Meanwhile, Justin just exhaled through his teeth. "Yeah. That's enough TV for tonight."
He grabbed the remote and clicked it off.
Sasha, still dying, was clutching his shoulders. "Justin. Justin, be real. Did you bag the President?"
Justin gave her a deadpan look. "Go get me another drink."
Justin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. The noise didn't bother him—negative takes, positive takes, whatever. None of it really touched him. What mattered was how Black Veil looked to the world. If he wanted to take it to the next level, he had to clean up its reputation and slap some fresh polish on its decaying image.
Appointing a new CEO was one step. The other? Making sure no bank was breathing down their necks over that damn debt. The due date was right around the corner, and he wasn't about to let creditors knock on his door like some mafia movie. So, he handled it.
How much?
$300 million.
