"Big words for someone who's about to–"
"Relax a little first."
Damian interrupted Viktor again, his voice carrying a strange weight that made everyone pause.
He stood up slowly and walked around the table with casual confidence until he reached Viktor's seat.
The massive gang leader tensed, ready to attack if this kid made a wrong move.
Damian reached past him and picked up the glass of expensive whiskey sitting on the table in front of Viktor's chair.
He examined it briefly, swirled the amber liquid, then tilted his head back and downed the entire glass in one smooth motion.
Viktor's face went red with rage at the disrespect.
Damian set the empty glass down and made an exaggerated grimace.
"That tastes like absolute shit. The Phoenix is clearly superior. How do you people drink this garbage and pretend it's quality?"
Every face in the room turned ugly with anger and humiliation.
