The tension lingering between the two Ford brothers was suddenly shattered into oblivion as the locks on the inner office doors clicked sharply. Marcus strode into the suite, his arms loaded with a stack of glowing holographic tablets and priority logistics folders, his focus consumed by the papers until he registered the freeze in the air.
Malcolm instantly seized the disruption like a liferaft for his drowning pride. He tore his burning eyes away from Holino, his shoulders squaring into a wall of authority as he roughly smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket.
"Marcus," Malcolm barked, his voice carrying a force that brooked absolutely no argument. "Give me those files. And you—" He spun on his heel, his finger snapping toward Luca, who was still standing with an insufferably serene expression. "Vane, take the third-quarter international server audits to the administrative desk outside immediately. I want every single data discrepancy flagged before noon. Clear the floor boards."
