Rebirth: My Reclusive Husband Helps Me Get Revenge!
Chapter 107

Chapter 107: 107

The senior executives had been in and out of meetings since dawn, and the situation was only getting worse.

Seated behind his desk, Mo Ran exuded his usual air of cold authority, his gaze sharp as he skimmed through the latest reports. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up just slightly—a rare sign that things were far from calm.

"President Mo, the European partners are pushing back on the agreement," one of the senior managers reported, standing stiffly in front of him. "They’re claiming the projected profit margins are no longer sustainable under the current terms and are hinting at withdrawing unless we renegotiate."

Mo Ran didn’t look up, merely flipping to another page of the report. His expression remained unreadable, but the rhythmic tap of his index finger against the desk signaled his growing impatience.

"And when exactly did they develop this sudden concern?" His voice was calm—too calm.

The manager hesitated. "Late last night, sir. They sent over a revised proposal early this morning."

Mo Ran finally lifted his gaze, his dark eyes glinting with something icy. "Let me get this straight. They entered an agreement with full knowledge of the projected figures, benefited from our expansion, and now that we’re gaining traction, they suddenly feel the terms are unfair?"

The room was silent. No one dared to speak.

Mo Ran leaned back, exhaling slowly as he closed the folder in front of him. "Tell them this—our terms were agreed upon after extensive discussions, and we have upheld our end of the deal. If they are choosing to withdraw, they will be subject to the penalty fees outlined in the contract."

"Understood, President Mo."

The manager was about to turn and leave when another voice spoke up. "Sir, there’s also an issue with the North American project."

Mo Ran’s eyes flicked toward the speaker, his fingers pausing their movement. "What issue?"

"An unexpected licensing delay. The legal team has been going back and forth with the regulatory board, but there’s been no progress. If this continues, our production timeline will be severely impacted."

Mo Ran’s jaw tightened slightly. "Where is the delay coming from?"

"According to our sources, a particular official is stalling the approval process. We suspect external influence, but we don’t have concrete proof yet."

Mo Ran’s expression turned colder. "Find out exactly who’s behind it. I want a full report within the hour. If this is someone’s attempt at leverage, they’ll regret it."

The room seemed to drop a few degrees in temperature.

"Yes, President Mo."

The executives hurriedly exited, leaving Mo Ran alone in his office.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. The day had barely started, and already, there were fires to put out in multiple regions. He knew managing an empire came with its burdens, but even he found it tiresome when people tried to play these games with him.

His gaze drifted toward the city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It stretched endlessly, bathed in the morning light, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

His phone sat face-up on the desk, its screen dark and undisturbed.

No calls. No messages.

He resisted the urge to check the time again.

He knew Lixue had a packed schedule today. He knew she was meeting with the executives at Valmont Haute Couture. He knew she was capable of handling things on her own.

And yet, a small frown tugged at the corners of his lips.

It wasn’t as if they were the type to call each other constantly throughout the day, but... it had been hours.

She could have at least sent a text.

He scoffed quietly at himself. Since when did he care about something like this?

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders slightly. He had more pressing matters to deal with.

Still, his eyes flickered back to the phone, a trace of impatience settling in.

Just as Mo Ran picked up the next document on his desk, his office phone rang sharply, breaking the heavy silence. He pressed the speaker button without looking up.

"Speak."

His secretary’s voice came through, tight with urgency. "President Mo, we’ve just received news from the legal department—our patent filing in Country M has been challenged."

Mo Ran’s fingers stilled on the page. "Challenged?"

"Yes, sir. A competing firm has submitted a claim stating that our technology overlaps with their existing patents. The regulatory board has put our approval on hold pending an investigation."

A slow, dangerous silence filled the office.

"Which firm?"

"Zhao Industries."

At that name, a faint flicker of irritation crossed Mo Ran’s face.

Zhao Industries was a persistent nuisance—a second-rate company that had been trying to squeeze into Mo Corporation’s market share for years. But this was the boldest move they had made yet.

"They don’t have the capability to develop anything close to our technology," he said flatly. "They’re stalling."

"That is the assumption, sir, but with the investigation in place, production in Country M will be delayed for at least three months unless we can have the claim dismissed."

Mo Ran closed the folder in front of him with a crisp snap. "Set up a meeting with the legal team immediately. I want every detail on this patent dispute. If they’re trying to play dirty, we’ll bury them in litigation costs before they can even blink."

"Understood, President Mo."

As soon as the call ended, another notification popped up on his phone—an email marked URGENT from the finance department.

Mo Ran’s patience was already thin, but he opened it with practiced efficiency.

His expression darkened the moment he read the contents.

A funding transfer for one of their expansion projects had been delayed—intentionally. The international banking partner they were working with had suddenly changed its internal review policies, citing "compliance concerns" as the reason for the hold.

In other words, someone had whispered in their ear.

Mo Ran immediately dialed the CFO.

The man answered in under two rings. "President Mo, I was just about to—"

"Who pulled the strings?" Mo Ran’s voice was low, cutting straight to the point.

The CFO hesitated for half a second. "We’re still investigating, but preliminary findings suggest an influence from Song Group."

Song Group.

Mo Ran’s fingers drummed once against the desk before stilling.

The Song family had always been involved in underhanded tactics, but to make a move against Mo Corporation directly? They were getting bolder.

"Push back," he ordered. "Leverage our overseas assets to secure alternative funding if necessary. If the bank refuses to cooperate, we’ll sever all ties and make sure the industry knows why. No one in their position will want to risk working with a company that bows to external pressure."

"Understood, sir."

The call ended, but the storm in Mo Ran’s eyes remained.

Three crises. All at once.

Coincidence?

Not likely.

Someone—or multiple parties—were testing his limits today.

His hand pressed against his temple briefly before he let out a short, humorless laugh.

If they wanted to see how far they could push him, then fine.

He’d crush every single one of them.

Mo Ran took a deep breath, his patience thinning by the second. Crises like this weren’t unusual in the corporate world, but for three major disruptions to hit simultaneously? It wasn’t a coincidence. It was a coordinated attack.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he pieced things together. Zhao Industries, Song Group, and now an international bank suddenly shifting policies. These weren’t small players, but none of them had the power to bring Mo Corporation down. They were probing, testing weaknesses.

Well, they wouldn’t find any.

His intercom buzzed again, and this time, his secretary’s voice carried a deeper urgency.

"President Mo, Director Zhang from the logistics department is here. He says it’s an emergency."

Mo Ran exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another problem?

"Send him in."

A moment later, Director Zhang rushed in, sweat beading at his temple despite the air conditioning. He was a veteran in the company, steady and experienced—if he was this agitated, the problem had to be severe.

"President Mo," Zhang started, voice strained, "we have an issue with the supply chain."

Mo Ran’s jaw clenched. "Be specific."

"A major shipment of raw materials meant for our manufacturing plants in the south has been blocked at customs. The officials claim there’s an issue with the documentation, but we submitted everything by the book. It looks like someone pulled strings to delay our goods."

Of course, they had.

"How much is at stake?"

"If the shipment doesn’t clear within the next five days, production will halt, and we’ll miss our contract deadlines with three major retailers. The penalty fees alone—"

"—are unacceptable," Mo Ran finished coldly.

Zhang swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Mo Ran’s gaze was ice. "Who benefits from this delay?"