The conference room fell silent as Zane rose from his chair. The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows across his face, accentuating the tightness in his jaw. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the polished mahogany table.
Jordan sat across from him, tie loosened, a hint of smugness still lingering in his expression despite the tension that now enveloped the room. The other board members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, eyes darting between the two men.
Zane's voice came out low, controlled, but with an edge that made everyone present instinctively lean back.
"I don't have words for you, Jordan." The statement hung in the air, deceptively simple. "I really don't."
He slowly buttoned his suit jacket, each movement deliberate.
"You thought you could speak to me that way?" Zane's gaze remained fixed on Jordan, who's smile began to falter. "You thought you could address my wife like that and there wouldn't be consequences?"
