Chapter 575
Chapter 574:
“I don’t care if you drop dead tomorrow,” he snarled, leaning over her, his breath foul. “If you don’t get me that money in three days, I am going to the tabloids. I will sell them the story of how you and Robert conspired to steal from Jocelyn’s trust fund before she turned twenty-five. I’ll sell every dirty secret you have p>
He turned and stormed out, leaving Elouise weeping in the suffocating silence.
Miles away, in a hyper-exclusive members-only club in Soho, the atmosphere could not have been more different.
Jocelyn sat on a tufted leather sofa wearing a tailored emerald-green maternity blazer that radiated authority. She sipped a glass of sparkling water, her posture relaxed but her eyes razor sharp.
𝘑oi𝗻 𝘵𝗵𝖾 𝗰𝗈𝘮𝗆𝘂n𝘪𝘁у 𝘢𝘵.с𝗼m
Across from her sat Wyatt, a ruthless Wall Street investor backing the reality show, and Penelope, who looked barely concealed in her nerves.
Wyatt swirled the amber whiskey in his crystal glass and offered Jocelyn a condescending, patriarchal smile.
“Jocelyn, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. “Five percent backend points is incredibly generous for a first-time television personality. Yes, Gaston is appearing, but reality TV is a gamble. We are taking all the financial risk p>
Jocelyn did not smile back. She set her water glass down with a soft, deliberate click.
She reached into her designer bag, produced a sleek iPad, and slid it across the table to Wyatt.
“Actually, Wyatt,” she said, her voice crisp and commanding, “your last three streaming investments tanked by twenty percent because they lacked a genuine hook. You are bleeding capital p>
Wyatt’s smile vanished. He stared at the highly confidential financial data on the screen.
“My husband and I are not a gamble,” Jocelyn continued, leaning forward. The absolute confidence of the Collins empire rolled off her in waves. “We are a ratings nuclear bomb. People are obsessed with Gaston, and they are obsessed with our marriage. We are the only reason this show will survive p>
Penelope held her breath, terrified Wyatt was about to walk.
“I want fifteen percent of the backend,” Jocelyn said coldly. “And I want full creative control funding. If you cannot meet that, I will walk out of this club right now and take this concept directly to Collins Media Group. We will produce it ourselves, and you will get nothing p>
Wyatt’s jaw tightened. He played his last card.
“Jocelyn, be careful,” he said, his voice dropping. “The streaming market is volatile. A project can lose its primary institutional funding overnight for unforeseen reasons. Let’s keep this friendly p>
Jocelyn laughed — a cold, sharp sound.
“Gaston does not have friends when it comes to business,” she said, staring Wyatt dead in the eye. “And he certainly does not have friends who try to shortchange his wife. Do we have a deal, Wyatt p>
Wyatt looked at her and saw the absolute, unshakeable certainty behind her eyes. She was not bluffing. She had learned how to be a predator from the best in the world.
He gritted his teeth and extended his hand. “Fifteen percent. Deal p>
Jocelyn shook it, a triumphant thrill racing through her veins.
A few minutes later, she walked out of the club into the cool evening air. Gaston’s armored Maybach waited at the curb. She slid into the backseat and tossed the signed contract onto his lap.