In the club’s second-floor office, Vincent lounged on the sofa, pressing the remote control as the television screen flickered between several news channels.
The TV was repeatedly showing dramatic close-ups of the Beast’s Den Club.
Vincent switched through a few more channels, finding that the Beast’s Den frequently appeared in the live news coverage.
The commotion downstairs was substantial, but Vincent remained in his seat. After about half an hour, he had seen numerous features on the Beast’s Den across five different news stations.
The next day, it would undoubtedly dominate the social news headlines.
Regardless of the expense required to achieve such media exposure, according to the regulations in Georgia, the Beast’s Den could not even directly advertise.
Martin Davis, that fool, truly is a talent!
Vincent poured himself a glass of whiskey and savored it slowly.
A knock on the door sounded, and Martin entered, saying, “Boss, there’s a situation.”
Vincent gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat and explain.”
“We just rescued Kelly Grey…” Martin quickly recounted the events.
Vincent inquired, “What’s your take on this?”
Martin replied, “They could become our largest potential client base.”
“Proceed as you see fit.” The previous actions had earned Vincent’s confidence in Martin.
Martin mentioned one last thing, “Media reporters will be arriving soon. Will you handle the interviews, boss?”
Vincent expressed his concern, “I’m not suited for public appearances.”
“Shall I take care of it?” Martin, receiving a clear response from Vincent, went downstairs to meet with a PR representative sent by Kelly and swiftly coordinated to open the club’s doors.
…………
Meanwhile, the back door of the club opened. Including Bruce and Ivan, eight people emerged from the alley and onto West Street, each with their phones searching for their targets.
Mia, a TV reporter, had just wrapped up a busy day and was grabbing a bottle of water from the news van when she noticed a grinning man approaching with a phone.
She said, “The TV station is still working. Please don’t come closer.”
Bruce raised his phone. “I called the news hotline. I’m here to collect the reward.”
Mia replied, “Go to the station tomorrow or leave your email address.”
Bruce, knowing a bit about the process, said, “Don’t waste time. I know you have rewards for handling breaking news.”
Mia was unwilling to discuss further. “It’s against protocol.”
Before coming out, Bruce had been briefed by Martin and said in a lowered voice, “This incident involved the Beast’s Den. I can help you get in touch with someone from the club.”
Mia’s interest was piqued. With the Beast’s Den being the focal point, it would undoubtedly become the center of Atlanta’s social news after tonight.
She took out a $50 check and placed it in front of Bruce. “Do you guarantee it?”
Bruce took the check, glanced at the amount, and pocketed it. “That’s for the previous news. For this story, you need to pay me $100.”
Mia hesitated slightly but handed over a $100 check. Bruce reached for it, but she pulled it back. “You contact them first.”
Bruce dialed Martin’s number, but Hart answered. He handed the phone to Mia. “Someone from the Beast’s Den.”
Martin, that bastard, even expects others to take the fall for him.
Mia spoke briefly with the person on the phone, handed the check to Bruce, and instructed her assistant, “Get the TV van to the Beast’s Den’s front entrance!”
Bruce pocketed the check and swiftly turned into a deep alley.
Mia arrived at the front of the Beast’s Den and heard the loud sound of the club’s door being unlocked.
Colleagues scattered around for interviews gradually gathered.
Mia saw Deck from the Atlanta Constitution and asked, “What are you doing here?”
Deck, initially hesitant, seeing many colleagues arriving, said, “A news tipster connected me with someone from the Beast’s Den.”
Mia’s face darkened. “$100?”
“Are you too?”
“I am!”
“So am I!”
The other reporters echoed the same sentiments, all with disgruntled expressions.
Mia exclaimed, “What a bunch of idiots!”
It was clear that the club’s staff was behind this, but they had to press on with their interviews, unwilling to leave.
The club’s door opened, and Martin stepped out first.
Cameras immediately swiveled in his direction, with reporters visibly excited.
After the interviews, Martin returned to the club.
The PR expert sent by Kelly said, “You did exceptionally well. Contact me immediately if any issues arise.”
Once the PR expert left, Bruce came over and said pointedly, “Buddy, you really are something!”
Martin replied, “As long as it benefits us, I don’t mind sending you to Thailand.”
Bruce gave him the finger, pulled out the check, and asked, “Will the reporters be mad at us for this?”
“Buddy, you’re used to being a gentleman. You haven’t dealt with the media. Let me tell you, when you face them, don’t fear criticism.” Martin was nonchalant. “Do you think by pleasing them, they won’t criticize us? You overestimate them! Let them criticize. Bad press is still press, and the Beast’s Den needs exposure.”
He inquired, “Does the club have a legal advisor? When the media frenzy dies down, we could hold a press conference and send a lawyer’s letter to the Methodist Church. This matter could be spun multiple times.”
Ivan and the others returned with their checks, asking, “How will the bonuses be handled?”
Martin, without lifting his gaze, noticed Vincent at the second-floor railing and said, “Leave it to the boss.”
“Everyone involved tonight gets a share.” Vincent, generous with money that wasn’t the club’s, added, “Martin gets thirty percent, and the rest is divided among you.”
Martin assessed the check amounts with disdain. “You shameless lot, you actually brought back $1200!”
A chorus of middle fingers greeted Martin.
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