A silent, choking rage tightened Logan’s chest, but he forced his muscles to relax. He slumped heavily into the high-backed executive chair behind the massive desk, the leather groaning in protest beneath his weight. His forehead restinh on his steepled fingers.
Getting angry won’t solve a damn thing, he thought, his own internal voice a low, gravelly snarl. Anger at Kia, at his brother’s audacious, calculated greed, would only escalate the conflict, handing Kia exactly the volatile reaction he craved. It would turn a negotiation into a feud, and Logan simply didn’t have the resources for that right now.
He ran a hand over his face, the rough stubble rasping against his palm. For a fleeting, agonizing second, he regretted everything. He regretted the pride that had made him think he coul
