AUTHOR
TOKYO, JAPAN - THE RIMESTONE ESTATE, AOYAMA
It's been two weeks since Shunsuke signed the proposal.
The silence in the Rimestone study was no longer cold and controlled. It was hot and brittle, charged with a tension so sharp it could cut glass.
Shunsuke Rimestone, who never raised his voice, who prided himself on a composure as impenetrable as a Rolex President watch, slammed his hand on the immense oak desk from Poltrona Frau. The sharp crack made the crystal tumbler of whiskey tremble.
"This is a catastrophe!" he snarled, his voice a low, furious rasp that was somehow more terrifying than a shout. He glared across the desk at a cowering Payton. "This 'opportunity' you championed is bleeding us dry! The capital calls are relentless. The projections were a fantasy! There must be a miscalculation, an error somewhere in the initial data!"
