"Whatever conflicts exist between you," Mr. Thomas, after decades entrenched in the underworld, was a man who ruled with an iron fist. Compromise wasn't in his nature.
"The one who struck first was you," Mr. Thomas paused deliberately, letting the weight of his words press down like a suffocating fog before continuing.
"However, I, Mr. Thomas, am not an unreasonable man.
Release my son, offer him a sincere apology, and I'm willing to let bygones be bygones.
Consider this matter settled." With that, he lowered his gaze and took a slow, deliberate sip of tea, his eyes darkening imperceptibly.
Mr. Thomas was willing to let it go.
But if Thomas sought revenge… well, that was beyond his control.
His son had intended to strike first—only to be outmaneuvered.
And yet, the other party was at fault? An apology?
Ramsey watched Mr. Thomas's righteous act with icy disdain.
We Americans really are too polite.
This was sheer shamelessness in its purest form.
