[Chapter 329: Hillary]
What Linton didn't expect was that soon after, Goldman Group CEO Matthew Hanton also came knocking.
He had almost the same purpose and words as Basak Morgan, both trying to intimidate him into going public quickly by threatening a joint crackdown from Hollywood giants and suggesting bringing in strategic investors. They acted as if the company would collapse quickly if it didn't go public.
The terms offered were almost identical, a $3 billion valuation with at least 50% equity given up.
This set off alarm bells in Linton's mind - since when did Wall Street titans act with such unison? Could it be someone or some organization pulling strings behind the scenes?
Thinking that, he immediately used Soul Induction, "Matthew, why did you come to me? Who is orchestrating this?"
"It's Delmont Douglas."
So it was the head of the Douglas family. That explained a lot. The Douglas family had suffered several setbacks at Linton's hands. Especially last month, when his son Edward Douglas had been beheaded by Linton, although the FBI and Los Angeles police never found the killer, the Douglas family seemed to have pinned the blame on Linton.
Apparently, they hadn't been hurt enough yet and still dared to scheme against him behind the scenes.
"So it's him. What exactly is he doing?"
"Two-fold. One, pushing the six major Hollywood studios to jointly suppress you. Two, getting some of our major Wall Street investment banks to seize the opportunity to financially swallow your company at a low price."
The Douglas family was indeed formidable, being core figures of the militant Jewish faction. Not only could they command the media world, but they also held enormous sway over Wall Street.
For a regular film company, this combo punch would be tough to withstand, and they might really succeed.
Unfortunately for them, they were dealing with Linton. Since they persisted in scheming behind his back, they shouldn't blame him for clamping down even harder.
Time slipped by until the banquet was nearing its end. Just as Linton thought the White House dinner would wrap up smoothly, a staff member quietly approached him.
"Mr. Anderson, the First Lady requests your presence. Please follow me."
The main event had arrived, a classic honey trap. But confident in his abilities and fearless, Linton followed the staff member out of the banquet hall toward the White House.
Along the way, he opened his senses, seeing every room in the White House in his spiritual awareness.
He soon found Hillary in a lavish room deep on the third floor. The room's decor surprised him, especially Hillary's utterly shocking outfit.
What was going on? Remembering the small gesture Hillary made during their handshake, he had a bad feeling.
They turned left and right, walking for over ten minutes to a secluded room on the west side of the third floor. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel-fire.net
The door was slightly ajar. The staff member knocked lightly and bowed to Linton, "Mr. Anderson, the First Lady is inside. You may enter directly."
Having come this far, Linton didn't hesitate. He pushed the door open and went in.
Just as Linton had sensed, it was a huge luxurious bedroom.
The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with Linton's posters. Above the bedhead hung a giant poster of Linton, shirtless, surfing on a wave peak in The Shallows.
On the tables and nightstands were numerous action figures of Linton's movie characters.
Near the entrance was a chaise lounge, where Hillary lay lazily, dressed in a provocative negligee.
Though 47, Hillary didn't look like a typical middle-aged woman. Somehow she'd preserved a youthful appearance, looking like a 30-something beauty.
Her long blonde hair draped over her shoulders and her lightly made-up face still showed hints of youthful beauty.
Her skin wasn't as delicate as a young girl's, but it was glowing and hydrated, unlike most women in middle age with loose, dry skin.
Her figure hadn't changed, curves in all the right places. Not a bombshell but attractively shapely.
She wore a sheer purple long nightgown, black stockings on her legs, and red high heels, exuding mature seductiveness.
Seeing Linton enter, Hillary posed enticingly, one hand caressing her chest, the other her leg. She uttered a sultry murmur, her finger beckoning Linton in an obvious invitation.
But Linton, having seen countless stunning beauties, was unimpressed. His standards were beyond ordinary people's. The sight of Hillary's seductive pose and sheer nightgown stirred no desire.
"Madam, are you looking for me?"
Hillary had long coveted Linton's charm and had orchestrated this opportunity herself.
She had prepared meticulously, filling the room with Linton's presence and dressing in her most enticing way.
She had assumed that, given her beauty and status as First Lady, she could awaken Linton's desire and seal the deal.
At the end of last year, when she invited Leonardo DiCaprio and played it cool, she wasn't dressed nearly as seductively. Leo had lunged at her like a starving wolf at the slightest signal.
Unfortunately, while he was handsome, his skills were lacking. He was just a quick draw like Bill, and though he managed a combo of oral and finger skills with difficulty, the experience was somewhat lacking.
After the first spy attempt failed, she hadn't sent another but never stopped gathering info on Linton.
She knew his eyes were high and he surrounded himself with stunning beauties; ordinary women didn't catch his interest, hence her elaborate preparation and dress.
To her surprise, her efforts didn't impress him; he didn't pounce but instead spoiled the mood by asking questions.
Though disappointed, it only stirred her competitive spirit.
After all, they were at the White House, her home turf. Since Linton had come, how could he turn down her invitation?
No matter how proud or stubborn, today he'd have to comply and come to her.
Thinking this, she sat up, patting the chair beneath her. "Linton, come sit."
Linton looked around; the room had only that one chair. "No thanks, I'll stand."
"Linton, do you know where you are?"
"Yes, the White House."
"Since you know, you dare disobey my order?"
"Do you dare give me orders?"
"Of course, this is the White House. Would you dare defy me?"
He complied and sat as she asked.
"Dear, that's better," Hillary said happily, leaning forward.
Just as she prepared to make her move, Linton formed a hand seal and chanted an incantation. An invisible slave mark appeared and swiftly flew to Hillary's forehead with his gesture, making her instantly fall asleep.
Ten minutes later, Linton saw in his spiritual awareness that the slave mark had covered her entire mind.
He snapped his fingers, and Hillary opened her eyes, first confusedly shaking her head, then quickly standing and kneeling at his feet, "Slave Hillary, greets master."
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