Dominate Showbiz: Media Tycoon Discovered My Talent-Chapter 115: Generous Offer

She shot him a flat, bored look. "Uh... yeah? I’ve been waiting forever for you to finally get to the point."

"Very well," he said brightly, though his brow was faintly twitching. "You see, you have a kind of access to my brother that I’ve never seen any other woman possess, since his very first girlfriend.

"I have an offer for you, Ms. Sepala. Work for me. Become my eyes and ears. Report every decision, every small move my brother makes, whether within KE, any other company under the Kosonen Group, or even something as trivial as how many meetings he attends in a day.

"In return, I’ll make sure you’re compensated far beyond anything an album or tour could ever earn you as an artist under KE, or any other worthless entertainment company you might sign with in the future.

"In fact, you’ll be compensated so generously that you could enjoy an early retirement, never having to worry about making a living once your beauty fades, and your short-lived singing career inevitably comes to an end, just like every other female artist out there."

Kaija fell quiet, blinking slowly at Max’s lengthy speech.

To him, it looked as though she was finally giving his words serious consideration.

Unbeknownst to him, she was mostly suppressing an inward yawn.

"So," she said at last, "you’re basically asking me to sell Charles Kosonen out."

"I’m glad we’re finally on the same page, Ms. Sepala," he replied smoothly.

"Cool," she nodded faintly. "But I’m afraid you’re not even holding the book properly, Mr. Kosonen. First of all, I am not Charles Kosonen’s girlfriend, if that’s what you believe our relationship is.

"Secondly, your younger brother could read me like an open book. I guarantee it. You want me to spy on him? That would be your worst mistake in this little game of thrones you’re playing.

"Charles Kosonen could tell I’m lying within seconds, let alone if I tried prying into his schedule or decisions. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience.

"And last but not least, no matter how much you resemble my boss, Mr. Kosonen, I don’t like you at all. I didn’t like the way you spoke to my instructor Antony yesterday, and I especially dislike the rude way you forced me into this little meeting.

"My friend didn’t even get to finish his favorite boba tea because we had to run from the stalker you planted on us the moment we left campus. And that, Mr. Kosonen, is a deal breaker right from the start. So I’m afraid I’ll have to respectfully decline your very generous offer."

Across from her, Max sat completely stunned.

Shock stretched across his face, before his features twisted into pure displeasure.

In one swift motion, he rose from the couch and leaned over the table between them, his hand shooting straight toward her face.

Smack!

A sharp slap landed against her cheek, snapping her head to the side.

The two men standing by the door shifted subtly. They knew exactly what was coming, judging by the enraged look on their boss’s face.

"What a shame, Ms. Sepala," Max growled. "You’re the most gorgeous I’ve seen, and I’ve been very patient with you. But it seems you need a lesson in how to behave.

"Have you spent so much time pleasing my brother in bed that you’ve picked up his insolent tone? How dare you speak to me like that, let alone decline my offer?"

"Ouchie." Kaija brought a hand to her cheek, the sting still burning.

Had she really started sounding like Charles now? Two times and a half couldn’t possibly be counted as so much time.

"Man, that was a really hard slap, mister," she muttered, straightening her head. "But for a tall, muscular guy like you, the force behind your slap felt... about the same as my mom’s. That’s kind of strange."

Max’s contorted face twisted even further. "What did you just say?"

"One question," she said, lifting her free hand. "Did you behave this violently toward your younger half-brother too? The one who also happens to be my instructor?"

Max’s brow knitted together, silver eyes narrowing. "You... you know?"

"Well, not that I wanted to." Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug.

Then her gaze sharpened into blades, contempt dripping from her voice. "But you must have done something truly, horrendously awful to my precious instructor-slash-producer. And that only gives me even more reasons to despise you and your entire existence, Mr. Kosonen."

This time, the man didn’t merely lean over the table. He stormed around it straight toward her couch, grabbed her by the neck, and hauled her to her feet.

"Would you like to find out for yourself all the things I did to that pathetic bastard?" he sneered, silver eyes flashing coldly as his fingers dug deeper into her skin. "When you do, I’m afraid you won’t even be able to sing or dance with that pretty body of yours anymore, let alone speak to me in that insolent tone."

Her features tightened under the crushing grip around her throat, ragged coughs and gasps tearing free from her lungs.

"Ha... so you’re finally showing your true colors now, Max Kosonen," she sneered back through the pain. "No matter what you do to me, it won’t change the fact that the most pathetic bastard here is you, not Antony."

Smack!

With another sharp slap, his menacing fingers released her throat.

Kaija fell back onto the couch, coughing violently, both hands clutching her neck.

Before she could fully catch her breath, Max’s voice came from above her, cold and dripping with wicked intent.

"What a disappointment," he said. "I planned to invite you here as an honored guest, treat you to a nice drink, whisper sweet nothings, maybe enjoy ourselves a little, before sealing this mutually beneficial deal.

"I intended to compensate you handsomely, buy you the most dazzling jewelry, take you to the finest places this city has to offer, Ms. Sepala. But look at you, and how narrow-minded you are.

"You dare compare that filthy stray to me? Dare to say I’m lesser than him?"

His lips curled. "A reckless woman like you needs far more than a simple lesson. You need to be broken. Thoroughly broken, before you learn how to behave.

"And oh, trust me, Ms. Sepala, there’s nothing I enjoy more than breaking my little brother’s precious toys and watching him drop to his knees, crying like the pathetic loser he is."

Then he turned sharply toward the two guards by the door.

"Gentlemen," he said coolly, "let’s proceed with plan B."

The two guards moved toward the couch at Max’s command.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," her head snapped up before they could reach her. "What exactly does plan B entail again?"

Max’s mouth curled into a deeper, devilish smile. "If I tell you now, there won’t be any fun left in it. You’ll find out soon enough."

At his signal, one guard pulled a small syringe from the inner pocket of his jacket. The slim barrel was already filled with a blue liquid, its long, sharp needle capped.

Her eyes narrowed in pure disdain. "You’re going to fucking drug me?"

"Of course I am," Max replied cheerfully. "Given how defiant you are, I’m afraid knocking you out for a short while is the only way to get you out of here without drawing unnecessary attention.

"But don’t worry, it’ll only put you under for about an hour. You’ll wake up just in time to fully experience the special treatment I’ve prepared for you."

Dark lines etched her expression. She’d suspected the man was sick, she just hadn’t imagined he was this twisted.

And where the hell had Juho disappeared into? If he was going to help, wasn’t this the perfect moment for him to just drop in and save the day?

"Let’s not make this any more unpleasant than it has to be, miss," the man with the syringe said, smirking as he removed the cap. "The more you struggle, the more the needle will tear your flesh. The scar won’t look pretty on you."

"Yo, hold on a minute," she said, raising a hand. "Where exactly are you planning to stick that shit into me, mister?"

"Your upper arm, of course," he replied easily. "It’ll feel just like a flu shot. Now take off your coat, before we do it for you."

She folded her arms firmly across her chest, her expression flat with boredom. "Look," she said calmly, "there’s no way I’m letting you jab my upper arm with that thick, pointy metal thing.

"You’re obviously not a medical professional, and you’ll definitely leave a scar. And if there’s a scar, how am I supposed to wear tank tops or dresses, huh?

"I’m a singer. A stage performer. Have some decency."

By now, all patience had drained from Max’s face.

"Then what do you suggest, Ms. Sepala?" he snapped, his features twisting. "May I remind you that you’re in no position to be picky?"

"How ungentlemanly," she replied coolly, rolling her eyes. "My thigh, obviously. Where else?"

She leaned back against the couch, crossing one leg over the other and hitching her skirt higher.

"Aim for this muscle right here," she instructed, pointing to her bare skin. "As high up as possible, please. Otherwise it’ll still show when I wear shorts, or a super short mini skirt."

Then her tone sharpened. "And make sure you jab it straight, quick, and as painless as possible, or I’ll scream loud enough for the whole place to hear how you couldn’t even drug a helpless girl properly, mister."