Greg let out a heavy sigh.
"President Fox, that's not how the math works. The bank's entire operation runs on Tracey's two hundred million. Without her there's no way we turn a profit. If she—"
"There is no 'if'!"
Nelson slammed his palm on the desk.
"She makes her living off that interest every year. When you get right down to it, she owes everything she has to me!"
I rubbed my fingertips together, and the only thing I could manage was a quiet laugh at how pathetic he sounded.
He actually believed he mattered that much.
Believed I survived on the interest from two hundred million, and was fool enough to think I had nowhere else to put it. His rate was the lowest in the city. Any other bank would have paid me three million a year minimum.
But we'd been classmates once, so I'd never bothered to fight him over it.
And all this time he'd convinced himself he was getting the raw deal—that I was the one feeding off him.
Greg was kicked out of the office.
He came through the door looking defeated, then froze when he saw me standing right there.
I gave him a nod.
"Come with me. Stay here working under someone like him, and it won't end well for you."