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Pushing His Buttons

Doran eyed him with ire but couldn't get a reading on this enigma of a man in front of him.

"Why is Kincaid International so interested in buying shares of my company? We are rivals after all," Doran stated, leaning forward and placing his clasped hands on the cold marble table. His attention fixated on Zyair.

A small sneer occupied Zyair's face under the mask. This would be an interesting confrontation. His eyes remained focused on Doran's scrutinising one.

"What's the fun if there is no one to challenge you? Kincaid International believes in healthy competition and extending a helping hand when a fellow company is in dire need," his calm voice played on the undertone of sarcasm.

Montague Kincaid watched the proceedings quietly, knowing he had trained Zyair well, and imparted all the knowledge he possessed.

"Who says we need help? Assumptions don't suit a man of your calibre," no way was Doran going to reveal their company was experiencing a downturn. This made Zyair derisively scoff.

"Let's not kid each other. Everyone in this room knows that your company shares are at their lowest. This only happens when a company is going through a loss. Because I highly doubt a man of your stature will stoop so low to engage in stock manipulation."

Doran's hands clenched tighter as a vein in his temple pulsed and he reminded himself to keep his emotions in check. Caleb shifted uneasily right next to him. It was no secret that their company had been going downhill for a while now, it had become more apparent now.

"What are you trying to say? Mr. Zyair. Be specific." The tempest Zyair had successfully brewed inside him wouldn't subside so easily.

The man with the mask leaned back in his chair, relaxed and unperturbed as he laid down his offer. Lawrence stood behind him, noting and documenting everything on his work tablet.

"We would like to buy 40 per cent of B-Couture's shares. Take it as a capital injection for the company's needs and various business operations. All we need in return is the profit share. It's a win-win."

Zyair's offer toppled Doran over the edge and he abruptly stood up, balling his fists. His lips hiked up in a sneer.

"Are you in your senses? 40 per cent? That's like including you in all of our decision-making. This company is mine, I will not grant you any leeway."

Zyair's calculated eyes took all of his reactions in. It wasn't that difficult to rile Doran up, he concluded. Under that false facade of calmness rested an active volcano, ready to erupt. With this newfound shade of truth, Zyair realised he would have fun playing with this one.

"Mr Doran, let's sit and talk. There is no need to shout. My son is offering you an easy way out of the conundrum your company has landed itself in. Any other company will not be that benevolent. There are chances of a hostile takeover if any company gets their hands on more than 50 per cent of your shares. They have fallen too low. We are offering you an easy way out."

Monague Kincaid tried to be the voice of reason.

Doran knew whatever they were saying was true. His company has been crumbling for years now and now it has reached its saturation point.

"I can manage my own company, I don't need dictation from some senile old man," Doran turned his icy gaze towards Montague.

He had always believed that Kincaid International would fall after the death of Montague Kincaid since he had no heir. Doran always wanted to bid on it. But in the past few years, the emergence of this masked man had taken it to new soaring heights and tables had been turned on him.

"That last statement has made me change my mind. I will be buying 60 per cent of the shares, a seat at the decision-making table and be part of overall governance. No one insults my father and walks away," Zyair declared with finality, the unspoken distaste on his face couldn't be seen and yet it was etched on it as he cast a long and pointed look at the man sitting right in front of him.

It was Doran's turn to hollow out a sinister laugh as he questioned.

"And you believe I will do this? To let anyone just come and sweep over my company?" the twisted sense of superiority he always carried occasionally was out on full display.

"No one is taking over your company. If you could think. I can only wish you to make the correct decision in the end. I will have my lawyers draw up the contract and send it your way. A mutual partnership between the two brands will only benefit us. Can't you see the doors of endless possibilities I am offering you?"

And there he dangled the bait, all Doran needed to do was take it. He was still seething from anger so his friend and partner took matters into his own hands.

"We can't make any decision on the spur of the moment. Such decisions need critical thinking and all angles need to be checked. Give us some time to consider your offer and let us weigh out our options."

"Of course, take your time. I am giving you two months to consider it. Weigh out your options I can guarantee no one else will offer you what I am doing." mischief replaced the slight hints of anger in his deep oceanic eyes.

Doran pinned him with a menacing glare which Zyair returned while leisurely leaning back in his chair.

Montague cleared his throat to lessen the pent-up tension in the room while Lawrence clicked the tablet shut too lost in the heated discussion.

With one last loathing stare, Doran walked out of the conference room with a very apologetic-looking Caleb hot on his heels.

As the heavy glass door swung close behind them Montague sighed in relief.

"That went well. You pushed all his buttons."

Zyair slowly turned his head towards his father and casually added.

"It's just the beginning."

Don't forget to send power stones and Golden Tickets. Thank you.

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