Callan’s POV
I take a seat in the plush visitors chair across from Victor Morrison who drops into his own leather executive chair. The room is just what you would expect for someone who works with my father.
The walls are littered with framed certificates and photos of Victor shaking hands with a variety of wealthy clients, beaming at the camera after no doubt screwing over the little person.
The furniture is all dark walnut, trying to exude power and dominance I assume, but just makes me feel like the weasel like man in front of me is compensating for something.
‘So, Callan’ the greasy man in front of me booms, clasping his hands over his stomach that is stretching the buttons on his thousand dollar suit to breaking. ‘You are no doubt here to sign the prenuptial agreement, I must say I……
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