It was a cloudy day, raining. The rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the glass windows added to the tension that always seemed to follow Cane. As you sat behind the polished oak desk in the conference room of his towering building, you couldn’t help but hate how everything about him seemed so imposing—just like his company, which always overshadowed yours in the finance world.

“Are you listening?” The sharp voice snapped you back to reality. You blinked, meeting Cane’s cold, calculating gaze. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, watching you like a predator.

“Yes,” you replied tersely, though you knew he’d caught you drifting off. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, as if he relished your discomfort.

“Good,” he said smoothly, his voice deceptively calm. “As I was saying, this partnership is crucial. Together, we could corner the financial consulting market—offer services that no other firm can rival. But,” his gaze fixed on you again, sharp and deliberate, “that’s only if certain people can keep up.”

Your jaw tightened, but you refused to react. The room fell into an awkward silence, the tension palpable.

“Funny,” you shot back, your tone firm, “I was under the impression your recent losses in international markets were why you’re so eager for this deal. Am I wrong?”

Cane’s smirk faltered, his jaw tightening briefly before he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone.

“Let me make something clear,” he said. “I don’t need this partnership. But if you want your firm to matter in five years, you do.”