Chapter 227: The Price of Disrespect

Chapter 227: Chapter 227: The Price of Disrespect

By six in the evening, the sun had dipped beneath Veyra’s horizon, casting a deep indigo wash over the glass spires of the financial district. Inside the private dining room of the Zenith penthouse, the atmosphere was relaxed, a total contrast to the panic gripping the upper floors of the Newman tower across town. Soft jazz played from ambient speakers as the dining table filled with steaming platters of roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, and fresh rice.

Jake sat near the head of the table, serving himself a modest portion while Ryan and Martha settled in opposite each other. Aliya was already halfway through stacking her plate with extra garlic bread, humming happily to herself.

"Aliya, slow down," Martha said, eyeing her daughter’s towering plate with a raised eyebrow. "The bread isn’t going anywhere, and you haven’t even touched the greens."

"I need carbs, Mom," Aliya defended immediately, taking a massive bite of the garlic bread. "I spent three hours walking around the Galleria today carrying heavy shopping bags because someone didn’t want to hire a store courier until the very end." She shot a quick, pointed look across the table at Jake.

Jake didn’t even look up from his plate as he casually picked up a fork. "If you can’t carry two boutique bags without complaining about exhaustion, maybe you shouldn’t have bought anything."

"They were ’four’ bags, Jake. And one had three pairs of boots in it," Aliya countered, narrowing her eyes at him. "Besides, I don’t see you lugging anything heavier than a tablet all day."

"I lug the weight of keeping you in those boots," Jake replied smoothly, taking a quiet sip of water.

Aliya gasped, grabbing a soft dinner roll and threatening to hurl it across the table. "You arrogant little—"

"Aliya! Put that down!" Martha scolded sharply, though the corner of her lips twitched upward. "Jake, stop provoking your sister. Ryan, say something to your children."

Ryan didn’t even look up from carving his steak, taking a calm bite before chewing thoughtfully. "They’re over eighteen, Martha. If Aliya throws that roll and hits his suit, he’ll just bill her trust account for the dry cleaning."

"Dad!" Aliya whined, slumping back into her chair, though she ultimately set the roll back on her plate with a quiet huff.

Sitting beside Jake, Catharine Stone rested her chin on her hand, watching the back-and-forth with a gentle, lingering smile. She took a quiet sip of her wine, a faint touch of envy touching her chest. ’Must be nice,’ she thought to herself, watching how easily they teased each other without any underlying malice. ’In our household, a family dinner feels like waiting for a disaster to happen.’

Jake’s phone, resting face-down on the dark timber sideboard a few feet behind his chair, vibrated twice on silent mode. A single discrete notification light flashed blue.

Jake caught the glow out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t rush. He finished chewing, wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, and casually stood up from the table.

"Excuse me for a moment," Jake said smoothly. "I need to check a market update."

He walked over to the sideboard and picked up the secure device, stepping into his adjacent private study overlooking the balcony to read the screen.

The display showed a priority message from Alice, his chief executive assistant at Golden Investments:

[Mr. Rivers, Finn Newman has attempted to reach your personal line six times in the last forty minutes. Security at the Zenith tower lobby just flagged that Finn and Sam Newman are currently downstairs, requesting an unannounced audience.]

Jake stared at the text for a quiet moment. ’So Finn figured out who owned the G-Wagon, panicked, and hauled his brother straight here to beg,’ he thought, his jaw setting into a hard line. ’He actually thinks he can drop by my home on a Sunday night and sweep this under the rug with a quick apology.’

His dark eyes remained entirely cold as he tapped out a brief, measured response:

[Tell them I am unavailable for private calls on Sunday evening. Inform Finn that if he wishes to speak regarding Newman Enterprise, my office opens at eight tomorrow morning at Apex Plaza. They can wait.]

He locked the screen, placed the phone in his pocket, and walked back out to the dining room, seamlessly rejoining the family conversation.

---

The meal carried on for another hour at an easy pace. Around eight-thirty, Ryan checked his watch and set his napkin on the table.

"Well, as much as I’d love to stay and watch you two argue over dessert, your mother and I should get heading back," Ryan said, standing up and stretching his back. "The driver is already waiting downstairs."

Martha stood up as well, walking over to smooth down Aliya’s collar. "Make sure you pack your bag tonight, Aliya. You have that early morning law lecture tomorrow."

"I know, Mom," Aliya sighed, rolling her eyes affectionately as she hugged her mother. "My apartment is twenty minutes from campus anyway. I’ll head home in my car right after we finish wrapping up here."

’Her own apartment is much closer to the university than the Zenith,’ Catharine noted silently, remembering how Aliya preferred her quiet place near the east district when classes were in session. ’She just wanted an excuse to stay for dinner.’

After Ryan and Martha said their goodbyes and left with their security escort, Aliya helped Catharine clear the table before grabbing her leather jacket and keys from the counter.

"Alright, I’m heading out before Jake tries to lecture me about my driving," Aliya announced, tossing her keys in the air and catching them.

"Drive safely," Jake said from the sofa, not taking his eyes off his tablet screen. "And try to stay within the speed limit for once."

"You don’t have to tell me!" Aliya called back with a laugh, waving to Catharine before slipping out the heavy double doors of the penthouse.

---

At seven-forty the following morning, the sleek black Mercedes-Benz G 63 AMG armored edition glided smoothly into the underground executive parking bay of Apex Plaza.

Elias held the heavy rear door open as Jake stepped out, looking sharp in a bespoke charcoal suit. Accompanying him was Miller, while Alice walked a half-step behind, holding her tablet as they made their way toward the private executive elevator.

"Finn and Sam Newman have been in the forty-fourth-floor private waiting suite since seven-fifteen, Mr. Rivers," Alice reported as the elevator doors closed. "Finn looks visibly exhausted. He hasn’t touched the coffee or water security offered them."

Jake adjusted his cuffs, his posture relaxed. ’Let him stew,’ he reflected quietly, watching the floor numbers light up. ’A man who spends an hour staring at a wall in suspense is much easier to break.’

"Let them wait another ten minutes," Jake instructed plainly. "I’ll review the morning market briefs first."

At precisely eight o’clock, the frosted glass doors to Jake’s primary corner office slid open.

Jake walked in with a steady, unhurried stride, taking his seat behind the massive dark mahogany desk. Alice gestured to the two men standing near the threshold.

Finn Newman stepped inside first. The thirty-two-year-old corporate VP looked terrible—his tie was slightly askew, dark circles hung heavily under his eyes, and his hands were clenched tightly at his sides. Behind him stood Sam, looking pale and completely drained, his usual arrogance vanished entirely.

’Look at him,’ Sam thought bitterly, staring at Jake sitting behind the desk. ’He’s younger than me, and my brother is acting like we’re standing before a judge.’ Panic tightened in Sam’s throat as he kept his gaze glued to the floor.

"Mr. Rivers," Finn spoke, his voice hoarse as he bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for seeing us."

Jake didn’t stand up. He placed his hands flat on the polished desk, steepling his fingers, his eyes locking onto Finn with a calm, heavy focus.

"You’re early, Finn," Jake said smoothly. "I usually reserve my Monday mornings for internal portfolio strategy, not unannounced visits."

Finn swallowed hard, refusing to mince words. "I come on behalf of Newman Enterprise Group to offer our deepest apologies for my brother’s abhorrent behavior yesterday afternoon at the Central Galleria. Sam acted with unpardonable arrogance toward your mother, your sister, and Miss Stone."

Finn turned his head, casting a cold glare at his younger brother. "Sam. Speak."

Sam flinched, stepping forward with shaking hands. "M-Mr. Rivers... I was completely out of line. I didn’t know who... I mean, I shouldn’t have acted like that regardless. I am deeply, truly sorry for disrespecting your family. It will never happen again."

Jake didn’t answer right away. He let the silence stretch for a long, uncomfortable moment, watching Sam sweat under the pressure.

"A verbal apology from a spoiled child who only regrets his actions because he got caught," Jake said softly, leaning back in his leather chair. "Tell me, Finn... what is the Newman family actually offering to settle this disrespect?"

Finn took a deep breath, pulling a sleek leather document folder from his briefcase and setting it carefully on the desk.

"To demonstrate our good faith, Newman Enterprise is prepared to waive all logistics margins on Golden Investments’ steel shipments for the next two fiscal years," Finn stated firmly. "Furthermore, I have personally stripped Sam of all corporate titles, revoked his credit lines, and his transfer to our northern regional depot is finalized."

Jake glanced at the folder, then raised his gaze back to Finn. A cold, faint smile touched his lips.

"Is this a joke to you, Finn?" Jake asked, his tone dropping an octave, razor-sharp. "Or are you actively trying to insult me?"

Finn froze, a flash of genuine confusion crossing his face before panic set in. ’One hundred and twenty million marks in margin cuts...’ Finn thought frantically. ’That’s a massive hit to our logistics revenue. How is that an insult?’

"Mr. Rivers... that margin waiver represents nearly one hundred and twenty million marks in lost revenue for our logistics wing—"

"You think my mother, my sister, and my girlfriend are worth one hundred and twenty million marks in freight discounts?" Jake interrupted, his voice deathly quiet, though the intensity in the room spiked instantly.

Finn stood paralyzed, cold sweat breaking out across the back of his neck. It hit him like a physical blow—he had treated a personal threat against a top-tier family like a routine business dispute.

"What... what does Golden Investments require to consider this matter closed, Mr. Rivers?" Finn managed to ask, his voice strained.

"Ten percent," Jake said flatly. "A ten percent equity stake in Newman Enterprise Group. Transferred directly to Golden Investments Holdings by tomorrow evening."

The air was instantly sucked out of the room.

Finn’s eyes widened in absolute shock. "Ten... ten percent?!" he gasped, taking a step back. "Mr. Rivers, that’s... that is an impossible ask! Newman Enterprise is valued at forty billion marks! A ten percent equity transfer represents four billion marks in assets! You already hold five percent inherited from your grandfather! An additional ten percent would bring your total stake to fifteen percent! You would become the second-largest shareholder outside of our core family block! You would hold a mandatory seat on our executive board!"

’If he gets fifteen percent, he can block our board decisions,’ Finn realized, his mind racing wildly. ’Our father will lose his absolute majority control. The board will tear itself apart.’

"I can’t grant that on my own!" Finn stammered, his hands trembling. "A ten percent equity transfer requires full board approval and an emergency sign-off from my father, the Chairman! It dilutes our family’s primary control! It’s too much!"

Jake leaned back, looking at Finn with a cool, detached gaze.

"So you’re telling me," Jake said softly, "that protecting your brother’s neck and preserving your family’s standing isn’t worth four billion marks of a company that relies on my steel refineries to even stay operational?"

Finn opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was completely trapped. If he refused, Jake could pull Golden Investments’ supply contracts and crash their stock by sunset. If he agreed, his family would bleed a massive chunk of their corporate empire to a man who would now sit directly in their boardroom.

"I... I need time," Finn stammered, his face pale. "I have to call an emergency board meeting... I have to present this to my father..."

Jake picked up a sleek pen from his desk, tapping it once against his leather pad.

"You have until five o’clock tomorrow afternoon," Jake commanded, his voice cold and absolute. "If a signed equity transfer agreement is not on my desk by then, I will assume Newman Enterprise Group has chosen to stand behind Sam’s actions. And I will begin liquidating every asset, credit line, and contract tied to your family name before Wednesday morning."

Sam let out a faint, terrified whimper, clutching Finn’s arm.

Finn looked at Jake, realizing there was no room left for negotiation and no way out.

"Understood, Mr. Rivers," Finn whispered, bowing his head in total defeat. "You will have our board’s decision before the deadline."

Finn grabbed Sam by the shoulder, practically hauling his trembling younger brother out of the office. The frosted glass doors slid shut behind them, leaving the room in a quiet calm.

Alice stepped forward from the side wall, her tablet ready. "Should I notify legal to prepare the equity acquisition draft, Mr. Rivers?"

Jake looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the morning sun reflect off Veyra’s sprawling skyline.

"Draft the documents, Alice," Jake said smoothly, his tone cool and untroubled. "The Newmans are going to pay for every single word."

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