10x Cashback: Your Wealth Is Mine-Chapter 116: A Deal for the Media Crown

The room was silent as they all took a moment to absorb my words.

You’d think this would be the final blow, right? Nope. It’s not. As always, there’s one person who’ll ruin the vibe.

James Reed.

"Let’s cut to the chase." He said, like he had some kind of grudge against me. "What’s the price?"

Now, here’s my place to shine. There’s a balance to these things. You have to offer something substantial but not too much.

If you offer too little, you’ll be instantly rejected. If you offer too much, they’ll be put off, thinking you have an ulterior motive. And if you offer exactly what it’s worth, they have no reason to sell to you.

You have to offer more than it’s worth but not too much. Like I said, it’s 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 Sentinel’s 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 wasn’t about to pull some shit that will allow them call off this deal.

"That’s a generous offer." Eleanor Reed said, nodding to herself.

"It’s a fair offer." I corrected her gently. "An offer that reflects The Sentinel’s legacy while ensuring its future."

"But there’s just one issue." Eleanor leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on me, scrutinizing me. "You’re a billionaire."

I blinked in confusion. Yes, I’m a billionaire. How is that an issue? Even if it was an issue, it’s not like it’s an issue that can just go away. I definitely won’t stop being a billionaire just because I wanted to buy a media outfit.

"I don’t follow." I said in confusion.

Eleanor stared at me for a moment before speaking. "What guarantees do we have that you won’t turn this into another corporate mouthpiece?" She asked. "The Sentinel has always and will always be independent."

"That’s precisely why I want this partnership." I replied, thinking fast. If this was the issue, it can easily be solved by what I’d explained earlier.

I just need to spin the perfect web of lies and stories. You know, corporate stuff.

If you can’t do shit like this while coating everything you say in some kind of business mumbo jumbo, you won’t 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 I’m lying? Try it at your own time.

"My role here isn’t 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, I’d start one from scratch." That’s a total lie. "But I want The Sentinel because it’s The Sentinel." That one’s true.

I leaned back in my chair.

"I could’ve 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."

That’s how negotiations are. Show too much eagerness and they’d smell blood in the water. Show too little and they’d think you don’t care.

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.

[][][][][]

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 won’t, though. That was the best thing he loved about his relationship with his grandmother. Whatever happened, she wasn’t 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 city’s 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.

James’s heart was beating fast in excitement but he couldn’t let it show. This was his chance to convince her. To make her see what needed to be done.

They didn’t 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."

He’d put up a skeptical front but it was necessary. He needed to confirm the things he’d 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 we’re running out of options. The Sentinel isn’t what it used to be. The ad revenue is drying up and our digital transition hasn’t been fast enough."

"Let’s face it." He finally said the words he’d been holding back for a long time now. "We’re dying."

His grandmother remained silent, only listening.

"The only thing we have going for us is our respected staff members." He said. "But they’re respected by their peers. Our customers couldn’t 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 don’t act now, if we don’t 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. That’s what your grandfather built."

"And it’s what we’ve been fighting to keep alive." James countered. He knew this song and dance like the back of his hands.

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"But ideals don’t pay the bills, Grandma. We’re 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 isn’t just about money, James. Once we sell, we lose control."

Then she finally revealed her fear. "What’s to stop Voss from turning The Sentinel into another corporate propaganda machine?"

James sighed before stepping closer to her. "That’s why we’re in a position to negotiate right now. He’s not coming in with a hostile takeover. He’s 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 won’t have that choice."

"We’ll be forced to sell to someone who doesn’t care about The Sentinel’s legacy or worse, we’ll 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 he’s 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, he’s our best option."

"He’s not your cutthroat businessman chasing after money. He’s a businessman who built his Imperium Holdings on the idea of building legacies."

"I’ve done my research. This guy isn’t 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 it’s not what you wanted but it’s what we need." He consoled her.

"This way, we can make sure that The Sentinel survives. Not just for us but for the people who’ve trusted it for generations. Isn’t 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 hadn’t done his homework.

Finally, she nodded. Her resignation finally changed to determination.

"All right." She said. "We’ll 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 won’t regret this."

She raised a hand, silencing him. "Don’t 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 let’s not keep Mr. Voss waiting."