Fitz stares at Luka with focused intent, then with a sharp stroke of his hair lets out a stuttered breath. “I-I-I, I never said t-those words, n-not l-like that, and n-not with t-that i-intent.”
Luka rolls his head across his shoulders as hisses with some sort of twisted satisfaction. “Then what did you intent to convey with the atrocities you inflicted upon the business my great-great grandfather built from NOTHING!” he screams as he slams a fist onto the glass table top, sending a cascading crack towards him.
Fitz’s eyes widen with terror as the crack breaks through the table tops edge and a piece of glass lads roughly on his lap. He looks up into Luka’s smiling face as a sea of sweat pours down his brow.
“P-P-Please I-I-I,” he swallows a desperate mouthful of air before clearing his throat and squinting like a blind man towards Luka. “I never meant to disrespect a-anything yo-you’ve done.”
“Then what did you mean to do?” Luka asks with a blank expression upon his face as he flicks a toothpick around in his mouth.
“I meant to kill you,” he says as a demented smile writes itself across his face, as he stares up into Luka’s eyes as they are engulfed by his furrowed brow.