"So, Master," ARIA’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the engine, smooth and professional, saving me from further embarrassment at Isabella’s teasing. "I’ve finished the analysis. With this plan, we will only need to wait two weeks before we initiate the Sterling Downfall Protocol."
Finally. Something that didn’t make me want to commit vehicular homicide.
"How was it?’ I asked through our mental link, my focus sharpening. "How fast will this be?"
"The hotel where you’re planning to buy the penthouse for yourself and Isabella is on the verge of collapse," ARIA began, her tone carrying that distinctive edge of satisfaction she got when uncovering a goldmine of weakness. "After the death of their patriarch three months ago, the heirs—a daughter in banking and a son in oil—are quietly looking to sell. This information is not public; it’s a whisper among LA’s elite."
Data streamed across my vision via the quantum interface in my glasses: property records, leveraged debt assessments, the family tree showing the fractured inheritance. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺
"The sister holds 60% to her brother’s 40%," ARIA continued. "The hotel carries significant debt, so their plan is to sell, settle the obligations, and split the remaining profit."
I frowned, weaving through traffic smoothly. The AMG One handled like a dream, responsive to the slightest touch. "That doesn’t make sense, does it? With their money and jobs alone, they could settle a $200M debt and keep the hotel running, couldn’t they? Why sell a profit machine even if it’s in debt?"
"You’re right, but they don’t want to," ARIA replied, and I could practically hear her shrug.
"To settle the debt would take years to recoup their investment—we’re talking about debt settlement plus renovations to bring it back to competitive standards. The hotel’s been declining for the past five years as the patriarch’s health failed. Maintenance was deferred, staff quality dropped, reviews tanked. To fix all that? Call it $400M total for debts and upgrades. Minimum."
She paused, letting me process.
"But what if they sell it for $600M instead? They don’t spend anything, they get $400M after settling the debt, and each can reinvest those millions into their primary businesses—where they actually have expertise and passion. The sister can pour it into her banking ventures, the brother into his oil operations and the other branches. If you ask me, it’s a short-sighted vision wrapped in the promise of immediate solutions. But given what they’d have to sacrifice to bring it back to life, this is the choice 90% of humans would make."
She was right. It was smart from a lazy, short-sighted perspective but stupid if you had vision. They were selling a crown jewel for scrap value.
"Is $600 million their asking price or the starting bid for the silent auction?"
ARIA had initially been scouting for a penthouse. Finding the perfect one in this particular hotel had led her - true to her form - to unravel the entire tapestry of vulnerability surrounding it—a vulnerability I intended to exploit for a much larger game.
What, did you think I’d forgiven Edward Sterling? No chance. I am petty incarnate, and my grudges are curated like fine art. I pay them back tenfold.
But for Sterling? After he showed up at my home, uninvited, and spewed his venom—accusing my mother of being a whore who sold her body for a Mercedes, standing in our house as if he had any right to judge us—the debt had multiplied to a hundredfold.
I’d bided my time, waiting for the right tools. Now I had them. And while I dismantled that bastard piece by piece, Liberation Holdings would be right there with me, swallowing every broken piece of his empire.
No one insults my women and NEVER my Mother!

Quick math: If only 280 out of 500 rooms were booked nightly—a conservative estimate for a declining hotel—that’s $420,000 per day. $153M per year before counting the restaurant, spa, events, memberships, suites, and penthouses.
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