"He…"
Michael gritted his teeth, as he thought about the situation. But he looked at his father, and spat out the rest of the answer:
"That bastard ignored me. He refused to take my call, and today he had his assistant call to ask you to meet him. Damn, that arrogant bastard! He is looking down on me, as if I'm not worthy of meeting him."
His eyes darkening, Michael clenched his fist on top of the backrest of the chair he was standing beside, his resentment moving about his form like smoky darkness.
"I swear I will make him pay someday."
Ethan calmly looked at his son's outburst. He waited for him to calm down, before opening his mouth:
"When?"
The question took Michael aback, and he was forced out of the dark emotions he was swimming in to look at his father with an unbelieving expression. But the gravity he saw in the deep eyes observing him doused any fire he might have been about to open the way for, pushing back down his throat, all the way to his stomach.
