The door to Sebastian Thorne's private hospital room slammed shut with enough force to rattle the medical equipment. His sister, Isabelle Cross, stood near the window, her designer handbag clutched tightly in her manicured hands.
"The numbers are catastrophic," she said without preamble. "Our sales dropped another thirty percent overnight."
Sebastian's face twisted with rage despite the bandages covering half of it. "How is that possible? We undercut their prices by twenty percent."
"It doesn't matter," Isabelle replied bitterly. "Their product actually works. Ours is just expensive moisturizer with fancy packaging."
"Then we stop playing fair," Sebastian snarled. "I want you to initiate a full smear campaign. Social media, paid reviews, influencer attacks. Make people question their product safety."
Isabelle nodded grimly. "Already in progress. But it's expensive."
"I don't care about the cost," Sebastian snapped. "What else?"
