“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. f*****g 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 f*****g chart. If I could rip him apart here and now, I would f*****g do it without a single thought.
Mr. Carter was immediately on his feet. “I apologize, Mr–”
“Respectfully, Mr. Carter, your apology means s**t to me,” I snarled, forcing my eyes away from the soon-to-be-dead man and to my wife’s father. His eyebrows were pulled tight, sweat beading on the top. “Why is this man still your partner
