Chapter 233

After the whole autograph debacle, Stanley still wasn’t done. He launched into a new round of complaints–this time, about his pitiful paycheck.

“We made you guys a few hundred million dollars, and you’re giving me three million? How the hell does that add up!”

Nicolas let out a soft sigh, sounding like a disappointed dad. “Stanley….you’re still too young. You don’t understand how expensive running a business really is.”

“Oh really?” Stanley sneered. “How expensive could it possibly be?”

Unfazed, Nicolas began calmly listing expenses like he was teaching a finance seminar. “You only see the hundreds of millions in revenue. But have you considered the massive costs? How many employees are on payroll!

“Your latest album made 150 million, sure–but I paid Noelle 30 million in royalties alone. That’s just licensing fees. What about marketing? Promotion! Online and offline campaigns? Logistics? Distribution? You think all that comes for free!

“Then there’s the whole post-production team, which isn’t small, by the way. When you divide it all up, the actual profit isn’t nearly as big as it looks. Honestly, I pulled some strings just to get you a slightly higher cut. Your other two bandmates didn’t even get as much as you.”

His tone was calm, persuasive–even logical.

Stanley suddenly found himself running out of ammunition.

But something still felt off. He grumbled, “Then why did you pay Noelle that much? Thirty million!! That’s like three million per song! It’s not like she’s some legendary composer or something. And come on, you two are a couple. Isn’t that just transferring money from one pocket to the other? Why even bother paying her?”

At that, Nicolas’s smile vanished.

He straightened up, voice crisp and serious. “Stanley, that’s not how things work. Even brothers settle accounts fairly–what’s due to Noelle, she earns. Just because she’s my partner doesn’t mean her work gets discounted. Her songs are worth every penny. You think you’d be this popular singing someone else’s lyrics? Half of your three million is thanks to her, and now you want to complain? That’s not just ungrateful, it’s insulting!”

Stanley felt like he’d just been slapped with a guilt stick. Nicolas was giving him that classic “I’m not angry, just disappointed” look, and it made his blood boil.

When he came in, Stanley had been ready to tear into Nicolas with righteous fury. But now? Somehow he was the one in the wrong.

“And about those 1,000 autographs,” Nicolas continued, his tone light but unmistakably authoritative. “That’s part of your job. If you slack off, we can dock your pay.”

Stanley stood there fuming, practically radiating frustration.

He opened his mouth to snap back, but couldn’t even form the words. Nothing came out. His righteous fire had been doused by a tsunami of twisted logic.

Nicolas gave him a casual wave. “Alright, that’s enough. Go sign those autographs and deliver them to Noelle. I’ve already lost 30 million dollars just standing here listening to you complain.”

Stanley turned and stormed out, fists clenched, face stormy.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Nicolas couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Seriously,” he thought, “are all of Noelle’s friends this entertaining? It’s like being gifted an endless supply of comedy content!”

Just as he was about to call Noelle and fill her in on Stanley’s tantrum, his phone buzzed. An incoming call.

He glanced at the screen. It was his relatives.

Nicolas' smile faded. His eyes narrowed slightly as he answered the call. “Hello!”