The sound of glass smashing can be heard in his office, a high pitched scream following suit before something heavier gets broken. The muscle standing guard outside glance at each other apprehensively before shuffling away from the solid wooden doors which could fly open at any second but they remain closed, the man inside continuing to reign destruction within the confines of his work station. Roman was beyond pissed. His chest heaves as he stands in place, looking down at the shattered remains of his desk - a pile of gleaming mahogany stares right back at him, thousands of dollars worth of furniture ending up worthless in an instant but still his rage is not sated, eyes burning like fire as he glances down at the shattered phone on the floor. Red Hood was supposed to have been his kill. Now that pleasure had been snatched away, just like so many other things he’d wanted in life but was denied, dangled tantalizingly within arm’s reach only for it to end up getting yanked away before he could actually get it. Red Hood ending up dead by another’s hand only rubbed more salt into the wound, souring his mood further that of all people who ended up taking the bastard out, it was the fucking clown.
”Was that fucking it!?!? All this time I’ve been planning something special and I ain’t even the one who does him in??? Fuck that!!” The window shatters as the largest intact fragment of his desk flies out, probably on it’s way to hit some unlucky bastard walking down below. Roman doesn’t care. His eyes remain fixed on the broken screen where the image of a gory splatter was frozen upon the moment he’d broken the thing, heart hammering inside his ribcage like the steady beat of a war drum.
