"I don't have the patience to bicker with a child," Jack Brooks said, meticulously wiping each of his fingers with a white napkin. He tossed the soiled cloth onto the table, his expression bored.
"Tell your father, Ted Wolfe, to roll over here. And tell him to do it on his knees."
The ballroom of the Northriver International Hotel froze. It was as if someone had pressed the pause button on reality.
For a few seconds, there was no sound—no breathing, no clinking of glasses, no rustling of fabric. Just absolute, suffocating silence.
Then, the dam broke.
"What the f*ck... did I hear that right?"
"This guy... he isn't just arrogant. He's clinically insane! He's a lunatic!"
"Does he know who Ted Wolfe is? That's the Richest Man in Northriver! He controls half the city's economy! And this
