The atmosphere inside the private room tightened for a brief moment.
But soon, Trey relaxed again. He leaned back into his chair, crossed one leg over the other, and let out a faint smile.
"Alright," he said casually. "You've said your piece, and you've vented your anger. Can we talk about your conditions now?"
Khloe looked at him.
There was a smile in his eyes—but beneath it, she saw something all too familiar.
Calculation.
Control.
And the desire to see her bow her head.
"My conditions are simple," Khloe said. "First, Olympus stops all operations against the Morrison Group and the Hunt Group. Second, you tell me where T7 is. Third—"
She paused slightly.
"Go back where you came from. And don't ever appear in front of me again."
Trey froze for a second after hearing her words, then he laughed loudly.
"Khloe," he said, leaning forward slightly, "are you negotiating with me, or giving me an order? Who do you think you are?"
Khloe looked at him without speaking.
The smile on Trey's face faded a little.
"T7?" he repeated. "You think I took it?"
Khloe's brows knitted slightly.
Seeing her reaction, Trey suddenly smiled again.
"So you don't know," he said. "Interesting."
He leaned back into his chair again, his fingers tapping lightly against the table.

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