The words hit me like a slap.
I froze mid-sentence. "…What?"
Cassian leaned forward, eyes scanning the screen with cold precision.
"This," he repeated, voice flat, "is trash."
My pride shattered into a thousand pieces.
"I, " My throat tightened. "I followed your instructions. I included everything you asked for, "
"You included the data," he interrupted. "But the structure is a mess. The flow is disjointed. Half of these slides are redundant." He scrolled through, and I watched in horror as he pointed out mistake after mistake.
"This chart? The axis labels are wrong. This section on competitive positioning? You buried the lead three slides too late. This risk assessment? It's surface-level at best. Any investor worth their salt will tear it apart in seconds."
Each word was a knife.
"And this, " He tapped the screen. "This color scheme is goddamn hideous."
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to set this entire building on fire with him inside it.
