Duncan spun on his heel, his fury barely contained as he stormed toward the door, ready to walk out and end this farce altogether. His breath was ragged, his hands clenched into fists. But just as he reached for the handle, Randolf's firm grip caught his arm.
"Duncan, wait."
His voice was low but urgent, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. Duncan turned sharply, his eyes blazing with frustration, but Randolf held his ground.
"Grace, could you give us a moment? I need to talk to my client," Randolf requested, his gaze locked onto hers, a silent plea visible in his eyes.
Grace studied him for a beat, then gave a slow nod. "Fine. Text me when you're done. We'll be in my office." She turned to Cammy and gave a subtle gesture. "Let's go."
Without another glance at Duncan, the two women walked out of the meeting room, their heels clicking sharply against the floor—a sound that felt like a final nail in Duncan's coffin.
