Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 353

Alistair's pupils shrank, and his fists clenched tightly. “Phoenix, you're asking for too much! You already have five percent. With this twenty percent, you'd be the second-largest shareholder with twenty-five percent!”

“So what?” Phoenix spread her hands, smiling casually. “You still hold the absolute majority with thirty percent, making you the largest shareholder. What, are you already afraid I'm going to usurp you?”

The muscles in Alistair's face twitched as an internal battle raged within him.

Twenty-five percent was an incredibly dangerous red line! If Phoenix absorbed even six percent more from retail investors or minor shareholders, she could kick him out of his chairman seat entirely!

But in this current situation, did he have the luxury of saying no?

“Fine... I agree.” After a long, dead silence, Alistair forced the words through gritted teeth, looking as though he had aged ten years in an instant.

“Excellent.” Phoenix smirked. She picked up the teapot herself and poured him a fresh cup. “You truly are the anchor of the Prescott family, Alistair. You know when to cut your losses. With your kind of boldness, the future of the company is certainly bright.”

The superficial praise felt worse than a knife to Alistair's chest. He stared at the cup of tea, then suddenly picked it up and downed it in one gulp, as if drinking poison.

“Tomorrow morning, I will convene an emergency shareholder meeting to publicly announce your appointment as CEO of the Prescott Group.” He slammed the cup down, his voice chillingly cold. “Don't be late.”

“Of course.” Phoenix beamed.

Unable to stay a second longer, Alistair stood up abruptly. Leaning heavily on his cane, he left the tea room without looking back. His retreating figure looked unmistakably like a man fleeing in defeat.

Inside the black sedan.

As soon as the car door closed, Alistair's facade dropped entirely, his expression turning thunderous.

“Dad, how did it go?” Wesley asked eagerly from the passenger seat.

“She agreed,” Alistair scoffed coldly. “But the girl is greedy. She wants to swallow Warren's entire twenty percent stake.”

“What!” Wesley gasped. “Dad, she's clearly trying to stage a coup! You can't possibly agree to that!”

Behind the massive desk, Silas sat with his legs propped up, his face practically glowing with the smug satisfaction of a victorious upstart.

Over the past few days, the taste of power had clearly gone to his head. His usual low-key, humble facade had been ripped away, replaced by unabashed arrogance.

In his mind, he was only one step away from completely taking over the Sterling Group. Once he crossed this threshold, not even Arthur himself could shake his position.

“Silas, it seems you're quite satisfied with that seat.”

Pierce's voice was deep, laced with a biting chill. He walked straight to the desk, casually pulled out the leather guest chair, and sat down with commanding ease.

Seeing Pierce, a flicker of instinctive panic flashed through Silas's eyes. But the rush of power quickly took over again. He scoffed, forcing his spine straight, trying to overwhelm Pierce with a condescending attitude.

“Pierce, now that I'm in charge, everything is developing steadily.” Silas leaned back in the executive chair, unable to hide his smugness. “I believe it won't be long before I take the Sterling Group to the next level.”

“Oh? Then I must congratulate you in advance on your inevitable success.” Pierce applauded slowly, a meaningful smirk playing on his lips.