"You resigned?"
Arik stood just inside Severin's office with his coffee still in one hand, staring at Mezos across the broad black desk.
Morning light entered through the narrow windows overlooking the eastern courtyard, cutting pale stripes across tactical maps, stacked reports, and the resignation Severin had placed directly in the center of his desk as though it were evidence in a criminal investigation.
Mezos folded his arms.
"I attempted to."
Severin leaned back in his chair.
"He is being dramatic."
Mezos turned toward him.
"No. You think I am being dramatic because you have spent two days treating my father like entertainment."
The amusement vanished from Severin's face.
Liam, who had settled into one of the chairs near the wall with an infrastructure report abandoned across his knees, looked between them.
Mezos rarely sounded genuinely angry.
Irritated, certainly.
Exhausted, frequently.
Sarcastic whenever Arik deserved it.
This was different.
