CHAPTER 46

YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND.

Clark leaned against the edge of the marble table, one hand in his coat pocket, the other gripping a cigarette he never lit.

The room was dim. The only light came from the chandelier above. Across from him, Donovan Grant sat back in the leather chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp.

“You’re wasting time,” Donovan said coldly. “This is the fifth week, Clark.”

“I’m being careful,” Clark replied, his voice flat. “You want Dray Corp to fall, ...