𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑨𝑮𝑵𝑬 𝑩𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑳𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑫 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍, 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. The impact wasn't enough to smother the fury burning in my chest, wasn't enough to silence the betrayal laced in every fucking word of that contract.
"Fanculo!" I spat in Italian, shoving back from the table. [Fuck off] The neatly stacked documents—contracts, legalities, bullshit—were sent flying as I swiped them aside.
The Yamaguchi board meeting had ended, leaving behind nothing but their fucking audacity and a goddamn insult dressed in business formal.
Takashi.
That scheming little shit played me like a goddamn violin. I could already see his smug fucking face, probably laughing his ass off somewhere, knowing damn well he pulled one over on me.