As Fitch stalked down the hallway, he cursed Samuel and Dylan under his breath, convinced neither of them could be trusted.
He pushed open the door, only to nearly collide with Rebecca.
She’d been waiting outside for quite a while, uncertain what Fitch and Dylan were talking about, but too intimidated to interrupt. Now, their eyes met, and Fitch’s gaze widened in surprise.
Normally, Fitch would have stopped to chat, maybe throw out a teasing remark or two. Today, though, he looked at Rebecca as if she were a wolf and he was a rabbit caught in the open. Without so much as a hello, he yanked his cap down, ducked his head, and hurried off at a near run.
Rebecca frowned in confusion. What on earth was that about?
Still, she didn’t dwell on it. She straightened her shoulders and stepped into the office.
Inside, Dylan was at his desk, expression as unreadable as always. Rebecca hesitated, then asked, “Mr. Carter, is Fitch alright today? He seemed… off.”
Dylan barely glanced up, his tone clipped. “It’s nothing. Just some personal business.” He arched an eyebrow as if to say, Weren’t you the one who couldn’t stand Fitch? Why the sudden concern?
Rebecca caught the hint and decided to drop it, moving on to what really mattered. “Sir, I’ve already contacted N.”
Dylan’s gaze sharpened. “And?”
Rebecca hesitated, disappointment in her voice. “N said he won’t work with us. In fact, he’s not interested in working with anyone.”
Dylan’s jaw tightened, irritation flickering across his face. “Rebecca, are you just making excuses because you couldn’t secure the deal?”
She blinked, surprised. “Excuses?”
Dylan leaned back, his voice low and measured. “N made it clear: his technology goes to the highest bidder. If he really didn’t want to collaborate, why make such a show of it?”



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