How Deep Is His Hatred?

Still standing in front of the publishing house building, Gustav took his smartphone out of his pocket. He had returned to Oslo not to hide from David, but to take care of business as a shareholder.

He didn't like it. He honestly hated the fact that the amount of shares he owned made him the tongue-in-cheek in a clash of giants. If it had depended on him, he would have told them both to go fuck themselves. Well, maybe it did depend, but there was more at stake than just him and his well-being.

"Ursula," he said as soon as he got the connection, "tell your father that I agree to the meeting."

"Excellent," his cousin was pleased. "I'm just talking to him. When are you available?"

"Even now."

"Great! Why don't we have a late lunch then?"

"All right."