Chapter 193

Three days later.

A special video conference convened simultaneously across several time zones.

On one side, the Prescott Group's top decision-makers, led by Theodore.

On the other, over a dozen influential figures in international luxury goods and precision manufacturing.

The white-haired patriarch of an Italian leather dynasty. The owner of a top French fabric workshop. Even the chief technical officer of a century-old Swiss watchmaking company.

These were all people the Locke Group had long coveted but could never crack.

"Everyone," Yasmin began as the introducer, "I'm sure you've all heard about the Locke Group's recent actions. Today, I'm speaking not as Mrs. Prescott, but as a member of the Alliance, asking you to hear Mr. Prescott's proposal."

On screen, Theodore's face appeared on the main display.

He skipped pleasantries and shared a document directly to everyone's screens.

"This is a record of seven European companies the Locke Group destroyed over the past five years through hostile acquisitions, theft of trade secrets, and suppression of competitors. Three of them were former partners of yours."

The screen switched to detailed investigation reports with disturbingly complete chains of evidence.

"Their goal has never been win-win cooperation, but consumption and monopolization. Today they can use supply chain blockades against the Prescott Group. Tomorrow they can use the same tactics against any of you."

"My proposal today is simple."

Theodore's voice came through the connection, clear and powerful.

"Form a new supply chain collective. The Prescott Group is willing to open all our channels in emerging markets to share with you. We handle the markets, you handle production. Together, we bypass Locke and establish our own rules."

He paused, gaze sweeping across each varied expression on screen.

"As for the Locke Group... I think it's time this greedy guest paid the price for his arrogance."

No one responded immediately. The conference room fell silent.

After a long while, the Italian leather patriarch, Antonio, spoke slowly, voice aged but resonant.

"Yasmin is right. We revere craft, not capital. Companies like the Locke Group are parasites on our industry. Mr. Prescott, you have my support. I'm the first to join."

"Us as well." The French workshop owner followed.

"Sanction them!" A German machinery manufacturer was even more direct, his curse drawing quiet laughter.

One stone created a thousand ripples.

Over the following days, the global business world witnessed an unprecedented storm.

First, dozens of top European suppliers and designer brands jointly published an open letter in mainstream financial media like the Financial Times and Wall Street Journal, severely condemning the Locke Group's destruction of market rules and unfair competition practices, and announcing permanent termination of all cooperation.

The letter landed like a bomb, instantly igniting international public opinion.

Then more companies previously suppressed by the Locke Group came forward, providing even more shocking insider information and evidence.

The Locke Group's dirty deeds over the years were excavated one by one, laid bare in the sunlight.

"Business Empire or Mafia? Exposing the Locke Group's Rise!"

"Bloody Acquisitions: The Death Records of Seven Companies!"

"'Wall Street's Shame': Locke Group Faces Multinational Antitrust Investigations!"

Each headline more sensational than the last.

The Locke Group's stock price plummeted. Hundreds of billions in market value evaporated in a single day.

Partners terminated contracts en masse. Banks called in loans. Rating agencies downgraded credit ratings. The dominoes fell one after another.

The once-invincible business giant suddenly found itself besieged on all sides.

Harrison was overwhelmed. His boss in Belgium screamed over the phone, telling him to get lost.

They couldn't understand how a precision strike against the Prescott Group had turned into a global crusade burning them instead.

They'd calculated everything except one thing: human hearts.

They thought money could buy everything. They didn't know that some things—reputation, legacy, loyalty—money can't buy.

Meanwhile, at the Prescott Group, the scene was entirely different.

In the top-floor conference room, the previous gloom had lifted, replaced by barely suppressed excitement.

"Boss, latest numbers!" Ryan held a report, hands trembling slightly. "Our first batch of orders with the new European supply chain collective has shipped—mainly to Southeast Asia and the Middle East. Sales volume has already matched last year's total European market for the same period!"

"Not just that!" The head of Overseas Operations added. "By bypassing the Locke Group's channel monopoly, our profit margin is five percentage points higher than before! Plus, several Middle Eastern sovereign wealth funds have shown strong interest in our new energy projects and are sending people for site visits!"

Everyone had thought it was a desperate measure. Drinking poison to quench thirst.

Who could have imagined that in just two weeks, there'd be light at the end of the tunnel?

The new markets burst with vitality far exceeding expectations.

Not only had the Prescott Group not been dragged down, but through this crisis, they'd completed an optimization and upgrade of their industrial layout. Overall strength had actually increased.

The ten-billion-dollar hole left by the African Morningstar project was being rapidly filled in a way no one had anticipated.

Theodore listened to the reports, expression unchanged, just his knuckles tapping lightly on the table.

"Any news from Axel's side?" he suddenly asked.

The legal director immediately answered. "The Swiss court has accepted our lawsuit and, based on the evidence we provided, frozen all his assets in Swiss banks. Interpol has also issued a red notice. He can't escape."

Theodore nodded.

"Good."

The meeting ended. Executives filed out, faces showing post-crisis relief and anticipation for the future.

Ryan walked out last. Looking at Theodore's back, he suddenly felt that while the posture was as straight as that night, the feeling was completely different.

The office door opened and closed softly.

Theodore didn't turn around. He knew who it was.

Yasmin walked to his side, following his gaze outward.

"What are you thinking?"

"Thinking... how to repay the interest I owe you." Theodore turned to look at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Easy," Yasmin raised one finger solemnly. "Pay back the principal first. We can calculate the interest slowly."

Theodore said nothing. He just reached out and pulled her into his arms.

He lowered his head, lips against her ear, warm breath tickling.

"Repay the principal with my body. The interest... paid over a lifetime. Is that enough?"

The warm breath tickled her ear. Yasmin instinctively hunched her shoulders, but he only held her tighter.

"With your body?" She turned her face, trying to escape his embrace, meeting those dark eyes full of amusement. Her cheeks inexplicably warmed. "Mr. Prescott, your company just turned the corner and you're already playing hooligan?"

"Must treat creditors well." Theodore's tone was serious, but his arms showed no intention of releasing her.

His crisp cedarwood scent mixed with clean post-shower moisture, enveloping her completely. This scent was more reassuring than any expensive perfume.

"Depends on the debt." Yasmin pushed against his solid chest. It didn't budge. She gave up. "How do you calculate the interest?"

"A lifetime."

He lowered his head and kissed her lips.

One week later.

Locke Group headquarters.

On Harrison's desk sat an email from the Prescott Group's legal department.

The attachment was a draft settlement agreement.

The terms were harsh to the point of humiliation.

The Locke Group not only had to publicly apologize to the Prescott Group and admit all previous suppression tactics constituted unfair competition, but also compensate for all direct and indirect losses caused to the Prescott Group.

Most critically, the Locke Group had to promise permanent abandonment of any acquisitions, harassment, or malicious poaching of any company or designer within the European Alliance.

This wasn't a settlement. This was a treaty of surrender.

"Outrageous!" Harrison slammed the printed agreement onto his desk.

His assistant stood trembling nearby, not daring to breathe.

Who could have imagined that in just two weeks, the situation would reverse so dramatically?

The trap they'd laid had caught them instead.

Stock price collapse. Regulatory investigations. Mass contract terminations. The once-invincible financial beast was now riddled with holes.