#also sandy you are giving me life
The lack of a reaction from Sandy was frustrating, although he hadn’t known what he’d expected—was Sandy really the kind of man to get bent out of shape or to show his cards? Still, Ollie continued ahead anyway. If he had to be blunt, he’d be blunt. So fucking be it.“The whole thing with Francesca. I was incredulous at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. She came to me outright—outright begging for my forgiveness, and that’s when I knew it was true. She wouldn’t have fought so hard if it weren’t true.”
The images that came to mind pained him: of Francesca, tears streaming down her face, swearing her love. It wasn’t entirely true that she’d begged… in the end, she’d been the one disgusted with him. But he supposed that was the price of protecting oneself and one’s assets. His attention had to be focused on one point at all times, or he’d be trampled beneath the heavy feet of the city he so cherished. He couldn’t afford to divide his attention with things like family and love. Her disgust was really the best thing for both of them.
The thought didn’t make the gaping hole in his chest feel any better.
What would make him feel better, he suspected, was punching Sandy in his smug fucking face. He’d have to be patient, though, or surely his message wouldn’t get across.
"What I’m tryin’ to say here is that you used me as your patsy, and that doesn’t sit well with me.” He drew nearer to Sandy, rounding the man’s desk without getting too close. He didn’t want to start anything yet. “Are you so fucking incompetent that you can’t compete with me like any normal businessman would?”
Okay, so maybe he was a little impatient to get to the part where he got to release the tightly-coiled aggression in his stomach, but was that really such a crime?
It appeared that whatever had transpired between Ollie and Miss Lombardi all but destroyed what remained of the man’s fragile psyche, because he was rambling. Every word that came from his mouth was nonsensical to him. Half-formed thoughts were passing his lips and Sandy couldn’t be arsed to figure out just what it was all supposed to mean.
But then Ollie was closing in on him, and Sandy was feeling far less patient than he had been a few moments ago. He did not want to come to blows with Mr. Oxford, and certainly not in his office, but he’d be damned if let himself be threatened in his own establishment. There was a letter opener sitting on Sandy’s desk, and he did not even attempt to conceal his movement to grab it.
“I didn’t use you as anything, Oxford, and if I wanted to I could destroy you. I don’t know what is going on in your head, and to be truthful, I couldn’t care less, but you will not come into my business and threaten me with this sort of hostility without repercussions.”
Sandy did not move from his seat. He didn’t need to. Ollie was a larger man, but if push came to shove, he could finish him off without having to leave his chair. “You do not want to go down this road, Oxford. Use your fucking head. I don’t want your bitch, I never have, and the sooner you realize this the happier we’re both going to be.”
