The Desired End

"Damnit… DAMNIT!"

Francis's hands trembled with fury, the fine crystal wine glass slipping through his fingers and smashing against the opulent office wall. 

His white hair, usually perfectly coiffed, seemed to bristle with his rage, and his blue eyes, cold and calculating, were now wild with anger.

"Three Rankers, THREE!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room. "How could this have happened?"

His secretary, a young woman with an otherwise unflappable demeanor, stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock. 

She'd never seen Francis like this, so unhinged and furious.

His breath heaving, Francis continued to pace the room, recounting the plan that should have been foolproof.