Pete moved fast, instinct overriding thought as he lunged for the phone, relief flickered across his face before he could stop it.
Voren had a long-standing habit of destroying whatever was within reach when his temper snapped, glass, screens, and even furniture.
That was why Pete had personally ensured that most items in the office, especially Voren's phone, were reinforced or shockproof. It wasn't aesthetics, but a way of saving cost.
By the time Pete straightened, Voren was already on his feet. "I have to go," he said curtly, his voice tight, clipped. There was a dangerous calm to him now, the kind that always came right before the storm. "Call me when the arrangement is made, and I'll catch up with you."
Pete nodded once, wisely choosing not to speak. Voren was already striding toward the door, his long steps eating up the distance as if the walls themselves offended him. The office door swung open and slammed shut behind him.
