At that moment, Oliver narrowed his eyes as he stared at James, still tied up and weak from everything he had endured. He didn't see the need to play games anymore. His tone was calm, but there was a cold sharpness in it. He didn't want anyone mistaking his intentions or thinking this was about some overdue money.
"If this was about money," Oliver began slowly, "I would have sent someone to hand you a letter. I would have given you a deadline. And if you dared defy me… only then would I have made that personal call."
James didn't even lift his head. His eyes were barely open. His lips were cracked and stained from dried blood. He braced for another slap, another hit, but it never came. Instead, he heard Oliver's next words words that froze his spine.
"This isn't about money," Oliver said flatly. "It's about the line you crossed."
