TPV
If someone dared to take a look at Victor Sanders as he marched into the office building, then they would have noticed the steam coming out of his ears. His face was as hard as an iron log, and his fists were clenched tightly to his sides.
The anger was oozing out of him in violent waves. It could be sensed from metres away, and people working in that building had no death wish, so they remained clear of his way.
Reaching one particular cabin, he pushed the door open roughly before barging inside. A man around his own age, shorter than him in a crisp grey dress was attending a phone call.
Hearing the sounds of the door opening and then closing harshly made him look up at Victor. Instead of shivering in fright, he remained calm. As if he was expecting Victor there and in that same state.
Victor took long strides in his way, then snatched his phone from his hand before ending the call abruptly. He didn't care if it was important.
