Anthony smiled as if tasting the final course of a long-planned meal.
His fingers tapped the armrest lazily; the cup in his other hand steamed like a prop in some grotesque theater.
Robert felt the words like a punch to the gut.
"Please," Robert said, and the single syllable came out raw.
"Take whatever you want. The project. The prototypes. I'll sign anything...just don't..." His throat closed. He could not say the rest; there were things a man could not bear to barter with.
Anthony's smile widened. "That's sensible. Drop the complaints. Walk away quietly. I'll ensure your name is… forgotten."
He folded one long finger over the rim of his cup.
"In an hour, human resources will have the paperwork. In five hours, I expect a letter on my desk. Consider this a merciful negotiation."
"The ghost possessing Grace..." Robert began, but Anthony cut him off midway.
"I will keep my promise."
