Back at Drubick Edges, Derek paced up and down his office like a man on the brink of madness.
His tie hung loosely around his neck, his face twisted with frustration as he dialled Ruby's number for what felt like the hundredth time.
Each ring tightened the knot in his chest until the all-too-familiar automated voice echoed through the receiver:
'The number you are trying to call is switched off. Please try again later.'
"For God's sake, Ruby!" Derek seethed, raking his fingers through his dishevelled hair. "Why today of all days? One billion dollars, and you choose now to go off the radar, all because of some viral post that has been taken down?"
He glanced at his wristwatch, his jaw tightening. "Three hours late already," he muttered under his breath. "If only I could reach Leon Treshvire directly and secure that investment myself."
