Page 11 of Ruthless Wars

“Oh God.” Rubbing her temple with one hand, Jean polishes off the rest of her drink with the other. “You’re about to rope me into some insanely risky move that could double our profits overnight or completely tank the company.”

“While the cat’s away,” I sing playfully, but Jean’s reluctance is apparent. “Aw, c’mon. Who told Dad about Lanton Enterprises? In one fell swoop, we were up fifteen percent. And who gave Jaclyn the nudge on Bridge Telecommunications? Yours truly.”

“They were both crazy risky, and we strategized for weeks. All of us. Together. And we didn’t roll the dice with our own money. We borrowed. Heavily.”

“For a hot second.”

“The venture capital firms we work with won’t give us more than a few days. It’s a tight window, and we risk a ton of shares flying out the door if the timing’s off.”

“Even if we miss the window by a day or so, no one will bat an eye. Not right away.” Confident in my position and frustrated at her stubbornness, I let out a huff. “Look, you and I both know that as soon as Jaclyn returns, everything will be back to status quo. I just want one roll of the dice. All mine. Let me make one really lasting mark on Long Multinational before I shuffle along. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Chapter Six

Coop

Late the next day

“Holy shit! Austin—get over here!”

I’m shouting because I can’t help myself. I’m loud, obnoxiously so, and everyone can hear me clear down the hall of the headquarters of my company, the Valor Group. With floor-to-ceiling glass walls separating my office from the hall, I watch my cousin take his sweet fucking time to get here.

“Any day, man.”

“Oh no.” Austin shakes his head in denial, narrowing his eyes. “I’m off the clock, and you’re supposed to be too. We’re leaving early for once and grabbing a drink.”

"You know how I work."

"Not all of it. I believe it's called plausible deniability."

By Austin's arched brow, he's already imagining the worst. In that regard, he's not wrong. I take what's mine, and God help the people who try to stop me, because to me, they're nothing but a small series of speedbumps. Inconsequential and never in my way for long.

But this is different. It's more than me just taking what's mine. I'm taking back what's ours. I clap Austin’s shoulder, steering him to the email on the monitor from what just became my favorite venture capital firm. “Check this out.”

Mr. Byrne:

You previously expressed an interest in Steele Holdings if it were to ever come on the market. The assets, as well as several others from Long Multinational, are in our possession and we are positioned to sell. We are contacting you before reaching out to other firms based on the understanding your offer is cash. Please contact us by tomorrow by close of business if interested.

With an indifferent shrug, Austin clicks through the attachments. “Okay. Then do it. Buy it. You’re sitting on a pile of cash you’ve been dying to invest. It’s everything you’ve wanted for what, six years?”

“Seven. But look at this.” With a stylus, I circle several companies listed on the sheet. “All of these Long Multinational subsidiaries just hit the auction block.”

Austin studies the screen, then disapproves with a slow shake of his head. “They’re practically worthless. Their three-year earnings show they’re barely treading water.”

“It’s not about the subsidiaries. It’s about the shares. The venture capital firm is a broker, like a pawn shop. When Long Multinational doesn’t pay back what they borrowed on time, the pawn shop does what they do best. Offload them as fast as possible. But the companies are still Long Multinational assets filled with Long Multinational shares. With Steele Holdings and the rest of them ...” I take a deep breath and recalculate the total. “I've got over ten percent in the palm of my hand. You know what that means?”

Blankly, Austin shakes his head. "Your last ten percent of rational thought just flew out the window?"

“Ten percent opens up a seat on Long Multinational’s board of directors.”

Austin’s brow shoots to his hairline. “Really?” He takes a moment, rubbing his neck. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re talking crazy money. You don’t have a hundred million lying around. And as ambitious as you are, and committed to skyrocketing the wealth of our firm, even you couldn’t whore yourself out fast enough to make that kind of dough.”

“But the Alliance does,” I say, watching his face fall. “What’s wrong?”

“It was one thing to get in bed with them when Richard was there. You're not thinking straight.”

“I’ve thought this through.”

“Have you? What’s the return on investment, and in how many years?” When I don’t respond and merely wave a dismissive hand, he probes further. “How about the basics? What are the terms? What are the board restrictions? Or how about who the hell will take the seat? You?”

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