New beginning: Billionaire love story novel Chapter 441

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the pristine golf course, where a group of investors and corporate elites had gathered for a casual round of golf that felt anything but casual. Among them was Frank, the head of Venus Industries, struggling to maintain his composure amid a torrent of backhanded compliments and veiled jabs.

“Good shot, Richard.”

“Thank you, gentleman. After all, golf is the second good thing I am good at other than spending money.”

They all laughed at his jokes.

“Now, Frank, it’s your turn.”

“Of course.” He replied with a smile.

Frank stepped up to the tee, his driver in hand, and tried to block out the chatter from the group behind him as he tried to focus on the ball in front of him. However, it seemed like those gentlemen preferred talking instead of being silent.

“So, Frank,” one of the investors, a sharp-eyed man named Mitchell, called out as he set his ball on the tee. “How’s Venus going these days?”

His focus was shaky, though, as his mind raced with the issues plaguing Venus Industries.

Frank adjusted his stance, gripping the club a little tighter. “It’s going okay,” he replied coolly, his tone betraying none of the frustration brewing inside.

Mitchell let out a low chuckle. “Okay, huh? That’s good to hear. What about that issue with the robot? Heard there was... trouble at the press release.”

Frank paused mid-swing, turned his head slightly, and gave a tight-lipped smile. “It’s been weeks, and we are doing much better. We’re doing damage control,” he said with practiced ease. “But everything’s under control now. We are improving.”

The truth, of course, was far from what he’d just said. Venus Industries was still scrambling to recover from the public fallout of its failed robotic prototype. They hadn’t even filled the vacant lab tech positions yet. Frank had tasked Robert, his headhunter, to find top-tier talent, but progress was painfully slow. Still, there was no way he’d admit any of that here—not in front of these smug, moneyed men who were all too eager to see him fail.

Another investor, a rotund man named Edward, spoke up, his voice tinged with mock curiosity. “You know, I heard Claire Peterson and Alexander Harris were spotted in Las Vegas recently, checking out Harris’s latest hotel. Must’ve been a sight.”

Frank’s grip tightened on his club. He forced a smile. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” Edward continued, placing his ball on the ground. “Apparently, it’s got a completely different vibe from the usual Harris hotels. People are already talking about how innovative it is.”

“And let’s not forget Metacortex’s robot,” chimed in another investor, a wiry man named Graham, adjusting his visor. “I hear they’re doing some incredible things over there. Can’t wait to see how they pull it off.”

Frank’s jaw clenched as their laughter filled the air. He turned his back to them, pretending to focus on his shot. “The only thing Metacortex is good at is creating a scandal, especially their CEO, Claire Peterson,” he said, his voice clipped, “but let’s not forget that Claire’s team does all the work for her. She just reaps the rewards.”

Mitchell, ever the provocateur, chuckled. “At least her projects work, Frank. Unlike Venus the last time we heard about it.”