah had a way of making things sound bigger than they were. He painted a vision, and Otaiba started to see himself as part of it.

He wasn’t just another trust fund kid. Jonah talked numbers, strategy, and opportunity like he’d been doing it for years. Otaiba was intrigued, maybe even a little impressed.

They started grabbing lunch regularly, trading stories about their families, their ambitions, and the deals they wanted to close. They were two outsiders looking for a way in.

He waited for the right moment—over coffee, maybe, or a late-night drink. He let Otaiba feel like he was in on a secret.

He spun a story about untapped markets and sky-high returns, making the whole thing sound inevitable. Otaiba leaned in, hungry for a piece.

He liked the idea of being a rainmaker, the guy who brought deals to the table. Jonah made him feel important, and that was half the battle.

Khaldoon was the head of Mubadala, Abu Dhabi’s sovereign wealth fund. Just how powerful is that?

Think of it as the country’s piggy bank—set up with money from oil, foreign reserves, the works. It’s not just a vault; it’s a giant investment machine.

Instead of investing money earned from oil sales, it uses oil as collateral to raise funds in international markets, then invests that money in domestic infrastructure.

Abu Dhabi can raise as much money as the amount of oil it can produce.

So, how much oil does Abu Dhabi have? It accounts for 90% of all oil in the UAE.

When international oil prices go up, Mubadala’s power only grows.

He was the kind of guy who could make or break fortunes with a phone call. Jonah knew he was playing in the big leagues now.

He spent nights scribbling notes, drawing up plans, thinking about what he could do with that kind of firepower. The scale of it all made his college parties look like lemonade stands.

Why hustle for a few million when you could move billions? Jonah’s mind raced with possibilities.

He let the thought hang in the air, unfinished, but full of promise. It was a new horizon, and he wanted in.

He’d tasted the big leagues, and there was no going back. The dream was bigger now—bolder, riskier, and a hell of a lot more dangerous.

Jonah watched his friends line up for interviews, trading business cards and worrying about their resumes. He wanted more—something with legacy, something that would put his name on the map.

He saw himself not just as a businessman, but as a kingmaker—someone who could move nations, not just numbers.

He missed the food, the warmth, the way the rain sounded on the tin roofs. But most of all, he saw opportunity—a place where he could be a big fish in a small pond.

The headlines back home were full of big plans—oil discoveries, new economic zones, talk of turning Malaysia into the next Singapore. Jonah saw dollar signs everywhere.

He knew the game—without a seat at the table, you were just another outsider knocking on the door. He needed leverage.