Chapter 32 Exclusive Release Chapter 32 She stood in his open...
The girl stepped back, and Elias breathed a sigh of relief.
Yuan Ning's phone rang. She turned around, facing the dark canal, and answered the call.
“Hey, Edward.”
“Wynne, I’m really sorry to tell you this. I’ve already explained your plan to my father, but he’s not interested. Maybe he’s tired. Many people in the workshop are getting old. Capital taking over the operation might be the best way out for the workshop.”
"I understand, Edward."
Yuan Ning hung up the phone, and Elias once again proved to her the power and coldness of the logic of capital.
How could she, a student, possibly contend with him on her own?
Elias stood three steps away, watching her figure with her back to him as she stood on the edge of the stone bridge.
A night breeze swept by, and she draped his coat over her shoulders, her black hair curling up.
When she hung up the phone, her shoulders slumped slightly in an almost imperceptible arc.
But she turned around and smiled at him.
Elias was somewhat surprised, yet felt it was only natural.
An ambitious girl won't cry because she receives a fateful message.
"Elijas, thank you."
Elias was silent for a moment, then asked her, "Why?"
"If you hadn't shown me these things, it might have taken me a very, very long time to truly grow up."
She was also grateful to him; Elias wasn't the type to make concessions to girls directly in business dealings. If he had, she would never have seen the true rules of the world.
After all, for a girl like her, everything she has achieved so far has come too easily.
Night had fallen, the Tuscan sky was low-hanging, and the wilderness was serene.
Luca's Alfa Romeo glided through the manor's stone archway, its wheels rolling over the gravel path, eventually returning to the hotel in Santo Pietro.
“We’ve arrived, Miss Wynne,” Luca’s voice broke the silence.
"Thank you, Luca." Yuan Ning's voice was tired and hoarse.
Yuan Ning got out of the car carrying her laptop bag and handbag and walked toward the wooden door of the farmhouse.
The streetlights in the manor were spaced far apart, casting a dim yellow light. She took out her key, and the metal made a "click" sound as it turned in the lock.
The door opened, and warm yellow light and the dry aroma of burning pine wood from the fireplace wafted out.
Yuan Ning went inside, took off her high heels in the entryway, and stepped barefoot onto the warm terracotta floor. She placed her laptop bag and handbag on the low stool by the door, her movements somewhat slow.
Yuan Ning just learned that Elias and his team are also staying at the o Santo Pietro Hotel, but the two sides are not in contact for some business reason.
Looking at the red wine, bouquets, and fruit baskets that the waiter had rearranged in the room, she thought to herself, "If only I had treated this trip as a vacation."
Sigh, all that effort for nothing.
Tomorrow is her last day here. Once Elias and Casanova have signed the agreement, she can take Elias's private plane back with him.
At this moment, the fire in the fireplace was just right, the fruit basket on the small round table was full of plump, juicy grapes, and the bottle of Brunello she hadn't finished gleamed a deep ruby red in the candlelight. A bouquet of fresh white freesias sat in a vase, their crisp fragrance subtly intertwined with the aroma of pine smoke.
Yuan Ning walked to the small round table and poured herself a small glass of red wine. She didn't sit down, but leaned against the edge of the table and slowly sipped it.
The rich liquor slid down my throat, bringing a touch of warmth, but it couldn't dispel the stagnation in my chest.
Her gaze fell on the laptop in the corner. It contained all the hard work she had put in over the past week.
She put down her wine glass, walked over, and turned on the computer.
She clicked on the PDF file titled "Casanova Revival Solution - Final Version".
The mouse pointer moved to the delete button in the upper right corner.
It should all be over now. She can turn off the computer, finish the bottle of wine, take a hot bath, and enjoy the last day of Tuscan sunshine tomorrow.
My fingers hovered over the touchpad, trembling slightly.
The firewood in the fireplace crackled and popped, sending a few sparks flying.
Wait a moment.
A faint thought, almost drowned out by exhaustion, flashed through her mind like a spark.
What if... my proposal isn't for Casanova?
The idea was initially vague, but as she stared at the charts and text on the screen, it gradually became clearer and sharper.
Marco was tired, and the old man in the workshop wanted to receive a generous compensation to enjoy his old age.
Elias's aim was simply to turn Casanova into a mass-produced luxury brand, earning a 35% annualized return, and transforming the workshop into a money-making tool within his vast business empire.
Both sides are profiting, so there is indeed no reason for anyone to choose Yuan Ning.
Yuan Ning's finger left the delete key and began to slide rapidly across the touchpad. She brought up the document again and started making changes.
Suddenly, my mind cleared up.
She still harbors feelings for Casanova; she doesn't want him to become a money-making tool on an assembly line. But self-interest is the eternal driving force. Why is it only now that she understands this?
Yuan Ning has never been good at subjects like math and finance; she is an artist.
But she was prepared to spend the entire night rebuilding a financial model.
If she can demonstrate to Elias that her proposal can yield a more sustainable long-term return on investment, then they will become partners, rather than competitors.
This isn't about sentimentality; it's about business.
“Don’t be fooled by this suit, Wynne. This is still a war.”
The fire in the fireplace gradually died down, so Yuan Ning got up and added a few pieces of firewood to reignite the flames.
Outside the window, the Tuscan night was so thick it seemed impossible to tear it away.
The outlines of the distant hills blend into the darkness, with only a few scattered lights from farmhouses, like diamonds scattered on black velvet.
Gradually, a hint of gray began to show through the deep blue horizon.
Yuan Ning typed the last period and rubbed her sore eyes.
As dawn approached, she saved the document.
Then, she closed her laptop and went to the bedside.
The manor was shrouded in a hazy blue-gray hue, tranquil yet full of life.
Yuan Ning picked up the glass of red wine that had been sitting on the table overnight and drank it all in one gulp.
She turned and headed towards the bathroom; she needed to take a shower and change her clothes.
At seven o'clock in the morning, golden rays of light pierced through the olive grove.
Richard was arranging the first round of morning meetings, while the boss was having breakfast in his room.
The meeting room provided to Percival's team by the hotel was already filled with the sounds of heated discussions, interspersed with the light clinking of coffee cups and saucers.
Undoubtedly, today was another busy and hectic day for them.
Yuan Ning changed into a neat outfit, holding a printed copy of the plan she had worked on overnight, as well as a USB drive containing the electronic version.
She raised her hand and knocked on the umbrella at the conference room door.
Footsteps sounded randomly. The door opened, revealing Richard's always businesslike face.
“Oh, Miss Wynne. If I remember correctly, the boss arranged for Luca to take you shopping in downtown Milan today. What are you doing here? No girl dislikes shopping, Miss Wynne, why don't you go?”
"Richard, I have a collaboration I'd like to discuss with your boss. Could you schedule a ten-minute meeting for me?"
Yuan Ning kept smiling.
Richard looked troubled, his gaze passing over her and landing on the boss who was walking up behind her.
Yuan Ning turned around, Elias glanced at her, then walked past her into the conference room, leaving her with the words, "Let her in, Richard."
Richard immediately stepped aside to make way.
"Please come in, Ms. Meng."
Yuan Ning strode in, and around the long oak conference table sat six or seven people: four men and three women, all dressed in dark suits and expressionless.
Elias sat at the top of the long table, his back to the huge arched window. The morning light poured in from behind him, gilding his silhouette, but his face was obscured by the backlight.
When he arrived, you could hear a pin drop in the meeting room.
Everyone's gaze subtly fell on Yuan Ning.
She walked in, placed the file bag on the table, and glanced at every face around her.
These individuals are elites carefully selected by Elias, experts in numbers, markets, and law. They are the tentacles and the brains of capital.
“Mr. Van der Berg,” Yuan Ning walked to the other end of the long table, facing him, “I have a supplementary business proposal for Casanova that I would like to submit to you and your team.”
The people at the table looked impatient. They had a lot of work to do today, and no one had time to deal with the boss's...dress consultant.
Unfortunately, the boss seemed to value this stylist highly. It is said that he not only allowed her to watch movies in his private lounge, but also used his personal connections to lend her an antique Dior piece.
Elias looked up at Yuan Ning. The girl's eyes were firm, and she was dressed appropriately. Unbeknownst to him, her disguise was much better than when he first met her.
She used to play pampered rich heiresses, what will she play now?
Elias looked at her with mixed feelings; he didn't really like bringing personal relationships into his work.
He crossed his legs and leaned back in the high-backed chair, his left hand casually resting on the armrest, while his right hand seemed somewhat agitated, as if trying to pull a cigar from his pocket, but it didn't.
His expression remained unchanged, his jawline still sharp and cold, but his eyes began to scrutinize Yuan Ning once again.
Or it could be an assessment.
Yuan Ning certainly sensed the deliberate aloofness he displayed in this setting.
She was almost certain that if she performed a childish act today, Elias would frown and ask her to leave.
She believed he had some feelings for her, but those feelings were limited, and his patience was even more limited.
He would probably remind her, "Wynne, this isn't a place for you."
Yuan Ning knew, of course, that if she came here and continued to talk about sentiments and art, it would be right for her to be asked to leave.
"Ten minutes," he said, "starting now."
He finally raised his hand and glanced at the hands of his watch.
Yuan Ning nodded. She didn't sit down, but instead opened the file folder and distributed the printed proposals to everyone at the table, including Richard. Her movements were swift and efficient, as if she were already part of the team.
“I know that Percival’s plan for Casanova is to rapidly industrialize it after the acquisition, expand production through semi-mechanized manufacturing, target the high-end mass market, and aim to achieve an annualized return of 35% within three years.” She began, speaking steadily, “This is a very good and risk-controlled classic strategy.”
She first affirmed the other party's point of view, which is a basic negotiation skill. I just learned it last night.
"But I would like to suggest a possibility: if we lengthen and thicken the brand value curve, rather than pursuing short-term peaks, the overall return may be higher in the end."
She walked to the front of the meeting room, where there was a whiteboard. Without preparing a PowerPoint presentation, she used the most basic method.
“What is Casanova’s core value?” she wrote down the first word, “Handcrafted uniqueness. This cannot be completely replaced by machinery, and it is the fundamental reason why it can maintain its differentiation among many luxury brands.”
“Madam, we only look at predictable cash flows,” said a female analyst with thin-rimmed glasses from Elias’s team.
Yuan Ning drew two curves on the whiteboard.
The first path ascends steeply and then gradually flattens out; this is Perseus's current plan.
The second line starts slightly lower and rises more gently, but after reaching a certain point, the slope begins to change and continues to climb, eventually surpassing the first line at a much later point in time.
“This is based on the logic of economies of scale, which is very correct.” She then changed the subject, “but this logic has an invisible ceiling: brand dilution. As Casanova’s bags appear on more people’s shoulders, its ‘uniqueness’ diminishes. Over time, its premium pricing power will decline, forcing it into homogeneous competition with other luxury brands, and ultimately requiring more marketing expenses to maintain its positioning. This is why the curve tends to flatten out later on.”
She pointed to the second curve.
“My proposed solution is to view Casanova as a value amplifier. Instead of pursuing scale expansion, we will proactively reduce supply and raise the entry barriers.”
She wrote down several keywords on the whiteboard: membership system, invitation system, annual quota, workshop immersive experience.
"Specifically: In the first year, we will only open 12 membership slots. It's not for purchase, it's by invitation. The invitations are not for traditional old money, but for those who have just reached a new peak of wealth and urgently need a symbol of status to announce their arrival, such as tech elites. They have money, but lack a legacy that can be recognized by the old money circle."
A male investment manager raised an eyebrow: "Sounds like haute couture."
“It’s even more extreme than haute couture,” Yuan Ning quickly added. “Because the waiting period itself is part of the product. We tell these 12 people: You will own the only piece of Casanova’s collection each year for the next ten years, made entirely under the master craftsman’s supervision. You will participate in leather selection and design discussions, and your name will be engraved in the workshop’s heritage register. What you are buying is not just a bag, but a story that can be passed down, a ticket to the top circle.”
“I’ve rebuilt the financial model.” She walked up to Elias and handed him a separate document. “Although my math skills aren’t as good as yours, I consulted with classmates from Parsons’ financial modeling class and stayed up all night to check it.”
Elias opened the document and saw a simple comparison table on the first page, indicating that the girl's purpose was very clear.
“The industrialization approach pursues short-term cash returns, while the membership approach builds long-term brand monopoly. Five years later, when the industrialized Casanova is caught in red ocean competition, the membership-based Casanova will become a social currency, its scarcity will be self-reinforcing, and its premium will increase compounded over time.”
“I’ve done some preliminary calculations,” Yuan Ning’s voice calmed down, “If we extend the timeframe to ten years, considering the compounding effect of brand premium, extremely low customer churn rate, and near-zero marketing costs, the internal rate of return for Option B is expected to exceed 40%, higher than Option A’s 35%. Moreover, it’s safer.”
It doesn't rely on market size; it relies on timeless human needs: the desire for uniqueness, identity, and continuity.
The conference room was silent, with only the morning light moving slowly and dust dancing in the beams of light.
If Yuan Ning's mental resilience were even slightly weaker, or if she lacked confidence in her own plan, she might have already started trembling all over.
Finally, Elias finished turning the last page of the document. He looked up, his icy blue eyes staring directly at Yuan Ning.
"You stayed up all night to make this?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion.
“Yes.” Yuan Ning readily admitted, “I know time is tight, and Mr. Marco will sign the letter of intent this afternoon.”
"Why do you think we should consider your... more complicated and troublesome proposal when we already have a mature solution?" asked an older analyst sitting to Elias's right, his tone sharp. "You should know that we have more than just this one project. Casanova is just a small leather goods workshop."
“Because Percival Capital, if I remember correctly,” she said, emphasizing each word, “never just seeks decent returns. You look for undervalued potential value that is underestimated by the market, and then use your capital and wisdom to uncover and amplify it.”
She turned to Elias, her gaze intense.
Before those words, Elias might not have been moved by her.
After saying that... he began to smile.
He wanted to uncover and amplify the value of Wynne, not Casanova.
Yuan Ning was good at reading people's expressions. She looked into Elias's blue eyes and slightly raised her chin.
“If my proposal proves to be valuable, then I hope that I, as a partner, will jointly invest with Percival Capital and hold half of Casanova’s equity, thus restructuring the cooperation framework among the three parties.”
"In addition, I need 51% of the decision-making power to ensure that the brand's image is not diluted by the will of capital. But in terms of profit distribution, Percival can take 70%, and I only need 30%. After all, capital bears the greatest risk of the initial investment and should get a higher return."
A few soft gasps were heard in the conference room.
A 20-year-old female student, carrying a proposal she had worked on overnight, barged into the morning meeting of a capital giant and demanded to become a partner.
After a long while, he raised his hand, not to check his watch, but to make an extremely simple gesture.
“Richard,” he said, his voice calm and even, “contact Marco Casanova. Tell him the meeting scheduled for this afternoon is postponed to tomorrow.”
He paused, his icy blue eyes finally shifting from Yuan Ning's face to the team in the conference room.
“Now, everyone, including Ms. Meng,” he added, “we need to recalculate.”
His gaze finally settled on Yuan Ning, and there was no praise, no warmth, only a sharp, purely investor-centric scrutiny.
“You have one hour to prove to me that you are worth us adjusting our strategy, recalculating the risks, and possibly giving up a mature 35% annualized return plan.”
He leaned slightly forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers interlaced, forming a stable yet imposing posture.
"Let's begin."
*
Deep within the hotel estate, there is a terrace surrounded by ancient olive trees.
Two hours have passed since the meeting ended.
Yuan Ning stood alone on the edge of the terrace, her back to the way she came, gazing at the valley in a daze.
When Elias found the place, he didn't speak immediately, but stood a few steps away and watched quietly for a moment.
Wynne, wearing an ivory cashmere sweater, looked all alone.
He looked at her quietly for a moment, holding two things in his hands: a heavy folder (her proposal, which his team had annotated extensively) and a bottle of Brunello red wine.
They are still arguing.
He finally spoke, his voice lower and more relaxed than it had been in the conference room.
Hearing this, Yuan Ning turned to look at him: "Has the argument been resolved?"
Elias walked to the table, placed the folder on it, and it made a dull, soft sound.
Then, he put down his glass, took out his cigar box from his pocket, and prepared to take out a cigar and light it.
He sat down on the wrought iron chair, crossed his legs, and finally looked at her again, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Congratulations. Your proposal has been approved."
His voice carried a sense of calm settling down, as well as a deeper, more subtle meaning.
She turned around, facing him completely.
As dusk settled, the last rays of crimson light shone on his golden hair and straight nose. He sat in the shadows, an unlit cigar between his fingers, like a lord examining spoils of war on his own territory, or perhaps... examining his prey.
"What about the contract? When will it be finalized?" she asked.
Elias did not answer immediately. He took out a silver cigar cutter and slowly cut open the cap of his cigar.
“Wynne, why are you in such a hurry?” He raised his eyes, his icy blue pupils like two cold flames in the deepening night. “The legal department is still finalizing the contract details.”
“Elijas, I can’t wait.” The evening breeze on the terrace suddenly became scorching hot, and Yuan Ning took a deep breath.
Once the contract is finalized, she will have real say; she will no longer be just a student or someone's employee, but a true capital partner.
Elias cupped his hands and lit a long wooden match. The flame hissed and leaped up, burning steadily, its orange-red light instantly illuminating half of his face, his deep-set eyes, and his tightly pursed lips.
He didn't rush to light a cigar, but let the flame flicker between the two of them, and the rich aroma of tobacco began to fill the air in advance.
He looked at her excited expression, her chest heaving and her eyes shining, and suddenly chuckled twice.
He spread his hands out to her, revealing his legs. "Wynne, come here."
He didn't move, he just sat there, using his gaze and words to capture her soul with all his might.
Yuan Ning walked towards him, with a low wall and an empty valley behind her, and a wall he had built in front of her, a wall intertwined with passion, desire and power.
Her body trembled slightly, not from fear.
It's because of longing.
She longed for it so much, and had longed for it for a very, very long time.
She looked up and met his burning gaze.
"Elijas, can you give me anything?"
Elias remained seated, motionless.
"Wynne, what do you want? Money? Fame? Power? Status?"
He casually placed the lit cigar on the table, as if temporarily setting down a gentleman's scepter.
He opened his arms completely and invited her in.
"Elijas, I want them all. I'll get them myself. Please give them all to me."
She stood between his open legs, looking down at him.
He neither said "good" nor "bad".
He simply raised one hand and placed it on her slender waist, his large palm almost completely enveloping her. He exerted a little force, pulling her even closer.
His thumb began to slowly and meaningfully caress her waist.
With a forceful tightening of his arms, Yuan Ning was already sitting on his lap, embraced by him.
He lowered his head, his nose almost touching hers, and said in a gentlemanly tone, as if coaxing a little girl, "Wynne, wanting everything comes at a price."
But his words felt more like an invitation to her.
His lips were only a hair's breadth away from hers, their breaths mingling, hot and moist.
Yuan Ning's heart pounded like a drum, and her blood surged through her body.
She raised her hand, her index finger resting on his lower lip, pressing it slightly with her fingertip: "I want you to watch over me, I want you to pave the way for me."
Elias didn't push her hand away; instead, he slightly opened his mouth. This action sent a tingling sensation down Yuan Ning's spine.
“Wynne, you have secured at least 30% of Percival Capital’s resources for the luxury goods and traditional crafts sector over the next five years. My private legal team will prioritize serving you during the contract period. Some of the Van der Berg family’s connections in Europe will also be made available to you.”
This was power, naked and terrifying power for a twenty-year-old girl. He was personally handing her the scepter.
At this moment, her ambition, which had been burning with desire for too long, and her body enveloped by his aura, made her want to seize him at all costs.
"Anything else?" she pressed, her voice slightly hoarse with emotion, her fingers sliding from his lips to his angular jawline, and then to his bobbing Adam's apple.
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