But he wasn’t raised to concede. Rostova had never taught him how. George Barnes had never taught him. Edward Fleming had let the German chase his king for hours, refusing to resign. He wants to kick the restraints off his legs. He wants to rip them from the table and wrap them around Karpov’s throat. He wants every man and woman in this room, everyone who has raised a finger to him, to watch him rise from this table. He wants to see them fear him.
