For Roberto, the stock sale was the final insult.  He had never been a loyal soldier to Midas Corp.  Their takeover of his company had been all but openly hostile, but the price had been too good to pass up, and The City needed his translation algorithms and messaging capability to become what it could be.  Sizemore had never trusted him, and he admitted it was probably with good reason.  But to sell his shares without consulting the board, Roberto included, was unconscionable.  He banged his fist on the table.  “I demand an explanation,” he shouted to the grinning idiot.