Victor's face had turned an unhealthy shade of red, his hands trembling with barely controlled rage at being called out so directly.
"How dare you speak to us like–"
THUNK.
Damian's knife flashed through the air and embedded itself into the polished table directly in front of Victor, the blade quivering from the force of impact.
The sharp sound echoed through the suddenly silent chamber.
Victor's words died in his throat, his eyes going wide as he stared at the knife mere inches from his hand.
"Learn to listen as well, boy."
Damian's voice was utterly calm, almost conversational, which made it somehow more threatening than if he'd been shouting.
"I wasn't finished speaking yet. You've been running your mouth for the past twenty minutes without interruption. Surely you can extend me the same courtesy for a few seconds."
He leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes fixed on Victor with predatory intensity.
