ICQ's press conference was timely and handled with decisive resolve.
Visger's firm assurances did restore many investors' confidence, finally easing the nosediving stock price.
Yet... even so, within just a few short hours, ICQ's market value had already shed a staggering $220 million.
A year ago, Visger and the rest of ICQ's executives and shareholders would have shrugged it off; after all, it was only paper wealth, and market capitalization would bounce back sooner or later.
A $220 million loss in market cap—so what?
Tack on another hundred or two hundred million and it still wouldn't be a big deal for a behemoth like ICQ.
But times had changed.
Microsoft's MSN, aggressive and relentless, leveraged the Windows monopoly to force-install itself worldwide, steadily seizing share from ICQ in the instant-messaging arena.
In the midst of this crisis, a $220 billion market-cap loss was no trifling matter.
The incident might not cripple ICQ, but it certainly poured salt on its wounds.
'Visger, don't forget—you are ICQ's chairman. You don't represent yourself; you represent the entire company. You bear primary responsibility for this loss, and I will move to impeach you at the board meeting,' Vadi said coldly.
A co-founder of ICQ, Vadi had coveted the CEO seat for the longest time.
Visger's mistake secretly delighted him, massive damages or not.
Visger nodded heavily. 'Understood.'
Vadi continued, 'And you must distance yourself from that loudmouth Steve Bing. This time Mr. Page held back only out of old regard for ICQ; he let us off lightly. Otherwise we'd never have walked away so easily.'
Steve Bing?
The mere mention of that trust-fund playboy made Visger's blood boil.
The very definition of a pig teammate—
that was Steve Bing!
If not for Bing's big mouth offending Kyle Page, would Visger—ICQ's chairman—have been ridiculed and targeted by shareholders and executives alike?
A total humiliation!
...Early that evening,
in a Los Angeles café,
Visger arrived ahead of time, ordered a lone cup of coffee, and gazed quietly out the window, lost in thoughts no one could fathom.
'Boss, Mr. Steve Bing is here,'
an assistant reminded him.
Visger came back to himself.'Show him in.'
'Yes, boss.'
Moments later Steve Bing strode in, radiating confidence.
The moment he spotted Visger, Bing burst into laughter.
'Visger, my good friend—did you see the headlines this morning? I gave that punk a real black eye! Hmph! What is Kyle Page but a lucky dog? Without your ICQ making him rich, he'd be nothing, certainly not worth ten billion bucks.'
Steve bragged on.
He was deeply jealous of Kyle.
Leaving aside the ten-billion Fortune, every film Kyle touched seemed to turn to gold—something that galled Steve no end.
Back in the eighties, at just eighteen, Steve had inherited a cool $600 million from his grandfather, making countless people green with envy. Since then he'd poured millions into movies—over $150 million in more than a decade.
And the result?
Apart from the occasional hit, he'd lost it all!
His psyche was shattered!
'Heh!'
After ordering coffee, Steve preened, 'Now every paper in America is running the story. Let's see how that ingrate survives in the U.S. Even if it doesn't dent his wallet, his face is thoroughly smeared.'
He paused. 'Visger, as a friend, I've really gone all out for you, haven't I?'
Go to hell!
At that moment, even Visger, who always kept his cool, nearly lost it and slugged the idiot in front of him.
His assistant, standing nearby, couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching.
"You call Kyle Page the lucky one? Steve Bing, you're the luckiest bastard alive. At eighteen you inherited six hundred million from your granddad—how many people on earth can top that? You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth; without it you're nothing but a loser."
Visger's assistant had slipped into full-on rant mode.
Of course, he only dared say it in his head.
A loser?
Facts would prove the assistant right.
In the future—2020, to be exact—Bing would blow the entire six hundred million: mansions, planes, yachts, art, the lot.
He dated more starlets than anyone could count.
Rumors of secret children swirled everywhere.
He fell out with his parents and tore into his own sister in court.
Even the fiancée of Kirk Kerkorian—the casino titan who built Las Vegas, once owned MGM Hotels and the old MGM studio, the man they called the Gambling King—was impregnated by Steve Bing.
The eighty-something Gambling King had to play daddy again!
His reputation was shredded.
Dogged by scandal and debt, the spendthrift ended up penniless and jumped from a hotel roof, closing the book on his absurd life.
"Visger, my best mate, a new club just opened on Ninth Street in L.A.—let me show you tonight," Steve said.
Party?
"Hmph!"
Visger dropped all pretense. "Steve Bing, have you seen the headlines? Because of your big mouth my ICQ Company just lost two hundred and twenty million in market cap on NASDAQ. Did you know that?"
"I…!"
Even a playboy like Steve understood what wiping two-hundred-plus million off ICQ's valuation meant in its current straits.
"Oh no!"
"Sorry, I only wanted to stand up for you—I didn't think—"
He couldn't finish.
Damage that huge can't be undone with a few words.
Suddenly Steve's eyes lit up with rage. "Visger, is that bastard Kyle Page behind this? I knew it. Don't worry, I'll get even—right now!"
He shot to his feet, ready to storm off and confront Kyle.
"Enough!"
Visger's fury hovered on the brink of eruption.
"Haven't you caused enough trouble? You think Page's someone to trifle with? This time he didn't even flex Golden Dawn Entertainment Group's media muscle—it was just a warning. Provoke him again and you'll bury ICQ and me for good!"
Steve's pupils shrank.
Now he was angry too.
I'm your best friend—how can you talk to me like this?
"What do you mean, enough trouble? I'm standing up for you!" he shouted.
"We've got nothing more to say."
Visger sighed. "Maybe we were never meant to walk the same road. You're third-generation rich—you've never tasted hardship."
He paused. "Don't come looking for me again."
Without another glance at Steve's stunned, furious face, Visger strode out of the café with his assistant.
Steve stood there blankly, only snapping back to reality long moments later.
"Did my best friend just chew me out?"
"And cut me off for good?"
Rage flooded him.
Kyle Page, this isn't over.