Paul's burning rage turned icy, knuckles white. When he spoke, his voice came out as a guttural snarl that carried scorn equal to ridicule. "You'd make my family your housekeepers and call it magnanimity? Preposterous. Inconceivable. Foolish! I have means—relations. Even if I lose everything, I swear on my glorious house's name that I'll make you fall with me."
A heavy sigh left Adam's lips as he gazed at the mana drifting like tongues of flame from Paul's eyes. The situation was unlike any notion of business he believed in. To him, both parties had to benefit from any agreement. That's why he had offered thirty percent commission to Robert, why he left the egg to Yann—and why he wouldn't rob Paul of his family's residence.
But he knew that talking to someone enraged was pointless.
