“What nonsense is this, Mr. Carter?” I asked, still sitting, forcing my claws back in. “Not only is your partner unable to comprehend basic business manners, but he can't keep his damn mouth shut.”

I was fuming. Fucking hell, I was fuming. I wanted to break something, or someone, preferably a blue-eyed bastard.

I've hated–and still hate–a lot of people in my life, and this bastard topped the fucking chart. If I could rip him apart here and now, I would fucking do it without a single thought.

Mr. Carter was immediately on his feet. “I apologize, Mr–”

“Respectfully, Mr. Carter, your apology means shit to me,” I snarled, forcing...