Chapter 141 - 55% Buyout!

She hesitated, looking back toward the doors of Quin Records where executive board members were currently screaming into their phones. "Sir, I... I work for Fastine Hope. I have a mountain of fire control to handle this morning—"

"I know who you work for," I interrupted calmly, gesturing toward the back seat of the climate-controlled SUV. "Which is precisely why you should get in."

She swallowed hard, looking at the chaos inside the building, and finally stepped into the car.

As the tinted doors slid shut, cutting off the noise of the street, a translucent, golden panel flickered into my vision right beside her head, invisible to her:

[SYSTEM TALENT ANALYSIS DETECTED]

Target: Fastine’s Executive PA

Operational Efficiency: 8.8 / 10 (Peak Workhorse / High Executive Potential)

Current Trajectory: Underpaid, Overworked, Bound to a Sinking Ship

Loyalty Potential: High (If properly incentivized and valued)

A slow, satisfied smile settled on my face. An 8.8 potential sitting right in front of me, trapped under Fastine’s toxic management.

"I’ll make this direct," I said, leaning back and resting my hands on my lap. "I want you as my chief Personal Assistant. Permanent position, starting today."

She blinked in absolute shock, almost dropping her tablet. "What? Sir, I... I’ve been with Fastine for years. I know how Quin Records operates, but—"

"I’m offering you ten times your current salary," I said, my tone entirely flat, stating it like a basic fact. "Full legal and physical protection from Quin Records, corporate housing, and direct operational authority over key assets in my brand-new investment corporation."

Her jaw practically dropped. She stared at me as if trying to figure out if this was a elaborate joke or a fever dream. Ten times her current pay wasn’t just a raise—it was life-changing wealth, paired with actual executive power.

"Ten times...?" she stammered, her hands visibly trembling on her tablet. She caught herself, taking a sharp breath, her eyes narrowing slightly. "A package like that doesn’t come for free. What do you want in return?"

"Two simple things," I murmured, leaning forward slightly, my gaze cutting straight through her. "First, absolute loyalty to me. Second, every piece of internal intelligence, hidden financial records, and operational dirt you hold on Quin Records and Fastine Hope."

She sat in complete, dead silence for five long seconds.

Her mind was clearly racing—weighing years of being overworked, underappreciated, and yelled at by a desperate Fastine against the chance to step straight into an executive role in a multi-billion-dollar empire with full protection.

She looked out the tinted window at Quin’s crashing stock price flashing on a nearby news screen, then looked back at me. A slow, decisive breath left her chest.

"Fastine hasn’t paid our department bonuses in six months," she said softly, her voice suddenly hardening with sharp resolve. "And I have a secure flash drive in my bag containing five years of off-the-books contract manipulations and board meeting transcripts."

She held out her hand to me.

"I’m your new PA, sir."

I took her hand, giving it a firm, confident shake as a cold smirk spread across my face.

Fastine didn’t just lose her market share and her star artist—I had just stripped away her left hand, her entire operational intelligence, and the key to completely dismantling Quin Records from the inside.

The tinted glass of the SUV slid shut, sealing out the morning chill as my new PA took a quiet, steadying breath. I leaned back, crossing my legs smoothly.

"Start with the immediate threat," I said, eyeing her with a sharp, expectant look. "What is Fastine doing right now?"

She pulled up her tablet, her fingers moving with crisp efficiency. "She’s currently losing her mind on the 14th floor. The entire board called an emergency session ten minutes ago to vote on her removal."

"An emergency board meeting?" I asked, a sharp, dangerous smile spreading across my face. "Right now?"

"Yes, sir," my new PA nodded quickly, checking her phone as notifications continued to pour in. "The main board of directors called an emergency session on the 14th floor of their corporate tower. They’re panicking over the 79% stock plunge and discussing whether to file for emergency restructuring or force Fastine out completely. I can get you past security at the front desk and give you direct access to the executive elevator. But first, I need to walk in and drop my formal resignation letter right on Fastine’s desk."

"Go ahead and drop it," I said smoothly, leaning back against the leather seat. "Make sure she reads every single word. Then meet me at the front entrance."

"Understood, sir," she replied, a faint, vindicated smirk tugging at her lips as she opened the car door and headed inside.

I watched her walk toward the glass doors, my mind instantly locking onto a masterstroke of a play.

With Quin Records’ market valuation completely gutted and institutional investors dumping millions of shares in a panic, the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Buying up small, non-voting retail shares was for amateurs. If I wanted absolute, unquestioned control of this label, I needed to go straight for the throat: securing 55% of the total voting shares.

55% meant absolute control. It meant the power to override the entire board, dismiss Fastine on the spot, seize their entire global distribution catalog, and transform Quin Records into a subsidiary of my new corporation in a single afternoon.

I pulled out my phone and called Chloe immediately.

"Chloe," I said, my tone dripping with absolute confidence. "Quin’s board is currently panicking in an emergency meeting on the 14th floor. The institutional holders are desperate to liquidate before the company hits zero. I want our brokerage team to aggressively sweep up 55% of the voting shares right now, off-market and from distressed board members."

"Consider it done," Chloe answered without a second of hesitation, her keys already clacking frantically in the background. "With their stock at a historic low, acquiring a 55% controlling stake in voting shares will cost us a fraction of what it was worth yesterday. I’m executing the block trades now."

"Good," I murmured, staring up at the towering glass building of Quin Records. "I’m walking into that board meeting in ten minutes as their new majority owner."