Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs - Chapter 578

Chapter 578: Strategic Positioning
Sterling Hotels was a $10 billion empire.

Not the biggest in hospitality—Marriott and Hilton still dominated by sheer scale—but Sterling had carved out something more valuable than size: prestige. Their chain of boutique hotels sat at the intersection of luxury and exclusivity, the kind of properties where CEOs held discreet meetings and celebrities stayed when they wanted privacy more than Instagram backdrops.

Fifty-three properties across North America alone. Each one meticulously curated, each one printing money.

Edward Sterling had built this empire over eighteen years, starting with a single boutique hotel in Boston funded by his inheritance from the Sterling patriarch. While his older siblings had gone into banking and real estate development, Edward had seen opportunity in the hospitality sector’s shift toward experiential luxury.

He’d been right.

The company had grown from that single property to a portfolio worth billions, with Edward holding the controlling stake—45% of all shares. His brother owned another 20%, keeping the majority firmly within Sterling family control.

The remaining 35% was split among private investors who’d bought in during various expansion rounds. Four major investors, each holding between 6%, 13% and 12%, plus one smaller stakeholder with 4%.

Or at least, there had been one with 4%.

The board consisted of six members: Edward as Chairman and CEO, his brother as CFO, and four representatives from the major investor groups. The 4% stakeholder had never warranted a board seat—too small to demand one, too small to matter in major decisions.

Which made it the perfect entry point.

Sterling Hotels had a reputation for conservative growth and premium service. Edward ran the company like he ran everything else in his life—with absolute control and zero tolerance for disorder. Quarterly earnings were consistent, properties were maintained to perfection, and the Sterling name meant something in hospitality circles.

The company was Edward’s baby, his legacy separate from the larger Sterling family empire. While his siblings built their fortunes in other sectors, Edward had created something distinctly his own. Something he could point to and say: I built this.

Which was exactly why taking it from him would hurt so fucking much.

The Sterling family was old money, tentacles in banking, real estate, politics. But Sterling Hotels? That was Edward’s personal kingdom, the thing that made him more than just another trust fund heir coasting on family name.

Destroying it wouldn’t cripple the Sterling family—they were too diversified, too entrenched—but it would destroy Edward specifically. It would take the one thing he’d built with his own vision and strategic decisions, the achievement that separated him from his siblings’ inherited portfolios.

And he’d invited me right in.

The 4% stake that had just become available was small enough to be beneath Edward’s concern. He’d probably signed off on the sale without much thought, trusting his lawyers and board members to vet the new investor.

They had no idea what was coming.

Sometimes the easiest way to make a man give up willingly is to offer him more money.

If that doesn’t work, you offer him money and threats.

That’s how I got one investor to withdraw from Sterling Hotels.

The guy had owned 4% – about $400 million worth at their $10 billion valuation. Solid position, quarterly dividends rolling in, no reason to sell unless someone made it very worth his while.

I made it very worth his while.

“Master,” ARIA had said when I’d outlined the plan, “you want me to offer him how much over market value?”

Fifty percent premium. $600 million for a $400 million stake.

“That’s… generous.”

That’s business. And if he says no, we move to Plan B.

Plan B involved ARIA digging into his other investments and finding pressure points, mistresses, buried crimes. The kind of information that wouldn’t destroy him but would make his life significantly more complicated if it reached the wrong ears.

The investor – some private equity guy from Boston – had taken the deal and done exactly what I’d suggested: recommended a buyer to Sterling Hotels’ board. A man known as Eros Velmior Desiderion who could purchase his stake at the agreed price.

Edward Sterling and his brother weren’t idiots. They didn’t just let anyone buy into their company, especially not some mysterious investor offering above-market rates. That kind of eagerness screamed either desperation or manipulation.

So they did their due diligence. Background checks. Financial verification. Reference calls.

And that’s where my deal with Sofia’s father paid off in ways even I hadn’t fully anticipated.

Delgado Construction had been struggling. Not failing, but stuck – too small to compete for major contracts like BioLa, too proud to accept being a perpetual subcontractor. When I’d approached Mr. Delgado with information about how Jack Morrison had been systematically abusing his daughter, the man had nearly had a stroke.

“He did WHAT to my Sofia?”

I’d shown him everything. The psychological abuse, the public humiliation, the way Jack used their families’ business relationship as leverage to keep Sofia trapped. Watching a father’s face cycle through shock, rage, and guilt had been almost uncomfortable.

Almost.

“Why are you telling me this?” he’d asked, voice shaking.

“Because I’m going to marry your daughter someday, and I don’t want my future father-in-law partnered with the family that hurt her.”

He’d stared at me like I was insane. Then he’d started laughing – that bitter, broken kind of laugh.

“What do you want?”

“Two things. First, end any partnership discussions with Morrison Construction. Second, let me introduce you to Torres Developments for a real opportunity.”

The Torres-Delgado partnership had been Madison’s idea, executed brilliantly. Her father needed a reliable construction partner for their massive site development since they were already stretched in BioLa deal – the location where Liberation Holdings would eventually house all our operations. Delgado needed the kind of high-profile project that would legitimize them as a major player.

It was a multi-billion-dollar contract. The kind of opportunity Delgado Construction would never have gotten through Morrison Constructions, who would’ve used them as cheap labor while taking all the credit and profit.

Mr. Delgado had wept when he signed the contract.

And in exchange? I got to use Delgado Construction’s name on my portfolio. Along with Morrison Constructions since I owned part of it too now and Rivera Next Media (my partnership with the Empress).

When Sterling Hotels’ board made their verification calls, they got glowing confirmations from three major companies. Delgado praised Eros as a visionary investor. Rivera Next Media confirmed ongoing business relationships. Morrison Constructions verified a 15% ownership.

The portfolio I’d presented wasn’t just solid – it was airtight proof of capability and legitimacy.

Edward Sterling had slept soundly after that background check, confident his company was bringing on a legitimate minority investor with excellent connections.

Little did he know this investor with shares too small to even seat on the board was here to swallow his entire company.

If Edward lost it, the Sterling family would be embarrassed but not destroyed. Their reputation would take a hit, but their overall power structure would remain intact.

Which didn’t mean they wouldn’t put up a fight if their son was threatened. The Sterlings protected their own, even the less important branches.

But I was playing the long game.

I couldn’t be reckless with a family that big, that connected. But I also didn’t need to be. Sterling Hotels was Edward’s baby, his legacy separate from the family empire. Taking it from him would hurt him specifically while minimizing collateral damage to the larger Sterling network.

Surgical strike. Personal destruction without declaring war on the entire family.

The shares I’d bought weren’t even in my name, although I was the front man buying. The purchase contract had a clause – hidden deep in the legal language that only ARIA could navigate perfectly – stating that the shares were acquired on behalf of an entity known as Ashby Rousseau.

Which meant Liberation Holdings.

That purchase had happened Thursday, right after I’d made sure each of my women had signed the Liberation Holdings documents.

The meeting had been… interesting.

“You want us to sign what?” Isabella had asked, looking at the contract like it might bite her.

“Documents tying you to Liberation Holdings. Making you part owners and beneficiaries.”

“This isn’t about control?” Victoria had been suspicious, naturally.

“It’s about protection and growth. Everything Liberation Holdings owns, you own a piece of. Everything you own, Liberation Holdings helps protect and expand.”

One by one, they’d read the contracts. And one by one, they’d added their own clause – an ultimatum I hadn’t expected but probably should have.

They’d signed over their businesses, their shares, their assets to Liberation Holdings management. Willingly. Completely.

“If we’re doing this,” Madison had said, speaking for the group, “we’re all in. No half measures. You protect us, we trust you with our everything.”

Charlotte and Madison were the main characters of Liberation Holdings, holding 35% each currently. The structure was complex but brilliant:

Liberation Holdings now owned shares in Morrison Constructions and Sterling Hotels (4%). Through its ownership structure, all my women technically owned pieces of those investments.