Chapter 4: Reinventing the Kingmaker

He’d spun the tale for years, but back home, everyone knew the truth. His family was well-off, sure, but not royalty. The mask wouldn’t hold up in the daylight.

The kind of family that sent their kids to private school and drove European cars, but not the kind that ran the country.

He’d gone from big fish to small fry, and it stung. That’s why he worked so hard to build his legend overseas.

Every party, every handshake, every whispered rumor—it was all part of the plan. He was building a brand, one wild story at a time.

Americans loved a good rags-to-riches story, but back home, the truth was always just a phone call away.

He needed a new angle—something that would open doors without blowing his cover.

He scrolled through his old contacts, weighing his options. Ryan’s name jumped out—someone he’d always kept at arm’s length, but now, maybe, the key to everything.

They’d bumped into each other at school events, exchanged polite nods, but never really connected. Jonah had always kept his distance, worried Ryan might blow his cover.

It was a delicate dance—close enough to keep tabs, far enough to avoid awkward questions. Jonah played it cool, but he never let his guard down.

He reached out, suggesting coffee or a round of golf. Ryan was surprised, but intrigued. Old rivalries faded fast when there was money on the table.

That connection was gold—better than any fake title. Jonah saw his opening and moved fast.

He mapped out the introductions, rehearsed his pitch, and made sure every meeting felt casual, even when it wasn’t. He knew how to play the long game.

Ryan’s Instagram was a highlight reel—private jets, designer watches, parties in Ibiza. Jonah took notes, always looking for an angle.

It didn’t add up, but Jonah didn’t care. In fact, it made things easier. People with secrets were always looking for allies.

He saw the cracks in the armor and knew how to exploit them. It was just a matter of time.

Jonah became a master at reading the room, figuring out what people wanted before they even said it. With Ryan, it was easy—status, respect, and maybe a little danger.

He played the part—polite, deferential, but confident. Najib was impressed, and the door swung open.

He tossed his cap in the air, posed for photos, and told everyone he was heading home to “change the world.” Few believed him, but he didn’t care.

He landed in Kuala Lumpur, suitcase in hand, ready to make his mark. The city felt different—bigger, faster, full of possibility.

He called it Wynton Group—meaning “win tons of money.”

The name was a little on the nose, but it stuck. He liked the way it sounded—American, ambitious, just a touch flashy.

He’d done his homework. The BVI was the place to go if you wanted to keep things off the books and away from prying eyes.

He took selfies in the lobby, posted them online, and let everyone think he was already a player. The reality was less glamorous—an empty office, a rented desk, and a mountain of debt.

He maxed out credit cards, called in favors, and sweet-talked bankers. It was a high-wire act, but he loved the adrenaline.

They were smart, hungry, and willing to take a chance. Jonah promised them the world, and for a while, they believed him.

They spent long nights crunching numbers, hoping for a big break. The pressure was real, but so was the dream.

He showed up at every gala, every ribbon-cutting, every charity golf tournament. His business card collection grew faster than his bank account.

He believed in luck, but he believed even more in being ready when luck finally showed up.

The city buzzed with rumors, alliances shifting, everyone jockeying for position. Jonah saw opportunity everywhere.

Jonah watched the polls, read the headlines, and plotted his next move.

It was a bold promise, and Jonah could practically hear the cash registers ringing.

He called it his “golden ticket”—the break he’d been waiting for. He started making calls before the press conference was even over.

He painted a picture of skyscrapers, bustling ports, and fortunes waiting to be made. Otaiba was hooked.

He pitched it hard, throwing in every buzzword he knew. Otaiba promised to pass it along.

It took a few days, but the answer came back: Khaldoon wanted in.

Jonah could barely contain his excitement. He felt like he’d just won the lottery.

He played the go-between, setting up meetings, sending emails, making sure everyone felt like they were getting a special deal.

It was the kind of number that made headlines. Jonah celebrated with a quiet drink, savoring the moment.