Violet took a deep breath and said, "Good morning, Mr. York."

Tyrone gestured towards a chair, signaling Violet to take a seat.

Once seated, Violet asked, "May I inquire why you've invited me here today?"

Tyrone glanced at James, who promptly stepped forward and placed a check in front of Violet.

Tyrone said, "Fill it out with any amount."

Violet was stunned. "What do you mean, Mr. York?"

"I want

his tone was cool and detached as if he was simply passing on a message to a subordinate-leaving

Violet's round and plump

wits. "But Mr. York, I know you're not short on cash, yet my studio is quite modest. It hardly seems worth your while. Besides, when I left my previous

her off, "This isn't

arguments. When you have money, you

your permission; I'm telling you what I want. Take the money, or

thought bitterly-He's

this just like a bandit's way? Flaunting wealth to

he has the money, and yes, he can bully

"Ms. Sullivan, I understand your concerns. You must worry that the corporate control would make your studio lose creative freedom in managing your artists. We can offer you complete autonomy. What the York Financial Group wants is your studio, firmly in our grasp. Name your price, because no matter what, the outcome will be the same. Of course, you can refuse." James' reminder was subtle, but the message was clear: Sell it, and you'd profit. If not, you'd lose everything either way. It's

let

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