Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 228: The Showdown]

Ryan and Donald Trump walked into the Spanish colonial-style interior of the club, where a grand banquet hall awaited them. Trump led Ryan to a more private meeting room.

"I want to hear your plan," Trump greeted, eager as he gestured for Ryan to sit down.

Ivanka sat nearby, sulking. Her father had decided to exclude her right from the start, and she couldn't feel happy about it.

"The nightclub brand is going to operate along two lines. You'll find suitable stores in major city districts, between 5,000 to 10,000 square feet. Larger venues aren't on the table for now. I'll be launching the brand, contacting suppliers, and signing franchise agreements..." Ryan outlined his proposal.

"That's a no-go. I need to be involved in the operation; otherwise, there's nothing to discuss," Donald Trump flatly dismissed Ryan's suggestion.

With years of experience in the business world, he didn't want to serve as the young man's stepping stone.

"Let me propose a more practical partnership," Trump pondered. "I'll handle the stores, you take charge of the suppliers. We'll promote the brand together, and I'll also handle the franchise agreements. We can co-invest, with you holding 20% of the share."

That was a exorbitant price!

Ryan scoffed, sensing Donald Trump's excessive confidence.

"Ryan, your business is way too small. Honestly, I'm not impressed. I'm aiming to create a global entertainment brand. I have investments and commercial properties in over a dozen countries. My shows reach tens of millions of viewers. I have the same recognition as you, and I'm a businessman. What are you? You're just a star; let the professionals handle professional matters."

"Tens of millions of viewers? I looked up the ratings for your show, The Apprentice, and the last season averaged only 7 million viewers, right?" Ryan immediately called out the discrepancy.

"That's just from the last season; I'm talking about total viewership numbers," Donald Trump shrugged.

"People trust me more, a savvy businessman, rather than you, some inexperienced kid. So I should lead the project; only I can make it happen, because I'm established in the industry. I have my handprints on the Walk of Fame; do you? I could have my models as guests and involve Miss Universe, things others can't pull off. No one is better suited than me," Donald Trump began to play his hand.

"Can Miss Universe dance? I don't think so. This is a nightclub, electronic music; it's something fresh, and you just don't get it," Ryan shook his head.

"It's just the same old wine in new bottles," Donald Trump disagreed.

"You don't understand anything."

"When your mom was still in school, I was already in court against the feds. Nothing new under the sun," Trump smiled.

"Well, negotiations are done," Ryan replied, shaking his head.

"Young man, this deal is trivial to me, but it's different for you. You rely on this to make a living. However, seeing as you approached me, I'm willing to throw in an extra 10% for you -- as a friendly gesture. This is my final offer; think it over."

"I won't consider it; there are other real estate companies," Ryan directly rejected.

He thought of APG, but that company had a deep background. In contrast, Donald Trump was more of a cutthroat businessman, making him more manageable.

But he wasn't in a rush; he could afford to wait for a more suitable partner before moving ahead with the project.

...

"Dad, this isn't fair to Ryan!" Ivanka suddenly interjected.

"Keep quiet while I'm talking business," Donald Trump reprimanded.

"Why can't I speak up? Without me, there wouldn't be any partnership!" Ivanka mumbled back.

"I said be quiet!" Donald Trump said, visibly irritated.

"Dad, we need this project. We can borrow from the bank to ease our liquidity pressure. Do you really want to apply for bankruptcy for the sixth time?" Ivanka challenged, feeling her father was being overly hostile -- not only to her but also to Ryan. She didn't understand where this animosity was coming from.

Filing for bankruptcy wasn't an escape; if it were that simple, every businessman would keep applying for it. In reality, bankruptcy meant losing a limb, going through liquidation. Donald Trump's previous bankruptcies had wiped out his initial investments and left behind a lot of bad debt, costing him ownership of various properties.

"The sixth bankruptcy?" Ryan suddenly caught onto a key piece of information.

Donald Trump had already been standing on the edge of a cliff, and his so-called confidence was just a facade; his cavalier attitude was merely a cover for insecurity.

"It's just some bad debt; it's merely the subsidiaries that filed for bankruptcy. My other businesses remain unaffected. The profits I'm entitled to are already secured, and I've managed to relocate many assets," Donald Trump shook his head, trying to downplay the situation.

"Then let's terminate our collaboration. The risks of partnering with you are way too high," Ryan realized it was unnecessary to work with Donald Trump anymore.

"I don't want to wake up one day and find our joint venture owned by your creditors," Ryan added.

Donald Trump shot Ivanka a glare; she had just compromised his position.

"Your worries are unfounded. All my operations are distinct; let's say every other project fails, that won't affect our partnership," Donald Trump grinned.

"Where there's smoke, there's fire. I understand that," Ryan replied calmly.

"Nobody understands bankruptcy better than me." Donald Trump's facade began to crumble; his grin was now strained.

Ryan took his time to present his conditions. "Considering our future growth, the new company must be under my control."

"Not a chance." Donald Trump shook his head. "You never truly wanted to collaborate; you're into my daughter, trying to woo her while also invading her space. I've noticed!"

"What are you talking about, Dad? Ryan is engaged to Taylor!" Ivanka felt a rush of embarrassment, glancing at Ryan.

"You're infuriating me! I can reveal your affairs to the media and your public image will be ruined," Donald Trump escalated the threats.

"It won't be me who's damaged; it'll be your daughter," Ryan retorted, unfazed.

"Is that so? You should pay attention to what the papers say tomorrow. I have plenty of friends at NBC; your news will spread nationwide overnight!" Donald Trump laughed coldly.

...

As Ryan left, Ivanka wanted to see him off but was yanked back by her father.

"This kid has bad intentions. Can't you see? You need to stay away from him! You've disappointed me today. If it weren't for you, I could have sealed the deal! You caused me to lose a significant amount of money!" Donald Trump whispered urgently, gripping his daughter's arm.

"So to make more money, you'll use your daughter as a weapon and drag her into the mud, huh? And it was your daughter who took the initiative to introduce you to him!" Ivanka shot back fiercely.

"That's not dragging anyone through the mud; I'm just voicing his true intentions."

"I'll say it again: he has no interest in me!"

"Regardless, don't let me see you two together!"

"Who are you to interfere? You don't take care of yourself; how many women have you been with? Real estate mogul!" Ivanka scoffed. "You're that type, so you think all men are the same."

"You understand nothing. I've been too good to you, and you've let me down. Look at other kids; they're taking over their parents' companies, they're exploring new avenues! What are you doing? Chasing your dreams as a designer? Causing trouble for your father? I want to retire, but none of you have what it takes, all a bunch of useless kids!" Donald Trump exploded.

"Yeah, your kids have their own ideas, yet you keep blocking them and call us useless! I should be indifferent like my brother was because you're a scumbag, from beginning to end!" Ivanka clenched her jaw, her anger palpable. In the next instant, Donald Trump slapped her across the face, leaving a distinct mark.

"Get out!"

"I didn't want to come in the first place!" Ivanka spun around to leave.

After just a couple of steps, she paused, turning back. "Thank you for your concern; I won't be following your arrangements anymore."

"Don't you dare ask for my help," Donald Trump sneered.

"Oh, and who I choose to spend time with is my freedom."

With a slam, the meeting room door closed. Donald Trump leaned against his forehead and called a servant in. "Get a doctor over here and bring me some blood pressure meds!"

Donald Trump loved to brag about his health; it was indeed better than many older folks, but he wasn't Superman. Otherwise, he wouldn't need to send three of his underlings to snatch the White House doctor's medical reports.

...

After leaving the place, Ryan got on the van, heading straight back to Bad Room. The moment he arrived at the office, Teresa followed him in.

"Where did you go this morning?" Teresa asked as she poured coffee for Ryan.

"I discussed a new project with someone."

"A new project?" Teresa's interest was piqued.

"McDonald's," Ryan shrugged, talking about the concept for the mental health club.

"I went to Donald Trump as a partner; his daughter made the introduction."

"Then he should have agreed by now, right?"

"Well, no. He was aggressive and kept pressuring me," Ryan chuckled.

"Are you going to agree to him?"

"Definitely not. It's just his tactic. By the latest tomorrow, he'll call and agree to my terms," Ryan stated.

Ryan had used Donald Trump's tricks before, especially when securing the Winter Music Conference, but clearly, Donald Trump had perfected his game. Ryan thought it wise to learn from him.

...

Ryan didn't have to wait until the next day; that night, Donald Trump called.

"Ryan, this is your last chance: collaborate or become enemies, it's all in your hands," Donald Trump pressured.

"Save it. I know what you're after; I need control," Ryan responded calmly.

Control meant absolute power. Ryan could arrange things however he wanted, leaving Donald Trump entirely in a passive position.

A three-second silence followed.

"Okay, you win, you cheeky brat! You're lucky to be in this position; had it been at a different time, the situation would be entirely different."

"I will form a subsidiary, and this Spirit Club must sign a property cooperation agreement with that subsidiary, and it'll be the only property partner for ten years."

"Trying to get funding from the bank with this company, huh?"

"No, no, no, the specifics are complicated. Just do as I say," Donald Trump never exposed weaknesses to anyone.

"Second, as I said before, my daughter cannot be involved in any way."

"I've mentioned that who steps forward is your choice, but things are different now; I can't guarantee anything regarding personnel," Ryan replied.

The fault lay solely with Donald Trump's greed; if he'd been straightforward with Ryan from the start, they wouldn't have arrived at this point.

"Let her gain some experience; that's not a problem," Donald Trump backtracked.

Then Donald Trump expressed hope that Ryan would kick off the project quickly, preferably announcing it this month. Clearly, he was anxious. Ryan understood the principle that the longer a situation drags on, the more possibilities, worries, or uncertainties are, so this move was also in his own interest.

"Alright then." In the clubhouse, Donald Trump hung up.

...

At that moment, Trump stood alone in the hallway, looking out at the vast sea through the window.

Donald Trump didn't go home; instead, he dialed another number. "Jared? I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, just wanted to check in on you. Ivanka talks about you all the time. Yes, I'm not kidding."

"So, you just met up... struggling with real estate development in Miami? Need cash? Why didn't you call me sooner? I could help."

"Ivanka's not a kid anymore; you better pick up the pace. Want me to show you how to win a girl's heart? You're welcome to visit me anytime."

There was a time when Donald Trump hardly interacted with Jared, not because he didn't want to but because he felt it was his daughter's matter.

But the situation changed completely; if he didn't intervene, his daughter would be swept away by the wolves. In contrast, Donald Trump's perception of Jared grew more favorable. Ideally, Ryan would back off. If that didn't happen, Donald Trump would force Ivanka to marry Jared instead of letting Ryan win.

He was about to wage a war for his daughter!

...

At the same time, three female guests arrived at Bad Room. These three women towered over most, in their high heels, standing out in their stylish outfits. As soon as they appeared, they caught the attention of nearby men. On their way to the private booths guided by a waiter, several men attempted to strike up conversations.

"Sorry, my husband will be here shortly," Anne Vyalitsyna shook her head to dismiss the advances.

"Real husband or fake one? If you don't mind, I can fill in tonight," a young man grinned, confidently approaching.

"Is that so?" Anne narrowed her eyes, sizing him up. "Your outfit adds up to less than 500 bucks; that Rolex on your wrist is fake. I'm guessing you're a student at the University of Florida, right? Have you paid off your student loans? Just copying others to pick up girls!"

"Uh..." The young man's smile faltered, unsure how Anne had seen through him.

"I've seen more men than you have women on your hard drive. Don't waste your time," Anne jabbed.

That superior air instantly drained the young college student of all confidence; he fled in embarrassment.

...

"How did you figure that out?" Karlie Kloss asked after he left.

"The ones looking over from a distance are his friends; one of them wore a Florida baseball cap," Anne replied casually, arms crossed.

Rosie smiled slightly, unfazed.

"You encounter hundreds of these wannabes each year. Do you know the easiest way to deal with men? Hit them where it hurts -- their pride. Young lady, you have much to learn," Anne noted.

The three models had now entered the booth.

"So, are we just waiting here?" Karlie asked, wondering about their upcoming plan.

"Absolutely not! You call Ryan and say you've reached Bad Room and want to see him," Anne stated confidently, crossing her long legs, catching the waiter's attention. Her striking appearance, enhanced by her deliberately chosen outfit and long, slender legs, drew everyone's gaze.

"He's probably busy at this hour," Karlie hesitated.

"Then we'll wait; he'll come eventually," Anne replied, her confidence unwavering.

*****

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