Chapter 300
I felt a surge of disdain.
Did this guy really think I was that gullible?
Still, anyone who could become a director had to have some skills. At the very least, they weren't afraid to put themselves out there, which was more than you could say for the average person.
Caution warred with curiosity. "Mr. Knight," I said carefully, "as they say, if you want me to believe you, you'd better give me a reason."
Lucas's jaw tightened. "John, I do have a reason!"
"And that would be…?" I raised an eyebrow, urging him on.
"Someone's trying to hurt you!"
"Oh?" I leaned forward, feigning interest. "And who might that be?"
"Nicole!"
Calmly, I pulled out my phone and pressed record. I couldn't wait to see Nicole's face when she heard this conversation.
"Ms. Cooper wouldn't do that," I said sternly. "Yesterday, Mr. Foster himself spoke with her, and they put the whole thing behind them."
Lucas's agitation was almost comical. "It's true, John! Why would I lie? Nicole's a snake, she's planning something awful!"
"Enough with this ridiculous charade!" I slammed my hand on the table, slipping into character. "Get out! I don't want to see you here again."
"John, I swear I'm telling the truth." Lucas's voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "I have proof!"
I narrowed my eyes. "Proof? What proof?"
He fumbled with his phone, finally pulling up his chat history with Nicole. "Look, it's all here! Our conversations!"
I scanned the messages. They were pretty much what Nicole had already told me.
Putting on a show of anger and disbelief, I spat out, "That despicable woman!"
"Exactly! She's vile!" Lucas practically vibrated with indignation.
I fixed him with a cold stare. "And you're no saint yourself."
Lucas chuckled nervously, scratching his head. He tried to look innocent, but the act was paper-thin.
"And it's not just me she's after," he continued, "Ms. Smith's on her list too. You guys are playing a dangerous game."
"John, I'm innocent! She tried to use me, but it didn't work. You can see that, right?"
"Yes, well, at least you came to your senses," I said, tossing the phone back on the table. "Otherwise, even God himself couldn't have saved you. Let this be a lesson. Choose your friends wisely."
"I know, I know!"
"Good." I nodded curtly. "Paul's mixed up in this too. You know what you have to do."
"That ungrateful wretch! You were kind enough to make him project assistant, and this is how he repays you? I'll take care of him, don't you worry!"
"There's no need to be rash." I waved a dismissive hand. "Let's just make him sweat a little. That's always more satisfying."
Lucas shuddered. "Right… of course."
As soon as he left, I uploaded the recording to my private cloud.
Going after her inner circle was too risky. Ms. Charlotte would report every word I said straight back to Linda. Once she was on her guard, it would be nearly impossible to make a move.
'Joseph, then. If Vincent resigns, the Garcia family loses their biggest advantage. He won't be so smug then.' I thought.
Patrick had been digging up dirt on the Garcia family for days. TY Media's meteoric rise was entirely due to Vincent's connections. Investors flocked to them, and even those who came for Vincent himself ended up handing their projects over to TY Media. That was the source of Joseph's arrogance.
With a plan forming in my mind, I headed straight for Nexus Enterprises.
The weather was getting hotter by the day, and Sevan City beer sales were skyrocketing. We already had a thirty percent market share, which was phenomenal.
Sevan City was a coastal city with a massive thirst for alcohol. The fact that Sevan City beer managed to stand out amongst so many established brands was a testament to the Liquor Industry Association's support and WY Media Company's marketing genius.
As a local brand that had just won a gold medal at a prestigious tasting event, Sevan City beer, with its smooth, refreshing taste, had quickly become a local favorite.
Thanks to Patrick's connections, it was now the flagship product of the entire Sevan City beer industry.
"Patrick!"
"Have a seat, I just need to finish this report." He tossed me a cigar, and I settled in to wait. A moment later, his secretary came in, her arms laden with forms.
Twenty minutes and a mountain of paperwork later, Patrick emerged. "John, we're averaging 4.2 million bottles a day!"
I nearly choked on my cigar smoke. "We are? Already?"
Beer was incredibly profitable, even more so than the media industry.
He dropped another report in front of me. "We've had a ton of stores sign up for franchises this week. We've already collected 1.3 billion dollars in fees!"
"You're kidding, right?" I gaped at him. "That's insane!"
"You call that insane? Just wait. By next month, we'll be selling in multiple provinces."
These were some of the wealthiest provinces in the country, with a combined population, including migrant workers, of around three billion. That was a quarter of the national market! And the national beer market was worth an estimated 800 billion dollars!
"We'll be selling tens of millions of bottles a day." Patrick shook his head. "Well, almost. Distributors will be stocking up, so there'll be a bit of a lag. But if we manage to break into those provinces, we should be able to maintain daily sales of at least eight million."
I did the math in my head. There were about a hundred days of summer left. At eight million a day, with a profit margin of about fifty percent, that was four million in profit per day. One hundred and twenty million a month…
Could I really make four to five billion dollars in one summer?
It seemed impossible.
Even after factoring in transportation and labor costs, the recyclable bottles saved them a fortune.
With my fifteen percent stake, I stood to make fifty to sixty million by the end of summer.
At this rate, I'd be a billionaire by the end of the year!
As I was letting the numbers sink in, Patrick continued, "But eight million a day is nothing. Do you know how much the best-selling beer in the country makes?"
I shook my head.
"Forty-nine million," he said.
"What?"
"Forty-nine million bottles. A day."
That was a hundred million dollars every two days.
Over a hundred billion a year!
The beer business is a gold mine!
"Everyone's making money hand over fist during the summer," Patrick said, "but winter… winter is where the real battle begins. To keep sales up, they pull out all the stops: promotions, price wars… They'll even sell at a loss just to hold onto their market share."
I nodded grimly. The market is a battlefield. There's no room for sentiment.
"Our traditional and new media platforms have a combined audience of over sixty million," I mused. "We could start a Sevan City Beer Festival. What do you think?"
"A beer festival?" Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Now that's an idea I can get behind!"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's wait until we hit a hundred million, then we'll make it happen."
Patrick nodded, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. "These past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I never imagined Sevan City beer would take off like this. By the end of the year, everyone will know our name."
"And you'll be a billionaire." I grinned. Just the thought of it was exhilarating.
We discussed business for a while longer, then I said, "Patrick, have you heard about the three hundred billion dollar project Sevan City is trying to attract?"
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