Chapter 167 Laura's Plea for Help
Lori's world spun, the walls of the conference room seeming to close in on her. It was all happening too fast. Her father, struck down in his prime as his life force flickered like a candle in the wind. Now, FutureTech, his legacy, was on the verge of being ripped from their grasp.
Rex's betrayal stung, a venomous bite that spread poison through her veins.
'How could he, a man we'd shown mercy to, betray us so quickly? He is such a scumbag!'
She felt lost in despair, the weight of responsibility crushing her.
However, a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder pulled her back from the brink.
"Miss Brown," a familiar voice, laced with concern, broke through the fog of her despair. "I heard what happened."
It was Jesse, the Brown family's loyal butler. He looked worried.
Lori looked up at him, her eyes confused and desperate. "Jesse, what… what can we do? It's over. We've lost."
"Not necessarily, Miss Brown," he said steadily, a beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness. "There might be a way to salvage this. The share transfer isn't finalized yet; if we can find investors, raise enough capital to buy back the shares before VitaCure Labs makes its move…"
"Raise capital?" Lori echoed, her voice hollow. "Jesse, we're talking about billions! Who in their right mind would lend us that kind of money, knowing the state we're in?"
"It's a long shot, I know," he conceded, "But it's our only hope. We need to explore every avenue, no matter how improbable."
His words sparked a flicker of defiance in Lori's eyes. He was right; giving up wasn't an option. Not while there was even the slimmest chance of saving her father's company.
She thought of their family friends, business associates, anyone who might be willing to help. However, the numbers were staggering. Even if they pooled their resources, it wouldn't be enough; not even close.
As if on cue, her phone buzzed with a news alert. "Creator Investment Firm Makes Another Splash, Acquiring Majority Stake in Tech Startup…"
Lori's heart skipped a beat. Creator. The name resonated with power, innovation, and bold moves that made headlines. Other than that was Witness, their rival in the world of high-stakes finance, rumored to have access to virtually limitless funds.
"Jesse," Lori said, her voice gaining a newfound urgency, "What if we reached out to Creator? They have a reputation for investing in promising companies, even those facing… challenges."
Mary and Susan, who had been listening with fear and confusion with worried eyes, suddenly perked up.
"Creator?" Mary exclaimed. "You mean… Paul Three's company?"
"Yes!" Lori said, a glimmer of hope igniting within her. "He's known for his unconventional approach and willingness to take risks. Maybe… just maybe…"
Susan's eyes widened as she interjected, "Wait a minute, didn't Elbert say he knew Paul Three? And that they were… friends?"
"He did, didn't he?" Mary chimed in, her face brightening. "And their names… Paul White, Paul Three… it's like destiny!"
Lori hesitated, her emotions a tangled mess. The thought of turning to Elbert and being indebted to him yet again, filled her with gratitude and apprehension. He'd already done so much for them.
However, time was running out.
"No," Lori said, her voice resolved. "We won't involve Elbert in this and contact Creator directly. It's our fight, and we'll face it head-on. At worst, I'll offer them my shares in FutureTech as a gesture of good faith."
Meanwhile, at Creator's headquarters, Elbert stepped out of the elevator, his movements radiating an aura of quiet confidence. It had been weeks since he'd last set foot in the office, but his presence still commanded attention.
The receptionist, a recent hire, blushed as she saw him. He was a legend, a visionary, and, if rumors were true; the man behind the enigmatic Paul Three.
"Mr. Weaver is currently unavailable," she stammered, her heart pounding. "Would you… would you like to wait in his office?"
Elbert smiled faintly, his gaze sweeping across the bustling office, taking in the energy and ambition in the air. "Actually," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I believe I'll use my own office today. I'm expecting some… visitors."
She blinked, her mind struggling to process his words. Paul Three's office? But it was off-limits. A monument to a founder who preferred to operate from the shadows, who shunned the trappings of corporate grandeur.
As if reading her thoughts, he turned back and smiled knowingly. "Don't worry," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "They're coming to see me."
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