"I’ll invest in her company," Stan said. "Privately. No public association. Wanhai stays clean."
"Excellent."
"I’ll speak to her this afternoon. Once I’ve seen her numbers directly, you and I can work out the structure."
"Understood."
Grayson allowed himself a small, genuine smile.
"It’s been a pleasure discussing this with you, Stan. Most shareholders would have reacted one of two ways, they’d either dismiss the proposal outright or push Wanhai into a supplier conflict for the sake of short-term gains. You found the path that protects everyone."
"It’s the obvious solution."
Grayson chuckled softly. "It’s only obvious if you understand the supplier dynamics. Most people don’t. You’ve grasped Wanhai’s internal structure far more quickly than I expected."
Stan accepted the compliment with a slight inclination of his head and left it at that.
After the meeting, Grayson personally escorted him through the Wanhai branch.
The tour was unhurried and surprisingly thorough.
They moved through each of the major divisions in turn, corporate strategy, legal affairs, finance, commercial operations, and eventually the cosmetics division they had just been discussing. At each stop, Grayson introduced him to division heads and senior managers.
Most already knew him by name and face.
Some had attended the internal announcement Grayson had issued days earlier. Others had been present at the post-talent-show shareholders’ meeting and recognized him immediately. Regardless, everyone understood one fact clearly.
Stan was Wanhai’s largest individual shareholder.
The respect he received was measured rather than excessive, professional rather than fawning. Exactly as he preferred it.
What made him pause, however, was the brand wall in the central atrium. He slowed almost unconsciously.
Spread across the massive display were more than a hundred logos.
Consumer goods. Light manufacturing. Real estate. Hotels and hospitality. Beauty and cosmetics. Retail chains. Farming. Logistics. Financial services. And dozens of smaller specialized businesses.
Many of the brands were household names. Several enjoyed international recognition.
Wanhai lacked Star Entertainment’s dominance in any single industry, but the sheer breadth of its holdings placed it on comparable footing in terms of overall scale and influence.
Stan walked slowly along the wall.
For perhaps the first time since acquiring the shares, the meaning of forty percent of Wanhai Group ceased to be an abstract number.
Forty percent of this. Forty percent of companies that employed hundreds of thousands of people.
It’s been a while but still hard to come in terms after all this wasn’t just wealth. It was an ecosystem.
Standing a few paces behind him, Grayson watched in silence, wisely choosing not to interrupt.
Eventually, Stan resumed walking.
Employees greeted him with polite professionalism as they passed. He acknowledged each greeting with a brief nod and moved on. He wasn’t there to perform or cultivate popularity. He was there to observe.
And observe he did.
By the time the tour concluded, he understood Wanhai’s rhythm far better than he had after two weeks of reports and briefings. Numbers on paper could only convey so much.
Seeing the organization in motion was different.
At the executive elevator bank, he shook Grayson’s hand. "Thank you."
"My pleasure, Stan."
The elevator doors slid shut.
As the car descended toward the private parking level, Stan found himself thinking not about percentages or valuations, but about responsibility.
Forty percent. The number had sounded impressive when he first heard it.
Now, after walking through the living machinery behind it, it felt heavy.
Not unpleasantly so. Just real.
In the Huracán, before pulling out of the parking bay, Stan brought up Maya’s contact on his phone.
He paused for a moment, considering how to begin.
He could have opened with something softer, a teasing remark, a good morning, the easy warmth between two people who had spent the previous night together.
But what he wanted to discuss was too important to bury beneath pleasantries.
Maya valued directness.
She’d appreciate honesty more than performance. He typed.
Stan: [Maya. I just left Grayson at Wanhai’s Inksea branch. He briefed me on your cosmetics company. Why didn’t you tell me about this?]
He sent the message.
The typing indicator appeared almost immediately.
Thirty seconds later, her reply came.
Maya: [Oh you know Grayson...]
Stan: [Is it that surprising...]
Maya: [Well with your standing it’s not surprising, but it still came as a shocker to me...]
Maya: [I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.]
Maya: [I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.]
Maya: [After everything you’ve already done for me, the Ghost Signal screenplay, the studio deal, the development funding, you’ve done so much, Stan. I have enough capital to get started. I wasn’t desperate for money.]
Another message followed.
Maya: [I approached Wanhai because I needed influence in the cosmetics industry and, eventually, access to a distribution network. That’s something I couldn’t get anywhere else.]
Maya: [And I’ve said it before... I didn’t want to become the woman who’s always asking you for things.]
Stan read the messages twice. The honesty in them was unmistakable. Maya wasn’t scrambling for an excuse. She was telling him the truth.
He had read her correctly. Her independence wasn’t pride born of distrust. It was pride born of self-respect.
She wanted to build something that belonged to her. Something with Maya Zimmerman written on it. Not something people would dismiss as another gift from Stan.
And she had deliberately gone through her family’s channels to avoid creating a visible line back to him.
He respected that. It was one of the reasons he loved her. But independence and partnership weren’t opposites. He typed again.
Stan: [I understand. And I respect the instinct. But here’s what’s actually happening.]
Stan: [If Wanhai openly supports your company, it creates problems with their existing suppliers. Grayson can’t take that risk. The partnership you envisioned isn’t impossible, but it can’t happen right now, not through Wanhai directly.]
Stan: [But I can invest privately. No public connection to Wanhai. No complications. You get support without putting Wanhai into a supplier conflict.]
Stan: [And when your company has established itself in a few years, Wanhai can approach you as they would any proven supplier.]
A few seconds passed.
Then he sent another message.
Stan: [I want to see the entire prospectus. Send it to me on Snapchat. Numbers, projections, sourcing, manufacturing plans, everything. Don’t leave anything out.]
The typing indicator reappeared.
Maya: [Stan, I—]
Then, after several seconds,
Maya: [Okay.]
Another message.
Maya: [Thanks.]
Then:
Maya: [You’re right about the supplier dynamic. I didn’t think that part through completely. I should have.]
Maya: [I’ll send everything tonight. The full prospectus. Financial projections. Sourcing breakdowns. Manufacturing partners. Everything.]
Maya: [You’ll have it before the end of the evening.]
And then:
Maya: [Thank you.]
Maya: [Not just for taking it seriously.]
Maya: [Thank you for not stepping in and taking it away from me.]
Stan smiled faintly.
His fingers moved over the keyboard.
Stan: [I’d never take it away from you, Maya.]
Stan: [I want to help. That’s different.]
The reply came almost instantly.
Maya: [I know.]
Maya: [That’s why I’m sending it.]
Maya: [💕]
The smile lingered. He slipped the phone into his pocket, pressed the ignition button, and listened as the Huracán came to life beneath him.
As he eased out of the parking bay, he reflected that the morning had been unexpectedly productive.
He had gained a much clearer understanding of Wanhai.
He had identified a promising private investment. He had preserved Maya’s independence while finding a way to support her.
And somewhere at the back of his mind lingered the unanswered question of the system upgrade and whatever changes were still taking shape behind the scenes.
Not bad for a single morning.
Stan drove out into the sunlight of Inksea with the quiet satisfaction of a man who had advanced several pieces on the board before noon.
And the day was still young.