Chapter 184 The Crash
The phone slammed down harder than necessary against the glass desk. Silas King stood there, breath ragged, rage simmering just beneath the perfect cut of his dark suit. His secretary’s voice had barely finished explaining before he was already reaching for his jacket.
"Caldwell’s retreat?" His voice was low, lethal. His hand clenched so tightly around the keys that the veins in his forearm bulged, the only betrayal of the storm he barely contained.
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