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 your

as if he was simply

on Violet's

wits. "But Mr. York, I know you're not short on cash, yet my studio is quite modest. It

cut her off, "This

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

I'm telling you what I want. Take the money, or don't-either way, I will have what I

Violet thought bitterly-He's no better

a bandit's way?

the money, and

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 your choice-celebratory champagne

having let Quinn know this was nothing

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