Clark Davis stared at the cashier’s check resting on the folding card table. The amount—two hundred and fifty thousand dollars—was printed in bold, crisp ink. Next to it sat his copy of the countersigned acquisition agreement.
"The funds are drawn from the Cayman treasury," Toby said, tapping the paper. "They will clear any domestic bank within forty-eight hours. You are officially capitalized, Clark."
Clark slowly picked up the check, his hands trembling slightly. "I built that code in my pajamas. Now I’m holding a quarter of a million dollars."
"You sold thirty percent of your company," Grayson corrected smoothly. "Do not celebrate the capital, Clark. Celebrate the infrastructure we are going to build with it. The money is just the fuel."
"Right. The infrastructure," Clark said, care
