There was only one word for the state Priceless was in now: hell. Everything was circling the drain, the company accounts were empty, and the staff lived in fear of losing their jobs at any moment. A well-paying job wasn't easy to come by these days, and losing one with no plan for the future terrified everyone. Worse, management said nothing at all, which left the whole workforce on edge.
Clyde was tearing his hair out searching for solutions. He had to cover all the compensation Priceless owed — to the artists, and for every contract broken because of the company's ruined image. Somehow he scraped together enough to pay off the first investors and artists and stave off their lawsuits; now he had to find a way to keep the company from bankruptcy altogether. At a loss, he rushed to his father, still in the hospital, likewise racking his brain over how to preserve Priceless.
