About ProjectBlackPhoenix.com

We didn’t come from privilege or perfect circumstances.

We came from pressure, chaos, survival, and a world that expected both of us to stay small, stay quiet, and stay broken.

Instead, we became the opposite.

We’re not a story of one survivor and one supporter.

We’re not a story of a strong man and a quiet woman.

We’re a story of two people equally forged in fire —

two warriors who survived the same storms in different ways and walked out of the wreckage side by side.

Josh is too smart, too fast, too intense, too unfiltered, too experienced, too capable, too uncontainable for the world he landed in.

And Jessica?

She’s the only one who could match him move for move —

and beat him once in a while just to remind him he’s human.

We built our lives the hard way.

DS-Max trenches.

Nationwide travel.

Offices rising overnight.

Crews built from scratch.

Leadership by results, not titles.

Survival by grit, not luck.

We earned everything the world said we shouldn’t have:

• A multi-state legacy
• A six–seven figure numismatic archive built in under a year
• The Markle Numismatic Matrix
• A chain-of-causation record that exposes systemic failures
• The resilience to rebuild from homelessness
• A love that didn’t just survive pressure — it sharpened under it
• A mission that refuses to die

Jessica isn’t behind Josh.

Josh isn’t above Jessica.

We are two halves of the same engine —

different gears, same velocity.

We are stubborn, relentless, loyal to a fault, and allergic to lies.

We don’t run with thieves, cheats, or people who pretend capability they don’t have.

If you break your word, stay away.

If you stand by it, welcome.

When institutions failed us, we documented.

When systems broke, we archived.

When silence didn’t protect us, we spoke louder.

When the world expected us to fold, we built Project Black Phoenix.

We didn’t build it for attention.

We built it because nobody else was going to tell the truth —

and we’re done waiting for permission.

If you think our story is impossible, that’s because you never lived anything close to it.

If you’re inspired, stay close.

If you’re intimidated, move.

If you’re looking for honesty, discipline, fire, and proof — pull up a chair.

We’re not the stars of someone else’s show.

We’re the authors of our own.

We’re Josh and Jessica Markle —

partners, fighters, survivors, builders,

the storm and the calm,

the hammer and the flame,

the Phoenix and the other Phoenix.

And we’re just getting started.

I wasn’t built to stand behind anyone — I was built to stand beside the strongest man I’ve ever known, and sometimes in front of him when the fight demanded it.

People look at me and underestimate me the same way they underestimate him —

and just like him, they regret it fast.

I came up in the same trenches he did.

I wasn’t supposed to build crews.

I wasn’t supposed to outwork seasoned leaders.

I wasn’t supposed to run a management track pregnant.

I wasn’t supposed to hit numbers that took men years to reach.

I wasn’t supposed to earn my spot at the table without shortcuts.

But I did.

I wasn’t supposed to beat him in the field —

but I did.

Once for real.

A thousand times in the unspoken competitions we have in our heads.

Josh calls it arrogance.

I call it “I win.”

If you know, you know.

I’m not loud because I need attention.

I’m loud because I’ve earned every inch of ground I stand on, and nobody gets to hand me anything I’m capable of earning myself. That’s why when he tried to pull me out of the field — pregnant, exhausted, carrying his child — I looked him dead in the eye and told him:

“How dare you offer me something I haven’t earned.”

That’s who I am.

I don’t need rescuing.

I don’t need pity.

I don’t need someone to hold the door.

I walk through every room like I built the damn thing, because half the time, I did.

I’ve survived everything he has — the homelessness, the betrayals, the chaos, the systems that tried to swallow us whole — and instead of breaking, I sharpened.

I’m the angel and the devil.

The calm and the storm.

The one who loves fiercely and fights harder.

The one who will go to war for my family without apology and without hesitation.

Project Black Phoenix isn’t just his fight —

it’s ours.

And if you think a man on fire is dangerous, you’ve never seen what happens when the woman walking beside him matches his heat.

I’m not Josh’s accessory.

I’m not his “support system.”

I’m not a quiet character in his story.

I’m Jessica Markle —

co-architect, co-survivor, co-builder, co-fighter, and the only person on earth who can take him head-on and still smile after.

If you get it, welcome.

If you don’t, that’s fine —

the weak never understand the strong until it’s too late.

I didn’t come from privilege, polish, or perfect circumstances.

I came from pressure, chaos, and a life that forced me to grow teeth before I grew a plan. I got kicked out of school at seventeen, but I didn’t sit around whining about it — I went to work. I built, I learned, I adapted, and I outworked every obstacle that tried to keep me small.

My story doesn’t look believable to people who’ve never lived outside a 20-mile comfort radius.

That’s not my problem.

That’s their perspective.

Nothing I’ve done in my life was “supposed” to be possible.

I wasn’t supposed to take DS-Max offices and turn them into powerhouses.

I wasn’t supposed to build other men’s careers while they collected trophies off my work.

I wasn’t supposed to walk into a random city and have an office profitable in weeks.

I wasn’t supposed to earn the trust of millionaires or make deals happen by being myself instead of selling something.

But I did.

I wasn’t supposed to build a six–seven figure numismatic archive in under a year.

I wasn’t supposed to master coin grading, build my own MNM scale, or outmaneuver systems with teams and budgets.

I wasn’t supposed to document a multi-state chain-of-causation case better than the institutions involved.

I wasn’t supposed to survive homelessness, a semi-truck accident, insurance warfare, and systemic indifference — and come out clearer, not softer.

But I did.

I wasn’t supposed to cut my dreadlocks off for my father when my mother died — but I did, because loyalty still means something to me.

I wasn’t supposed to keep four animals alive during hell, rebuild from scratch, or protect the woman I love with the last breath I had.

But I did.

I dress how I want — long hair, frayed shirt, fake Yeezys, hole in my jeans, pocketknife in my torn pocket. I could walk into a pawn shop wearing $8 clothes with a million-dollar coin in my pocket.

People see the clothes and assume incompetence.

People with no experience assume I’m lying.

People who never built anything assume I’m exaggerating.

People who don’t understand the math of discipline assume I got “lucky.”

I’m not loud because I’m insecure —

I’m loud because silence never protected anybody.

I don’t lie, cheat, or steal — and I don’t run with anyone who does.

If you tell me you can deliver, deliver.

If you can’t, don’t sell me a fantasy.

If you break your word and show up for the payout, don’t expect a seat at my table.

Those days are done.

I’ve taken financial hits because other people piggybacked on my work and didn’t do theirs.

I’ve carried teams.

I’ve carried friends.

I’ve carried strangers.

And at the end of the day, the same people who wanted the spotlight wanted me to hold the weight.

I’m not doing that anymore.

If I say I’ll do something, I do it.

If I can’t, I come back correct.

If you doubt that, prove me wrong.

But don’t confuse your insecurity with my arrogance.

People don’t have my discipline — that’s why they don’t have my results.

They burn money on bars, cigarettes, machines, ego, and bullshit, then ask me how I drove a Lexus, lived in a house, and stayed ahead.

It’s not a mystery.

It’s math.

My entire life, I’ve been “too much” for the wrong people:

• too smart

• too fast

• too intense

• too experienced

• too unfiltered

• too capable

• too uncontainable

And you know what?

I’m done shrinking to make them comfortable.

I didn’t survive hell to fit into small rooms.

I didn’t rebuild my life to apologize for being the man I became.

I didn’t claw my way back from the edge to dim the fire so others don’t feel insecure.

If you think what I’ve built is impossible, try proving it wrong.

If you understand it, welcome — you’re cut from the same cloth.

If you’re here to learn, listen closely.

If you’re here to judge, step aside.

You’re not built for this arena.

I’m not the star of anyone else’s show.

I’m the man who lived the story, wrote the receipts, and built the archive.

I’m Josh Markle —

war-forged, unfiltered, self-made, and not done yet.