Yosef glared at me—sharp, dark, brimming with resentment—before storming out with Yara in his arms.

I stayed rooted to the spot, baffled.

What the hell was that look for?

It was as if he loathed me, blamed me for something unspeakable. Was it because I didn’t let him burn through the two hundred million? Did my refusal really turn me into some kind of enemy in his eyes?

As for Yara, what happened to her afterward, I’ll never ...