Derek's POV
Their faces were stern, their pointed noses aimed directly at us like they were accusing us of some unknown crime we hadn't committed. The air in the grand conference room felt thick and suffocating. Sweat dripped from my palm as the tension kept rising with every passing second. From the corner of my eye, I could see Tatiana fidgeting slightly in her seat. Her usual strong confidence was starting to dwindle under the heavy, judging stares.
I leaned closer to her and whispered softly, "Hi, babe. I think you can do it. If you doubt yourself one more time, you'll make me cry."
She broke into a series of bright laughter that resonated beautifully through the silent conference room, catching everyone off guard. The sound was light, genuine, and surprisingly powerful. She stood up gracefully, straightening her formal wear. Damn, she looked incredible — way better than Becky ever could. Her skirt clung to her hips in all the right places, perfectly showing off her figure, while her top hugged her body beautifully. If we weren't in the middle of such a serious international conference, she would have been begging for mercy from me by now.
"We gather here today to do what's best for our countries," Tatiana began, her voice steady and full of authority, "so I expect us not to be so hostile."
She passed a document around the long table with calm precision. "Prime Minister Issachar, you stopped exporting oil to our country ever since the instabilities occurred. Even though that difficult period is now over, you still hold back. As you can see from these records, there has been no inconsistency in our dealings until the power struggle we faced. So my question is simple: why have you held off?"
Surprise was clearly etched on their faces. They obviously hadn't expected her to take control of the meeting so boldly. I had intentionally left all the heavy tackling to my sweet wife — my own capability in this kind of high-pressure situation was way below hers.
"Even though you seem tough," the Prime Minister replied with a sharp tone, "I'd point this out to you… your inconsistency lately was a big slap to our economy. Prices were drastically raised. We refuse to resume export until you bring a better deal — £50 per ton."
That price increase was ridiculous. I really wanted to slap the table in frustration, but all Tatiana did was smile calmly, completely composed.
"We understand your concern," she said smoothly, "but you must know this increase is insane. Every country has a backup plan. The mere fact that you put all your eggs into one basket seems way too unprofessional. You know we have vital information we can release, and it will cause the end of your pathetic country."
Her voice remained cool and confident. "We offer to pay for the oil as a sign of respect. But if you don't like it, we'll just take it for free. So two options: £10 per ton, or we get it free. If you choose to be tough, that information could be easily leaked."
The sound of the Prime Minister's hand slamming down hard on the table echoed through the room like thunder. It didn't move anyone on our side. In fact, we looked quite delighted. Fumes practically radiated from his nose like a dragon about to transform. I had to bite the inside of my cheek hard to stop myself from bursting into laughter. The last thing I needed was a spanking from Tatiana later — I wouldn't be able to fight back.
The Iranians kept throwing tantrums, trying desperately to negotiate and intimidate us, but it was clear that Tatiana was completely done entertaining them. They needed us far more than we needed them.
After realizing there wouldn't be any easy change in our firm position, the Prime Minister slowly stood up. Speaking with a threatening voice, he declared, "We therefore announce w_"