Chapter 190

That evening, after both children were asleep.

Yasmin leaned against the headboard reading. Theodore came out of the shower and wrapped his arms around her from behind, chin resting in the curve of her shoulder.

"What are you reading?"

"Next semester's curriculum outline." Yasmin turned a page. "There's a student with real talent. I'm thinking of letting him lead a project independently."

"Good." Theodore's response was distracted, his hand slipping inside her pajama top.

Yasmin caught his hand and looked back at him. "Long day. Get some rest."

"Not tired." Theodore kissed her earlobe, voice rough. "I was just thinking—a year ago, I almost destroyed all of this."

Yasmin knew what he meant.

She turned to face him, fingers gently tracing his cheek.

This past year, Theodore had become more reserved, but the warmth in his eyes ran deeper than ever before.

"It's in the past," she said.

"Not for me." Theodore took her hand and placed it over his heart. "It's all here. Yasmin, thank you."

Thank you for not giving up on me when I was at my worst.

Thank you for giving me another chance.

The peace was shattered by an uninvited guest.

His name was Harrison Hughes, chief representative of the Locke Group.

"Mr. Prescott. Ms. White." Harrison spoke with an air of superiority he couldn't quite hide. "The Locke Group holds great respect and interest in the Prescott Group's positioning in the new energy sector, as well as Ms. White's Yasmin Design Academy."

Harrison paused and pushed a thick document to the center of the table.

"This is a win-win proposal. We're willing to acquire the Prescott Group in full, along with all shares of the Yasmin Design Academy, at a fifty percent premium. Mr. Prescott would receive a seat on the Locke Group's global board of directors, and Ms. White's academy would become a world-class design institution under our support."

Harrison's blue eyes gleamed with certainty. "This isn't an ordinary business acquisition. It's a grand merger. What we see is your future."

Yasmin stopped flipping through the document.

She looked up at Harrison and found the situation almost amusing.

Beneath all the flowery language, his message was brutally simple: I want what you have. Name your price. You should be honored.

Yasmin said nothing. She simply picked up her coffee and blew gently on the rising steam.

Theodore leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping absently on the table in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

He didn't even glance at the document. His gaze rested on Yasmin, carrying a subtle question.

Yasmin set down her cup and met his eyes with a small smile.

"Mr. Hughes," she began, voice gentle but clear, "my academy is like my child. I don't think any mother would be willing to put a price tag on her child."

The corner of Theodore's mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.

He turned his attention to Harrison. The warmth in those dark, unfathomable eyes disappeared completely.

"The Prescott Group is not for sale."

His voice wasn't raised. Just one sentence. But it landed like a stone dropped into still water.

Harrison's smile froze for a moment before he recovered.

"Mr. Prescott, I hope you understand that the Locke Group's patience is limited. Refusing our goodwill typically means facing certain unnecessary troubles." The threat in his words was no longer veiled.

"Is that so?" Theodore stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the bustling city below. "Ryan, show our guest out."

Harrison's expression finally changed.

He stood, straightened his expensive suit, eyes cold.

"You'll regret this, Mr. Prescott."

"I'll be waiting."

The door closed. Silence returned to the office.

Yasmin walked to Theodore's side and followed his gaze downward.

"Is the Locke Group that powerful?"

"Not powerful. Greedy." Theodore slipped his arm around her waist. "They're like sharks that smell blood. Once they've targeted prey, they won't stop until they've torn off a piece."

"So what do we do?"

"Meet force with force. Water with earth." Theodore lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry. The sky won't fall."

Yasmin leaned into him, listening to his steady, strong heartbeat. The unease in her chest gradually faded. She trusted him.

But the Locke Group's retaliation came faster and harder than they'd imagined.

Early the next morning, Ryan called, his voice more urgent than ever.

"Boss, we've got a problem! Our shipment of photovoltaic modules to Europe has been indefinitely detained by local customs for 'non-compliant environmental documentation.' That shipment is worth three hundred million, and it's tied to our long-term contract with Nordic Power!"

Theodore was feeding Sebastian breakfast. His hand paused. Sebastian missed the spoonful and made a noise of protest.

"Find out where the problem is." Theodore's voice was calm.

"We did! All the documents are compliant. They're deliberately causing trouble! I suspect—"

"I know." Theodore cut him off. "Activate the emergency protocol. Get legal involved. Also, audit all our overseas suppliers, especially anyone connected to Locke."

He hung up and continued feeding his son without missing a beat, as if the call had been nothing more than a casual greeting.

But Yasmin knew. The storm had arrived.

This was only the beginning.

Over the next seventy-two hours, bad news poured into Prescott Group headquarters from around the globe like a blizzard.

North America's largest distributor abruptly terminated their partnership and switched to a new company backed by the Locke Group.

A raw materials factory in Southeast Asia cited force majeure and halted supply, shutting down the Prescott Group's entire local production line.

Most damaging of all, several prominent short-selling firms on Wall Street simultaneously released negative reports on the Prescott Group, claiming its overseas operations were inflated and its cash flow on the verge of collapse.

Rumors spread like a virus through the capital markets.

The Prescott Group's stock price plummeted. In three days, nearly a hundred billion in market value evaporated.

Panic set in. Fear spread.

In the study at the Prescott Estate, smoke hung in the air.

Theodore stood before a massive world map. Red markers circled one "lost" territory after another.

Ryan walked in holding a stack of documents.

"Boss, this is the latest damage assessment. Overseas market share has dropped fifteen percent. At least seven major projects have been suspended. The funding gap—" He stopped. The numbers spoke for themselves.

"Go on." Theodore didn't turn around.

"Short-term, we need three hundred billion dollars in cash flow to stabilize the situation."

Three hundred billion.

Even for a giant like the Prescott Group, that wasn't money you could easily produce.

Worse, banks were being evasive. Major investors were sitting on the sidelines. Getting financing now would be nearly impossible.

This was the Locke Group's cruelest move. Cutting off the fuel supply.

"Understood." Theodore turned around, took the report from Ryan's hand, and fed it into the shredder without even looking.

Over the harsh grinding sound, he picked up the intercom on his desk.

"Notify all senior executives. Ten minutes. Conference room one. Highest-level emergency meeting."

There wasn't a trace of panic in his voice. Instead, it carried a kind of chilling calm.

Ryan watched Theodore's straight back and, for some reason, felt his anxiety settle.

He knew. The man who'd once unleashed chaos on Wall Street was getting serious.

The Locke Group thought they could bury the Prescott Group with money. Thought they could use capital to force this Eastern business titan to its knees.

They'd miscalculated one thing.

Theodore wasn't afraid of war.

The conference room was thick with tension.

Every department head sat rigidly, expressions grim.

Theodore entered. All eyes turned to him.

He didn't sit. He walked directly to the whiteboard behind the head of the table and picked up a black marker.

"From this moment, the group enters level-one combat readiness."