Chapter 261

Nathan Cross picked up the phone. "Hello."

"It's me."

Nathan glanced at the caller ID and responded icily, "What do you want?"

"Watch your tone, or we might reconsider selling you the drones," Vincent Holloway threatened.

Nathan scoffed. "Get over yourself! Who said we even want your drones?"

Vincent paused. "Your boss, obviously. We just received an order from your purchasing department. Or is this some kind of scam?"

Nathan inhaled sharply. "So you're telling me Dominic instructed the purchasing department to order drones?"

"Exactly. Didn’t you know?" Vincent chuckled mockingly. "And here I thought your boss trusted you. Guess you’re not as important as you thought." He hung up before Nathan could retort.

Furious, Nathan stormed into Dominic Blackwood’s office to verify.

Dominic barely glanced up from his screen. "We give gifts to employees every Harvest Festival. This year, it’s drones. Got a problem with that?"

Nathan stiffened. "No, sir. Just... surprised."

"Decided last night," Dominic said casually. "Even though Evelyn and I aren’t on speaking terms, her company makes decent products." He’d never forget being chased by one of those drones—or getting drenched outside her house days ago.

Technology evolved, and he saw no harm in sharing it with his employees.

Nathan clenched his fists. "Vincent called earlier. I might have been... less than polite. Should I smooth things over?"

Dominic waved a dismissive hand.

Half an hour later, Nathan and the purchasing manager arrived at Thornfield Industries.

Evelyn Thorne and Vincent greeted them in the conference room.

"Five thousand drones by the Harvest Festival?" Vincent crossed his arms. "That’s a massive order. Doubt we can fulfill it in time." He smirked. "Unless you’re willing to make concessions."

Nathan’s jaw tightened. Who does this guy think he is? We’re the clients! Thornfield isn’t the only drone supplier in Eldermere.

"How many can you deliver?" Nathan demanded. "We’ll take what you have and source the rest elsewhere."

Vincent raised a brow. "Is that what your boss said?"

The purchasing manager leaned in, whispering urgently, "Mr. Cross, Mr. Blackwood specifically wants Thornfield’s drones."

Nathan grabbed his water glass, knuckles white.

Vincent continued, "If you insist on five thousand, we’ll pull stock from overseas branches—but the price won’t stay at $19,999 per unit. It’ll increase."

Nathan’s blood boiled. "Hold on. I need to call Dominic."

As he dialed, Evelyn sipped her water calmly.

Vincent wasn’t wrong. Their factories couldn’t produce five thousand drones overnight. Importing stock meant taxes, shipping costs—and higher overseas market prices.

Nathan struggled to stay professional. Clients were supposed to be kings, not beggars.

He relayed the terms to Dominic, voice strained.

"Nathan," Dominic’s voice cut like ice. "Do I look like I can’t afford Evelyn’s drones?"

"Sir, that’s not—they’re extorting us!"

Evelyn tapped the table, gesturing for the phone.

Nathan adjusted his glasses. "Mr. Blackwood, Miss Thorne wants to speak to you."