David's POV
The sound of my name being called pulled me from the fog that had become my constant companion, dragging me back to this suffocating conference room where time seemed to crawl.
"Sir David, I was discussing the quarterly projections when you—"
"How long have we been sitting here?" My voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the department manager mid-sentence.
The room fell silent. Everyone suddenly found their paperwork fascinating, leaving the manager to face my wrath alone. He cleared his throat nervously, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Quite a while, sir."
A bitter laugh escaped me, harsh and empty. "Too fucking long." I pushed back from the table, straightening my jacket with sharp movements. "This meeting is over."
Bradford, the manager, stammered, "But the oil deal still needs—"
"Feel free to finish this discussion without me." My stare could have frozen hell itself, and he wisely closed his mouth. "That's what I thought."
