"Never. Don't try to spin a false narrative here," Nolan snapped.
Benjamin let out a long, mocking, "Oh," his expression dripping with pure provocation.
Nolan's temper flared. "Mr. White, I'm genuinely curious to hear what rules Cosmos Corporation supposedly broke."
Since Nolan was practically begging for a public execution, Andres was more than happy to oblige. "Did you forget what happened six months ago? A certain foreign luxury brand used a cover model for their new launch who blatantly insulted Stramont."
"It caused a massive public outcry at the time. The entire nation boycotted the brand and the model."
"Yet the company under your name didn't just continue to sell that brand openly—you signed that disgraced model to a three-year contract."
"When faced with national integrity, you only cared about a quick buck."
"Project Skyward doesn't need partners like that."
Reminded by Andres, the memory crashed down on Nolan.
He had personally signed that contract.
Many of his senior executives had begged him to reconsider.
In recent years, the internet had grown merciless. Even the slightest flaw in a celebrity's record would be magnified and shredded by the public.
But Nolan had been sent abroad for his education and had only returned two years ago.
Immersed in Western ideals for so long, he felt pure disdain for his home country's tendency to permanently cancel people over comments.
He actually admired the model who insulted Stramont.
During his college years abroad, they had even shared a few steamy nights.
That was the real reason behind the lucrative contract.
Scrambling, Nolan tried to defend himself. "Mr. White, there's no need to target Cosmos Corporation over a single female artist."

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