Ron Meyer, president of Universal Pictures, spit out bad things about Wall Street, making the boss in a bad mood boring.
"Hahaha!" The other subordinates laughed loudly.
"What are you talking about?" Little Bronfman looked up.
"I said these mediocre people..."
"No, what did you just say about two nine cents?" Little Bronfman interrupted.
"Sirens Coffee..."
"share price?"
"Uh..." Ron Meyer was speechless, "I mean the price of a cup of Siren Coffee, $2.95."
"Ah!?" Little Bronfman gave a very interesting expression on this matter, "Is it so cheap?"
"Uh……"
"No?" Little Bronfman asked the other people who were stunned. "It's cheap...?"
Chicago 1990https://
Chicago 1990 Chapter 1196: ?Mira's trouble
The discussion about the price of coffee came to an abrupt end, because news came from Canada that the old father was hospitalized with a sudden myocardial infarction, and the young Bronfman immediately hurried home.
Citibank negotiators watched the huge convoy drive away from the headquarters building, and took a note from the secretary from behind.
"A+ copyright and investment management company is willing to buy our Shilla Fund for $50 million?"
He read it casually, and quickly reflected the hidden meaning in it, and couldn't help but sneer, "A reward for negotiating with the Bronfman family? Or buying terms? That miscellaneous... Has the mixed-blood upstart swelled to this point?"
What is enough money for Citigroup? Moreover, the fund products are not in the same department, and the boss of the other party is even his own internal competitor! That nger's flattery was destined to hit the horse's leg.
Of course, I don't know what the big boss would think. Anyway, the conversation with the little Bronfman fell apart. This matter has nothing to do with him. He tore the note to pieces contemptuously.
In Highland Park, Song Ya just signed a document, approving the money, 500,000 dollars, "Go and show it to my personal accountant, he will do it." Return the document to Old Mike, "Just take a moment. Flower, old man."
"For half a year, I think we won't be able to come back for a while." Old Mike scanned the empty study room. We are almost ready to move out, waiting for Song Ya and Shakira on June 1st. When people set off for Europe, construction companies will settle in.
"Ok."
Song Ya didn’t ask any more. When the old Mike left and continued to work on finishing work, Poly Gold refused to contact. The 300 million in cash in his hand successively invested tens of millions of dollars in China and donated more than 100 million soft sister coins. , Chase and Citigroup 150 million, there are other miscellaneous expenses for the decoration here, unknowingly there are less than 100 million left, and I also have to spend some time, "What can I do?" He checked the phone and answered. Record the machine and call back to O'Grady who left the message.
O'Grady, who is in charge of stock investment affairs, did not know that he invested the money in fund products of other banks. "Bloomberg News said that the old Bronfman suffered a myocardial infarction."
"Is it upset by my son's financing? Haha." Song Ya was viciously happy.
"Alright? Little Bronfman should have gotten a lot of funds from financial institutions and Jewish consortia. I think he did a good job overall." O'Grady said.
"Oh."
Indeed, I have been paying close attention here, and the little Bronfman has surpassed most of the rich three generations in running around. "If the old man really hangs up... Isn't the Seagram Group really the only one who has the final say? ?"
"Almost, his brothers and sisters are all raised by the old man using the foundation as pigs. Only an uncle is responsible for part of the business affairs of the wine industry, which is considered competent, but both father and son are very defensive and do not pose a big threat. Old Bronfman The transfer of tax avoidance assets to him is almost completed...Two-thirds of them should be there." O'Grady replied.
"Bad news, isn't it?" So when the little Bronfman takes care of Polygon, and the old man hangs up, he will be more powerful when his attention comes back.
"Probably, but it also depends. This is not a feudal era. Sons cannot fully inherit everything from their elders, such as loyalty."
"Get out, get out!"
In Canada in the north, the little Bronfman who rushed to the hospital overnight rushed into the ward. He roared and drove away the two sisters with abnormal brains and the lamas they had found. "Father..." Then he walked to his father in a complicated mood. Before the bed.
"I'm okay, it's okay, I'm sick."
The old man was in a good state, half lying on the bed, and a little gaunt and old. Seeing the muddy eyes of the baby son, he immediately lit up, as if he had seen the only light in life, he managed to raise his hands, "Little Edgar, see you are so nice."
The father and son embraced affectionately. "What does the doctor say here?" Little Bronfman asked the family doctor next to him.
"Need to rest, and there should be no more violent fluctuations in mood." The other party replied, "I will wait for a meeting to discuss follow-up treatment plans."
"That's good." Little Bronfman sat down by the bed.
"I said it's okay. Go and keep busy. I just need to watch it in the news." The old man smiled.
"Neither Chase nor Citigroup can agree."
"It's okay, don't worry, don't let others see you are in a hurry, doing business is like this..."
"I know that."
Further north in Alaska, Cassidy also saw her father, bald police officer Vick McGee, who was waiting at the gate of the city hall again. "Daddy! Are you busy with the case again?"
"Yeah... Actually it was the same one last time. The criminal has not been caught." Vic replied, and the two happily embraced.
"Alaska is a society of acquaintances. It is impossible for the strangers here to not be noticed by the residents. Do I need to ask the chief of the city police to send someone to cooperate?"
Cassidy drove her father into the car, "eat first?" She took out her mobile phone and called the restaurant locator.
"Okay, wow, assistant mayor ah?" Vic teased his daughter, "Are you a big man here."
"How come, but this is a small town, everyone treats me very well."
Cassidy took a seat and dialed the police chief.
"No." Vic pulled the phone out of her ear. "The criminal I am chasing may be in the mining area. The police station here cannot help. Now I just want to have dinner with my daughter in peace."
"Be careful, Daddy, where's your partner?"
"It's in the mining area, I'll rush to meet later." Vic replied.
"Ok."
Los Angeles, Beverly Hills, Mila was once again invited, dressed in evening clothes, holding her agent Hayden, and stepping into the luxurious villa that originally belonged to Eddie Murphy.
"Oh, Mila, Mila, my dear Milla."
The new owner, former Prime Minister Lazarenko of Ermao, greeted him in Russian, and politely raised his arms, "It's a great honor to take you to meet some friends."
"Uh……"
Hayden hesitated and was stopped by Mila's wink. She changed hands to hold the opponent. Lazarenko was a standard Russian official and oligarch. His eyes were straightforward, and Mila was domineering away from Hayden. Lead away and socialize at the party.
"Did you notice his ankle?"
Hayden was hanging from a distance, not daring to let Mira out of sight. At present, Lazarenko is just looking for the most popular hometown actress here to support his face, except that the method of'invitation' is too rude, other Ok.
Soon, he ran into Lazarenko's neighbor Daniel, and the two of them stared far away and whispered.
"What happened to the ankle?" Hayden asked.
"There are electronic shackles. Look over there..." Daniel screamed at the man in a suit who was sitting on the sofa in the lobby and was eating. "It should be fbi, or someone from the local police."