At that moment, Alaric Davenport's men were closing in on the masked man's location. They were already lying in ambush outside, ready to charge in.
"Make your choice," a voice urged from the screen.
"I'll give you ten percent of the shares," Alaric Davenport said, his voice cold.
"Alaric, you're crazy!" Rosalind's voice trembled. A shudder ran through her, making her body sway in the air.
The chains digging into her were incredibly uncomfortable, and they had already left bloody marks on her skin in several places.
The man on the screen laughed. "Mr. Davenport, as wealthy and extravagant as ever. It seems you truly would choose the beauty over the throne. A mere ten percent of the shares, and you don't even bat an eye."
Two people opened the door and walked in. They handed him a contract and motioned for him to sign.
