The ambiance in the Neor Empire office was tense and almost depressing. The sleek, modern interior seemed to close in on itself under the weight of the chaos that was brewing inside.
Otthen Neor sat at the head of the massive conference table, his expression a mask of barely contained fury, his hands clenched tightly on the armrests of his chair.
Across from him, Mark stood stiffly, his face pale as he delivered the news no one wanted to hear. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice steady but strained. “Sir… those scandals have taken on a life of their own. The storm surrounding you and Cynthia Dupp has—”
“Enough!” Otthen’s voice thundered through the room, cutting Mark off mid-sentence. He shot to his feet, his chair screeching loudly against the floor. His eyes burned
