Cahill
"You should slow down with that temper of yours," I tell James, pushing away the files on my desk because I am in no mood to go through them.
"Hah! Look who's talking. You, Cahill Laurent Nolan, is one man with the devil's own temper. You're way worse than me." James points out, walking towards me, and stands in front of my desk with his arms folded across his chest.
"Just get out if you'll keep acting like a rowdy toddler." I almost yell through frustration.
And James narrows his eyes at me, before placing his hands on my desk and leaning closer to my face.
"You still haven't answered my question." He shoots me a look. "What are your intentions with Mathilda, because I do know you don't love her."
"As Simone told you, that's none of you damned business." I provide flippantly.
