Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Violet took a deep breath and said, "Good morning, Mr. York."

Tyrone gestured towards a chair, signaling Violet to take a seat.

Once seated, Violet asked, "May I inquire why you've invited me here today?"

Tyrone glanced at James, who promptly stepped forward and placed a check in front of Violet.

Tyrone said, "Fill it out with any amount."

Violet was stunned. "What do you mean, Mr. York?"

Tyrone responded indifferently, "I want your studio."

His voice was soft, yet his tone was cool and detached as if he was simply passing on a message to a subordinate-leaving no room for doubt or refusal.

Shock registered on Violet's round and plump face. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

After a moment, Violet finally gathered her wits. "But Mr. York, I know you're not short on cash, yet my studio is quite modest. It hardly seems worth your while. Besides, when I left my previous company, I did so because I wanted..."

Tyrone cut her off, "This isn't a negotiation."

With that single sentence, he silenced all of Violet's prepared arguments. When you have money, you can afford to be imperious.

Tyrone's message was clear: I'm not asking for your permission; I'm telling you what I want. Take the money, or don't-either way, I will have what I seek.

In her heart, Violet thought bitterly-He's no better than a bandit!

Wasn't this just like a bandit's way? Flaunting wealth to bully others?

An inner voice whispered to Violet: Yes, he has the money, and yes, he can bully you because of it.

James smiled at Violet, saying, "Ms. Sullivan, I understand your concerns. You must worry that the corporate control would make your studio lose creative freedom in managing your artists. We can offer you complete autonomy. What the York Financial Group wants is your studio, firmly in our grasp. Name your price, because no matter what, the outcome will be the same. Of course, you can refuse." James' reminder was subtle, but the message was clear: Sell it, and you'd profit. If not, you'd lose everything either way. It's your choice-celebratory champagne or penalty shots?

Violet regained her composure, yet she regretted not having let Quinn know this was nothing short of a setup.

No wonder James had warned her to avoid Quinn. Their ultimate goal in acquiring her studio was to gain leverage over Quinn.

Violet nodded, "So, if I understand it correctly, whether I sign this document or not doesn't really make a difference, does it?"

James nodded back, "That's one way to put it. We're here to hear your opinion, Ms. Sullivan. We want to ensure that whatever you decide, it's done freely and willingly. Take your time. We have all day." The message between the lines was clear: You won't be leaving without signing.

Violet took a sip of the coffee in front of her, half-expecting that she might end up throwing it in someone's face.

Now she understood why Quinn spoke of Tyrone with such venom. To the world, he appeared noble and distant, but beneath that façade lay his shameless pride.

Suppressing her anger, Violet asked, "So, Mr. York, your real interest is in Quinn, isn't it?"

Tyrone confirmed, "Exactly."