Jorgenland, Odenburg.
The atmosphere in the Hudson Company's conference room was heavy.
Zane Patterson sat at one end of the conference table, his fingers pressing against his temples, his brow deeply furrowed.
Across from him, Helena slammed a document onto the table. A mixture of Jorgenlandian and English flew from her lips, a rapid-fire barrage.
"Patterson, I'm sorry, but I've made up my mind. I'm still pulling my investment."
"Helena, we've known each other for so many years. Don't you trust me?"
Helena stood up, planting her hands on the table. "I don't want to dredge up your past right now. But the fact that you ruined our collaboration with Zenith Group because of your personal affairs—that makes me furious.
Patterson, we missed a golden opportunity. Because you let your emotions get in the way, because of all your messy history, this entire company is paying the price."
