"No, goddamn it! You listen to me, you little bastard! You'd better find a way to remedy the situation, or I swear," his voice drops further, filling with a malice I never imagined him capable of, "I'll kill you with my own bare hands. Have I made myself clear?" There's another pause before he snaps, "Good. I expect to hear from you in the morning. No later than eight."

Without a goodbye, his phone hits the polished wood desk as if he slammed it down or threw it. I've never seen ...