I shrugged off my suit jacket, unfastened my watch, and slowly loosened my tie, my movements unhurried. My gaze locked onto him, cold and indifferent.
"Zavier, do you really think you're that important?"
"You call this an apology?" I scoffed. "Do you think your apology has any value?"
"And what makes you think you're any better than me?"
"I'm the president’s special assistant—second only to one, but above thousands."
"What do you think you are? You're just a sales manager!"
"If you weren’t Hyacinth's husband, you wouldn't even be qualified to speak to me!"
With that, he lunged at me.
I barely lifted a foot before he stumbled backward, but the fool wasn’t done. Gritting his teeth, he charged again, this time seizing my arm in a death grip.
"Hit me," he hissed under his breath. "The more you hit me, the more pathetic you'll look in Hyacinth’s eyes. Once you two get divorced, I’ll take your place!"
I chuckled, suddenly losing interest in fighting him. Instead, I patted his shoulder, my tone laced with mockery.
"Kid, have you been binging too many brain-dead TV dramas? Do you really think the world of the rich is a game?"
"What do you mean?"