The Useless Son-in-Law Is a Hidden Tycoon

Chapter 5: The Fall and the Takeover

The sharp sound of breaking glass echoed through the dining room.

Red wine pooled across the white marble floor, staining the tiles like fresh blood.

Helen stopped mid-laugh, her fork hovering in the air.

"Jasmine?" Helen asked, frowning as she looked across the room. "What is wrong with you? You just spilled a five-hundred-dollar bottle of wine!"

Jasmine did not answer her mother.

Her hands were shaking so violently that she could barely hold the phone against her ear.

"Say that again," Jasmine whispered, her voice barely audible.

"President Richards, it is true!" the chief financial officer shouted over the line, his voice filled with panic.

"City Central Bank just revoked our credit facility! They cited an immediate drop in our corporate risk rating. They are demanding full repayment of our twenty-million-dollar operational loan by four o'clock tomorrow afternoon!"

"Twenty million?" Jasmine gasped, her knees suddenly feeling weak. She grabbed the edge of a mahogany chair to steady herself.

"We do not have twenty million dollars in liquid cash! Our capital is tied up in raw material inventory!"

"Which is currently worthless because our primary supplier just froze our master account!" the officer replied desperately.

"If we cannot provide the twenty million dollars by tomorrow, the bank will freeze our corporate assets and begin insolvency proceedings!"

The phone slipped from Jasmine's fingers and landed on the soft carpet.

Paul Richards set his magazine down, his face instantly turning pale.

"Jasmine... what is happening?"

"Our bank," Jasmine stammered, tears of panic welling in her eyes.

"They canceled our credit line. They want twenty million dollars by tomorrow afternoon, or..." Her voice broke. "Or Richards Group goes bankrupt."

Helen let out a sharp, horrified gasp.

"Bankrupt? How is that possible? We were fine yesterday!"

Jasmine slowly turned her head toward Nikolai.

Nikolai sat at the head of the table, his hand frozen over his plate.

A sudden ray of hope flashed in Jasmine's eyes. She rushed toward him and grabbed his sleeve.

"Nikolai!" Jasmine pleaded, her voice trembling.

"You said your family has connections everywhere! Your father owns Vanguard Capital! Can you loan Richards Group twenty million dollars until we sort out this banking problem?"

Nikolai's smirk completely vanished.

He slowly pulled his arm away from her grip.

A cold sweat broke out across his forehead.

The truth was that Nikolai had no actual executive authority at Vanguard Capital. He was nothing more than a trust-fund playboy living on a strict monthly allowance from his demanding father.

He had promised Jasmine powerful partnerships and a luxurious future simply to win her over, assuming her company was financially secure enough to survive anything.

"Twenty million?" Nikolai laughed nervously, clearing his throat as he adjusted his tie.

"Jasmine, my love... that is a massive amount of money to arrange on such short notice. Corporate funds cannot simply be transferred overnight."

"You said your family could give me status and security!" Jasmine cried, her composure finally shattering. "Can you get the money or not?"

"I... I need to speak with my father first," Nikolai stammered, backing away from the table. "This isn't something I can authorize myself. Let me make a few calls outside."

Without waiting for her response, Nikolai quickly turned on his heel and rushed out the front door, practically running toward his sports car.

Helen watched Nikolai speed away into the night, her jaw hanging open.

"He... he is going to help us, right?" Helen asked, her loud, arrogant voice now filled with terror. "He is a rich heir! He has to help us!"

Jasmine stood in the silent dining room, staring at the empty doorway.

For the first time in three years, an overwhelming feeling of dread washed over her.

Whenever her company had faced a crisis in the past, she would come home to a quiet house, a warm meal, and Aren sitting in his wheelchair, gently assuring her that everything would work out.

And somehow, every single crisis had always resolved itself within forty-eight hours.

Now, Aren was gone.

For the first time, Jasmine had to face the consequences without him.

The next morning at eight o'clock, a sleek black limousine pulled up to the glass entrance of Starburst Tech headquarters.

The company's courtyard was in total chaos.

Reporters, angry creditors, and frantic employees crowded around the main entrance.

Starburst Tech had once been one of the city's top technology firms, but after its CEO embezzled millions and fled the country, the company had spiraled into insolvency.

Its stock had collapsed, and its market value had plunged to a fraction of what it had once been worth.

The board of directors was now holding an emergency meeting to decide whether to liquidate the remaining assets.

The rear door of the black sedan opened.

Xavier stepped out in a tailored suit and quickly unfolded Aren's wheelchair.

He helped Aren transfer smoothly into the seat.

Aren wore a crisp, tailored charcoal suit. His dark hair was styled back, and his dark eyes were cold, sharp, and commanding.

As Xavier pushed the wheelchair toward the corporate entrance, two security guards stepped forward to block their path.

"Hold on!" one of the guards barked. "The building is closed! No visitors are allowed during board meetings!"

Xavier stepped in front of the wheelchair and pulled a thick leather folder from his jacket.

"Stand aside," Xavier commanded in a deep, authoritative voice. "You are speaking to Aren Greyson, the new majority shareholder of Starburst Tech."

The guard glanced at the legal documents inside the folder.

His eyes widened when he saw the official stamp of the city stock exchange.

Sixty percent of Starburst Tech's outstanding shares had been acquired in cash at precisely seven-thirty that morning.

"M-Majority shareholder?" the guard stammered, stepping back instantly. "Right this way, sir!"

The grand glass doors opened, and Aren rolled smoothly into the marble lobby.

Inside the top-floor boardroom, twelve board members were shouting at one another around a long oak table.

"We have to sell the patents!" one director yelled, slamming his fist on the table. "We owe forty million dollars to our creditors! If we do not liquidate today, we will all go to prison!"

"Nobody is buying our patents!" another director shouted back. "We are completely ruined!"

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open.

The entire room fell silent.

Aren rolled his wheelchair into the center of the boardroom, his hands resting calmly on his lap. Xavier followed silently behind him, carrying a silver briefcase.

The interim chairman of the board, an older man named Dwight, slammed his hands onto the table.

"Who let this cripple into our executive meeting?" Dwight roared, pointing a shaking finger at Aren. "Security! Drag this man out of here immediately!"

Aren did not blink.

He looked up at Dwight, his voice quiet and steady, carrying an unmistakable authority through the silent room.

"Sit down, Dwight," Aren said softly.

He paused for a moment.

"I own this company now."