Jeff read this and suddenly felt a dark cloud before his eyes—annual production of a hundred thousand units? This might just be the initial capacity.
As an old father of two daughters, at this moment he wished he could fly to Zhou Qingfeng, pull out his checkbook, and put a knife to his throat to force him to accept his investment.
"One billion dollars… no, two billion dollars!" He calculated in his mind, gritting his teeth, "I'm not greedy, just give me a 40% stake!"
The office was eerily quiet, the only sound was his heavy sighs echoing.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights of Miami were gradually lighting up, the bustling nightlife just beginning.
Inside, Jeff's heart was in turmoil. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and a terrifying image appeared in his mind: he might miss out on this wealth feast.
-----------------
Jeff Connally sat in the office chair, his fingers hovering above the phone screen for several seconds.
