The King of Short Selling

"Then you prove it or you keep your mouth shut." "And if you prove it?" Marcus drank. "Then you learn whether you wanted money or war." Ethan did not answer. Below them, traffic moved through Manhattan in red and white streams, each car part of a pattern too large to see from the street. For the first time, Marcus Black looked at him not like an employee but like a possible successor. For the first time, Ethan wondered if succession was another word for capture.