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?"

indifferently, "I

yet his tone was cool and detached as if he was simply

registered on Violet's round

moment, Violet finally gathered her wits. "But Mr. York, I know you're not short on cash, yet my studio is

her off, "This isn't a

sentence, he silenced all of Violet's prepared arguments. When you have money,

not asking for your permission; I'm telling you what I want. Take the money, or don't-either way, I will have

bitterly-He's no

bandit's way? Flaunting wealth

inner voice whispered to Violet: Yes, he has the money, and yes, he can bully you because

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:

regretted not having let Quinn know this was nothing short

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