Chapter 116: A Deal for the Media Crown
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The room was silent as they all took a moment to absorb my words.
Youâd think this would be the final blow, right? Nope. Itâs not. As always, thereâs one person whoâll ruin the vibe.
James Reed.
"Letâs cut to the chase." He said, like he had some kind of grudge against me. "Whatâs the price?"
Now, hereâs my place to shine. Thereâs a balance to these things. You have to offer something substantial but not too much.
If you offer too little, youâll be instantly rejected. If you offer too much, theyâll be put off, thinking you have an ulterior motive. And if you offer exactly what itâs worth, they have no reason to sell to you.
You have to offer more than itâs worth but not too much. Like I said, itâs a balance.
I smiled at the guys at the other side of the table.
"Two hundred and fifty million dollars for the majority stake with an additional fifty million earmarked for immediate investments into The Sentinelâs operations."
At that moment, I could tell exactly what the people were thinking based on their expressions.
Everyone else was interested but James? He was frowning. I sincerely hope he wasnât about to pull some shit that will allow them call off this deal.
"Thatâs a generous offer." Eleanor Reed said, nodding to herself.
"Itâs a fair offer." I corrected her gently. "An offer that reflects The Sentinelâs legacy while ensuring its future."
"But thereâs just one issue." Eleanor leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on me, scrutinizing me. "Youâre a billionaire."
I blinked in confusion. Yes, Iâm a billionaire. How is that an issue? Even if it was an issue, itâs not like itâs an issue that can just go away. I definitely wonât stop being a billionaire just because I wanted to buy a media outfit.
"I donât follow." I said in confusion.
Eleanor stared at me for a moment before speaking. "What guarantees do we have that you wonât turn this into another corporate mouthpiece?" She asked. "The Sentinel has always and will always be independent."
"Thatâs precisely why I want this partnership." I replied, thinking fast. If this was the issue, it can easily be solved by what Iâd explained earlier.
I just need to spin the perfect web of lies and stories. You know, corporate stuff.
If you canât do shit like this while coating everything you say in some kind of business mumbo jumbo, you wonât survive in the corporate world.
"Your independence is what makes The Sentinel valuable." I said with conviction, looking the people in front of me in the eye.
People believe you more if you look them in the eye with conviction. You think Iâm lying? Try it at your own time.
"My role here isnât to dictate your editorial direction." I paused, holding their attention. "My role here is to provide the tools and resources you need to thrive."
"If I wanted a corporate mouthpiece, Iâd start one from scratch." Thatâs a total lie. "But I want The Sentinel because itâs The Sentinel." That oneâs true.
I leaned back in my chair.
"I couldâve spent my money throwing parties on private islands but no. I want to help. However, I can only do that if you want it. And so, the ball is in your court."
Thatâs how negotiations are. Show too much eagerness and theyâd smell blood in the water. Show too little and theyâd think you donât care.@@novelbin@@
There are too many unwritten rules to follow and everyone has different rules books.
The Reed contingent, Eleanor and James finally excused themselves to confer privately.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. Whatever happens after this is right out of my hands.
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James closed the door behind him as they entered the conference room.
They were far enough from the one the negotiations were taking place to speak as loud as they wanted.
But they wonât, though. That was the best thing he loved about his relationship with his grandmother. Whatever happened, she wasnât quick to raise her voice.
He turned to face her as she walked to the window looking over the street below. Unlike the media giants, their building was not that tall to be overlooking the cityâs skyline.
Neither was it in one of those prime real estate locations where expensive cars zoomed by every minute.
He put his hands inside his pockets, watching her and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
She clasped her hands behind her back as she watched the people going by their day, something she liked doing.
Jamesâs heart was beating fast in excitement but he couldnât let it show. This was his chance to convince her. To make her see what needed to be done.
They didnât have the luxury of time anymore.
"Well?" She finally asked, turning back to look him in the eyes. "What do you think?"
James hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I think Nico Voss makes a strong case."
Heâd put up a skeptical front but it was necessary. He needed to confirm the things heâd learnt.
He kept his expression neutral as his grandmother narrowed her eyes at him, scrutinizing him. "And you think I should sell? Just like that?"
James sighed, stepping closer to the table. He pulled out a chair and gestured to it for her to take a seat. It was more to steady his nerves than anything and she knew it.
She eyed him before letting it go and taking a seat.
"Grandma," he exhaled, "you know as well as I do that weâre running out of options. The Sentinel isnât what it used to be. The ad revenue is drying up and our digital transition hasnât been fast enough."
"Letâs face it." He finally said the words heâd been holding back for a long time now. "Weâre dying."
His grandmother remained silent, only listening.
"The only thing we have going for us is our respected staff members." He said. "But theyâre respected by their peers. Our customers couldnât give two shits about who they are."
"Language." His grandmother chided and he sighed.
"I know how much this company means to you." He said, his tone softening. "It means just as much to me."
"But if we donât act now, if we donât bring in someone with the resources to save it, there might not be anything left to preserve."
His grandmother looked away, her lips tightened into a thin line. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she turned to him.
"You think selling the majority stake to a billionaire with no ties to journalism is the answer?"
She stood from the chair.
"What happens to our independence? Our integrity? The Sentinel has stood for truth and accountability for decades. Thatâs what your grandfather built."
"And itâs what weâve been fighting to keep alive." James countered. He knew this song and dance like the back of his hands.
"But ideals donât pay the bills, Grandma. Weâre hemorrhaging money. Do you really think those ideals will matter if we have to shut down entirely?"
She turned back to the window, her shoulders tense. "This isnât just about money, James. Once we sell, we lose control."
Then she finally revealed her fear. "Whatâs to stop Voss from turning The Sentinel into another corporate propaganda machine?"
James sighed before stepping closer to her. "Thatâs why weâre in a position to negotiate right now. Heâs not coming in with a hostile takeover. Heâs offering us a partnership. One where we still have a say, where we still have seats at the table."
He paused for a moment before laying out what was on the other side of this deal. "But if we wait any longer, if things keep going the way they are, we wonât have that choice."
"Weâll be forced to sell to someone who doesnât care about The Sentinelâs legacy or worse, weâll go bankrupt. At least with Voss, we can protect what matters most."
He watched as her shoulders sagged ever so slightly. It was rare to see her show any sign of weakness but he could tell she was considering his words carefully.
"What if heâs lying?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if all his talk about preserving our legacy is just that, talk?"
James took a deep breath. "Then we hold him accountable. We make sure the terms of the deal protect us. But Grandma, heâs our best option."
"Heâs not your cutthroat businessman chasing after money. Heâs a businessman who built his Imperium Holdings on the idea of building legacies."
"Iâve done my research. This guy isnât here to gut The Sentinel. He sees its value. He wants to amplify it."
His grandmother finally turned to face him fully, resignation on her face. "And you truly believe this is the best option for us?"
"I do." James nodded. "I know itâs not what you wanted but itâs what we need." He consoled her.
"This way, we can make sure that The Sentinel survives. Not just for us but for the people whoâve trusted it for generations. Isnât that worth the sacrifice?"
His grandmother, Eleanor Reed, studied him for a long moment with those eyes that sometimes made him feel like a school boy who hadnât done his homework.
Finally, she nodded. Her resignation finally changed to determination.
"All right." She said. "Weâll take the deal. But on our terms."
James nearly sat down in Relief but managed to keep his composure. Like his grandma always says, keep your calm wherever you are.
"Thank you, Grandma." He smiled at her. "I promise you wonât regret this."
She raised a hand, silencing him. "Donât thank me yet, James. If this goes wrong, the responsibility will rest squarely on your shoulders."
"I understand." He said, nodding in agreement. "But I believe this is the right move."
His grandma nodded, turning toward the door and straightening her blazer. "Then letâs not keep Mr. Voss waiting."
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