"Numbers don't lie. But people? Always."
Jake's voice was steady, unhurried—like someone reading a truth off a granite wall. The German investor across from him, tall with a square jaw and an inherited coldness in his stare, gave a slow nod.
"They're offering a thirty percent stake in the Singapore corridor," the man said in a low accent, eyeing the amber in his own glass. "But I think they're bluffing."
Jake swirled his Glenfiddich with a tilt of his wrist. "They always are. That's how you keep the pot boiling—you bluff just long enough for someone else to blink first."
The German smirked, his lips barely moving. "You ever blink?"
Jake tilted his glass toward him. "Only when I win."
