Read Online Lonzo: Book 1 (Tycoon Series Book 1) by Kat Madrid - Free Book Online
Authors: Kat Madrid
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princess.
She suddenly felt sticky and worn from all the traveling she did. She gingerly closed the door of the bathroom with the very intent of taking a long, warm and reviving bath before going to bed.
Yes, for tonight, she’d imagine herself a princess.
Lonzo briefly closed his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. The throbbing which started while he was at the pre-wedding dinner was now a full-blown migraine attack. He should’ve excused himself earlier and escaped back to his room.
His headache was further aggravated when he read the messages sent by his management team.
As expected, more troubles at Gruppo Milanese, the biggest of which was the burgeoning labor problem. Neglected for a long time by the Agnellis, the employees were very suspicious of his management team and the changes that he wanted to institute in the company. The union was antagonistic and threatened to go on strike.
Lonzo can’t wait for this wedding to be over and done with so he could step back in the ongoing negotiations. It was going to be a hard and arduous process. Those reforms had to be implemented for him to steer the company back to its feet. Somebody’s gotta give.
Agnelli’s underhanded tactics were making things doubly difficult.
The asshole was keen to destroy him in the media—orchestrating rumors that once GM was back in the black, he’d break the company and sell it bit by bit to the highest bidder. He was painted as a heartless bastard who cared nothing about the workforce, except for his bottomline.
They were inciting fear in the hearts of the employees.
He intended to put an end to Agnelli’s allegations.
For one thing, he had no intention of selling Gruppo Milanese. Lonzo recognized the company’s significance to Italy, both economically and historically. It was after all, one of the oldest conglomerates in the country. Unlike the Agnellis who treated the company like a cash cow, he had big plans for the organization—to diversify and make it a global powerhouse.
And he was arrogant enough to know he was the only one who could do that feat. His track record spoke for him. He was considered a Warren Buffet in the making by Wallstreet. He was gifted with the Midas’ touch when it came to making money.
But money was never his motivator. It was the exhilaration he got from big challenges. He always liked the challenge of restructuring dying businesses and making them profitable again. He saw possibilities in rubbish long before others did. With the volatile and tumbling markets, he had seen opportunities. He was into non-traditional investments, like renewable energy, even before it became du jour in business circles.
He had always believed that the future lies in the hands of the brave. He liked taking risks. So far, all his risks paid off. And he grew his assets further, thanks to his highly dynamic management style.
He wasn’t the selfish bastard he was often portrayed to be. At least in the business sense.
He smiled despite himself.
Let his rivals hate. He would bury them one by one once his visions for GM were fulfilled.
He answered several emails, instructed his management team to prepare for an executive committee meeting when he got back and also to arrange for a town hall so he can talk to the employees directly to allay their fears. He would answer their questions and repudiate what their former employers were slinging at him.
It was time they heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.
By the time he closed his laptop, he had delegated and accomplished his tasks for the day. Unfortunately, the throbbing of his head had now escalated into a massive mother of all fucking migraines.
He was about to call it a night when he heard a knock on his door. He went to see who it was.
It was Constanzia. He remembered asking her for a glass of wine on his way up here.
He thanked the majordoma before shutting the door. He took several pain relievers from his overnight bag.
He swallowed
She suddenly felt sticky and worn from all the traveling she did. She gingerly closed the door of the bathroom with the very intent of taking a long, warm and reviving bath before going to bed.
Yes, for tonight, she’d imagine herself a princess.
Lonzo briefly closed his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. The throbbing which started while he was at the pre-wedding dinner was now a full-blown migraine attack. He should’ve excused himself earlier and escaped back to his room.
His headache was further aggravated when he read the messages sent by his management team.
As expected, more troubles at Gruppo Milanese, the biggest of which was the burgeoning labor problem. Neglected for a long time by the Agnellis, the employees were very suspicious of his management team and the changes that he wanted to institute in the company. The union was antagonistic and threatened to go on strike.
Lonzo can’t wait for this wedding to be over and done with so he could step back in the ongoing negotiations. It was going to be a hard and arduous process. Those reforms had to be implemented for him to steer the company back to its feet. Somebody’s gotta give.
Agnelli’s underhanded tactics were making things doubly difficult.
The asshole was keen to destroy him in the media—orchestrating rumors that once GM was back in the black, he’d break the company and sell it bit by bit to the highest bidder. He was painted as a heartless bastard who cared nothing about the workforce, except for his bottomline.
They were inciting fear in the hearts of the employees.
He intended to put an end to Agnelli’s allegations.
For one thing, he had no intention of selling Gruppo Milanese. Lonzo recognized the company’s significance to Italy, both economically and historically. It was after all, one of the oldest conglomerates in the country. Unlike the Agnellis who treated the company like a cash cow, he had big plans for the organization—to diversify and make it a global powerhouse.
And he was arrogant enough to know he was the only one who could do that feat. His track record spoke for him. He was considered a Warren Buffet in the making by Wallstreet. He was gifted with the Midas’ touch when it came to making money.
But money was never his motivator. It was the exhilaration he got from big challenges. He always liked the challenge of restructuring dying businesses and making them profitable again. He saw possibilities in rubbish long before others did. With the volatile and tumbling markets, he had seen opportunities. He was into non-traditional investments, like renewable energy, even before it became du jour in business circles.
He had always believed that the future lies in the hands of the brave. He liked taking risks. So far, all his risks paid off. And he grew his assets further, thanks to his highly dynamic management style.
He wasn’t the selfish bastard he was often portrayed to be. At least in the business sense.
He smiled despite himself.
Let his rivals hate. He would bury them one by one once his visions for GM were fulfilled.
He answered several emails, instructed his management team to prepare for an executive committee meeting when he got back and also to arrange for a town hall so he can talk to the employees directly to allay their fears. He would answer their questions and repudiate what their former employers were slinging at him.
It was time they heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.
By the time he closed his laptop, he had delegated and accomplished his tasks for the day. Unfortunately, the throbbing of his head had now escalated into a massive mother of all fucking migraines.
He was about to call it a night when he heard a knock on his door. He went to see who it was.
It was Constanzia. He remembered asking her for a glass of wine on his way up here.
He thanked the majordoma before shutting the door. He took several pain relievers from his overnight bag.
He swallowed
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