“No! I said that data must be ready today!” Devandra’s voice thundered through the meeting room. His hand slammed onto the wooden table, sending papers scattering.

His staff exchanged pale looks; no one dared speak.

“Sir…” one of them tried to say, “the media team needs extra time to fix—”

“Extra time?” Devandra barked. His eyes flashed. “Do you think the world will give me extra time? Do you think my grandmother will wait patiently?!”

Silence pressed down. Only Devandra’s heavy breathing was audible.

Martin, his closest assistant, found the courage to speak. “Sir, maybe… this isn’t just about the data. Since Mrs. Montgomery’s call, you’ve seemed—”

“Shut up, Martin!”...