For a second, nobody breathed. Then Samuel continued, slow and asured, as if every syllable weighed a pound.
"I wanted to do business with MK. Believe , I did. This studio shaped my early career, and I was ready to honor your request, accept the contract just as it was no fuss because our history goes back a long way."
At that mont his eyes flicked to the posters of his biggest hits, as if to remind everyone of that history. "But from the look of things," he went on, "you folks don’t appreciate —not the way you should." He swept his gaze across the room, lingering on each face. "Since you don’t honor enough, I’ll stand by my original demands."
He sat back in his chair, calm and composed, yet every word felt like a turn of the screw. "I’m giving MK Entertainnt three days exactly seventy-two hours to decide."
Imdiately a hush swept over the table. Even the hum of the air-conditioning seed to fade. Samuel’s final words cut through the silence like a blade.
"If not, I will take the offer that is being offered to by another organisation."
At that mont, Cora didn’t say a word.
She sat still, her expression calm, unreadable—like a painting hung in a silent gallery. Not a single muscle on her face twitched. No outrage. No apology. No explanation. Nothing. The room waited for her to respond, but she gave them only silence.
Samuel’s fingers clenched the edge of the table. His jaw tightened, and the heat in his eyes turned from irritation to full-blown rage.
Who the hell was she? he slamd his palm down on the table, startling even his own representatives. His voice tore through the room, harsh and raw.
"What the fuck ?! Who the fuck are you?!"
He stood from his seat, towering, his voice now echoing off the walls like thunder.
"You should introduce yourself," he snapped, pointing at her. "Because right now, I don’t even understand what the hell is going on here."
He stord around the table, eyes darting from Cora, searching for answers, but finding none.
Then sothing caught his eye the table in front of Cora, there was nothing there, no papers, no file, no contract, Absolutely nothing.
Imdiately Samuel’s face twisted. His nostrils flared as he stepped back and let out a cold, mocking laugh.
"So you ca here empty-handed?" he said, voice dripping with disbelief. "Not even a single docunt? Not one draft, not one clause, not even a sticky note?"
He shook his head and gave a slow, sarcastic clap.
"Well done," he scoffed. "It’s clear now. You all made up your minds before I walked in here. You didn’t co to negotiate. You ca to disgrace . To mock . You think I’m so clown you can humiliate in a quiet little room without caras?"
However Cora still didn’t flinch, then Samuel’s voice dropped low, more dangerous now.
"Well, I’m not going to fold my hands and just watch that happen. Never."
At that mont he took a breath, his chest rising sharply.
"That’s my decision," he growled. "My decision is final, and I am standing by it."
At that mont, Cora tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips curling into a quiet, knowing smile. But it wasn’t a smile of kindness or amusent it was the kind of smile that carried weight, one that made the air thicken with tension. Her eyes t Samuel’s burning gaze, unshaken, untouched by his outburst.
"You know," she said calmly, her voice sharp and clear, slicing through the heat he had created, "it seems you’re very, very cocky."
At that mont she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest as if she were settling into her natural place not as a stranger in the room, but as soone who had just claid it.
"Just as proud and loud as everyone has been saying," she continued, her words hitting each note with precision. "At first, I thought they might have misunderstood you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they didn’t know how to handle you. Maybe they weren’t eting your demands the right way. That’s what I thought."
She shook her head slowly. "But now, seeing it for myself... No. It’s true. Every word."
Samuel frowned, clearly not used to being spoken to like that—especially not by soone he had dismissed so easily just minutes ago.
"You look down on people too much," Cora went on, her voice never raising, but the intensity building with every sentence. "You size soone up with one glance and decide they’re beneath you. You looked at , and just because I walked in without fanfare, without a loud introduction, without docunts piled in front of , you assud I wasn’t good enough to sit across from you."
Then She leaned forward now, eyes narrowed, tone steely. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
The room froze. No one moved. Not even Samuel.
"Did you start your career all of a sudden?" she asked. "Did you wake up one morning and the entire country just scread your na? Is that how it happened?"
Her voice dripped with disbelief now, her frustration seeping through.
"You didn’t build your career alone, Samuel. People real people stood behind you. This company, the investors, the managers, the marketers... they all put in the work. A lot of money, ti, and trust were poured into you. And now, because you’re standing tall, you’ve forgotten how you got here?"
At that mont she paused, letting the weight of her words settle like dust in a still room.
"You were helped," she said, her tone quieter but firm. "You were shaped. And now, instead of showing gratitude, you spit in everyone’s face because they don’t worship the ground you walk on."
Cora sat back, her eyes never leaving his.
"And I’m not here for your approval, Samuel. I’m here to remind you of the truth you’ve clearly forgotten."
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