Breaking the ice
The fall guy had fallen exactly where he was supposed to.
"You think you won, Adrian?" Victor whispered to the empty, opulent room, his reflection in the glass twisting into a cold, venomous sneer. "You got lucky with a speech. But you still have a contract. And if your little boyfriend thinks he's safe just because my assistant is in a cell..."
Victor set his glass down on the marble counter, picking up a burn phone from his drawer. He dialed a number he had kept in reserve for emergencies a contact deep within the league’s central athletic committee.