Michael's POV
Reagan recoiled as if I had struck him across the face.
Why did he appear wounded by my words?
What had he anticipated? After the chaos he created?
After arriving late and destroying everything? After delivering such a pathetic performance that bordered on sabotage? Did he genuinely believe he could twist my feelings to his advantage?
Those days were over. Finished.
"For whatever it means," Reagan said, his voice breaking, "these past weeks... I poured everything into this deal. I swear I tried—"
I let out a harsh laugh, the taste of betrayal sharp on my tongue. "You poured everything in? Yet you were nowhere to be found."
My tone turned arctic. "Explain to me, boy. What could possibly have been so damn critical that you abandoned a multi-million-dollar negotiation and humiliated everyone connected to your reputation?"
He stared at me, mouth opening and closing without producing a sound.
At last, he whispered, "I... I doubt you would comprehend, Dad."
