Married to the Demon Himself
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Not even the gods could stop George Johnson, the icy and merciless CEO of Johnson Enterprises, from choosing Lara Rose as his wife. *** George Johnson is the multibillion-dollar Johnson Enterprises' icy, merciless, and tenacious CEO. He takes careful, thoughtful steps at every turn. The kind of person who will return favors. When he is told that the debt a smaller company owes him has even slightly harmed his financial situation, he is presented with the oldest option. Make the oldest daughter of the debtor his bride and place himself first in line to receive all of their assets. The young bride-to-be, however, is not as obedient as he would want. She actually embodies the antithesis of the ideal wife. They are getting married soon, and then a sequence of funny things happen that lead to them falling in love and finding solace in one another faster than they ever anticipated.
He carried a man and a lady into the boardroom. An official atmosphere was produced by the formal attire along with the serious demeanor. The individuals in the opulent room who were already there stood up to greet him and let him know they were aware of his arrival. He glanced at the group of individuals in front of him before indicating to everyone to take a seat. Nobody had the guts to speak. Without pausing to look up, he opened a file and immediately gave a young guy the signal to start the presentation.
The statement was stopped short by a sarcastic remark. "The aim of our new store will be to sell shoes at a lower price so that our customers-"
As he read over the material, he rolled his eyes and exclaimed, "You mean to tell me you want to lower our profit margin!?"
I am not necessarily saying, sir, but...
He shouted, making the room feel very cold. "This company is built off of integrity and quality. My father did not build this company for it to simply be mediocre. If there is not a better pitch by Tuesday at noon, you will be fired."
But... may I finish?" the hapless boy stammered as his boss stood up and started to leave the room without showing any sign of emotion. His followers, his aides, joined him in leaving, their faces displaying boredom.
He screamed in frustration, "Who is he to treat people that way?! Who does he think he is!?"
He is George Johnson, the CEO and president of these department stores, some of the best in the world, you know... He owns this business, said the woman in red.
He irritably remarked, "Yes I know, it was a rhetorical question," gathered up his files, and walked out of the room.
As two guys entered the building, he was sitting in his gleaming black office chair, looking over his calendar for the following week.
George questioned them angrily, "They are posing as a threat? Since when has this corporation become big enough to possibly get close to damaging us?
"We have tried to schedule a meeting with one of their representatives to create some sort of co-operation, but it has fallen through each time," one of the guys said after exchanging glances.
George got out of his chair and approached the two men from behind.
The men were taken aback, not expecting to be asked all of the questions at once. "So, are you telling me this whole time you have found this predicament entirely too unimportant to report to me, yet according to these charts, our sales have decreased by a whopping 20%?" The place became silent and seemed foreboding like a cloud.
Actually, sir, when your father was the active CEO and residing president, he loaned about ten million dollars to Rose, of the Rose Stores, after a project had failed. It was originally five million, but they kept asking for more after asking for more and more, until eventually your father passed away. But that money is what has been preventing our advertisement from running, sir.
He asked, "Mr. Maxwell, start a brief review on this case, written and return it to me as soon as possible. I will need some time to reflect on where to start with this case. Rose owes us ten million dollars? And they have paid none of it back? My father was lenient with individuals. Mr. Maxwell nodded curtly in answer. Despite the fact that George was in his late twenties and Mr. Maxwell was in his early forties, Mr. Maxwell had developed a deep regard for his boss. He was of average height. His dark hair had grey streaks that matched his eyes precisely, and the lines around his eyes were evidence of stress and hard labor. The two men prepared to start a new assignment together.
George called after him, "Mr. Maxwell, I would like you to give your input and ideas on how to handle this. You have worked at this company for the last ten years; you probably know more about what happened with my father and Rose than anyone."
Mr. Maxwell replied in a kind manner, "Yes sir, of course.
He was startled out of his working daze by a knock at the door.
George yelled, "Come in. A young woman in her late 20s entered the room, her straight, dark-brown hair billowing in the wind as she moved. She had a fair complexion and was wearing a sky blue chiffon top with a black professional pencil skirt. She replied, holding a tiny planner,
I am sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but you need to leave because you have a function to attend this evening.
Before she exited the office, he nodded in response and said, "Okay, please get the driver and car in place." He quickly changed into something appropriate for the occasion and headed home.
George asked, "I would assume you have got everything figured out?"
Mr. Maxwell handed Mr. Johnson the packet of papers and said, "Yes, Mr. Johnson.
George read through the files and said, "That is good to hear. It is good to know you take your work seriously. Ideas on a solution?"
Well, sir, I do not think the Rose family will be able to repay us any time soon. Given how much they spent on personal expenses compared to how much they made, I do not think we will ever be able to recover even a modest portion of our money back.
What exactly are you saying, Mr. Maxwell—that we just lost $10 million to our most advanced competitors? What on earth could you possibly mean?—insists Mr. Maxwell.
Mr. Maxwell paused, immediately doubting his plan. "Well, since money is not currently available, we will have to go with non-price factors."
George, now intrigued in what might possibly equal to 10 million bucks, pushed, "Y
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