Late Night ~8 Seto [2015 in prgress]

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Seto cursed his non-existent luck . It had to have been nonexistent he reasoned.

Why else would a board meeting be called in the middle of his not-so-official-date with Joey .

And the kicker?

The call was actually was important.

Something for the company he couldn't just blow off like, he had initially planned.

Besides hadn't wheeler said something about needing to leave soon ?

No matter, he needed to focus which was entirely foreign ground, Seto always payed attention.

The current topic was far from anything but riveting. The limo lurched as the driver hit another pothole that he could not of swerved to avoid .

There were a lot of things wrong with Domino city the less privileged class being one of them. Not that, that was what he actually thought but, all those hot shots at the charity dinners he didn't bother to attend did.

A relay who could say how much, of that "dinner and dancing" from, the oh so nice Macons went to its supposed purpose.

Seto watched the brick buildings flyby thru tinted windows.

Outside the night was murky and streets solemnly desolate .

He huffed and resigned himself to the wait thinking back on the event that had ruined the better part of his day .

Almost mockingly the few hours old memory thrust itself before him in want to please.

" We regret to inform you' He'd always hated that phrase. The council men uttered it wiping his forehead of perspiration eyes dilated in fear tone wavering.

Good ..Kaiba though let him be afraid they all should. He garnered some sadistic glee from the cowering.

'Of what Mr. Marcuson I gave strict no interruption orders only overridden in the unfortunate instance of the company falling into a major crisis or state of emergency .

I 'd like to just know how that happened under your careful watch in less than 3 hours in your tender care '

The unmistakable crunch of gravel under car tire, jolted him from his the remembrance .

There was a strong knock on the glass, then a dryly spoken "Mr. Kaiba ".

Seto carefully slipped the photographs back into the folder .

He barely designed them one last sparing glance, before placing the. in his briefcase with a final echoing click .

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