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Marco’s Gun

Author: Maria-Grace
last update Last Updated: 2025-02-22 19:54:41
MARCO MARTIN

Cleo did a stupid thing.

“Get in,” I said to Cleo as soon as she walked up to my car.

Cleo folded her arms across her upper body taking a stubborn stance.

I texted her as soon as the matter came to my table. Her supervisor had called my office today because they felt it was a matter of personal importance and I needed to hear it.

Of course, I needed to hear it. That journalist was simply pointing an accusing finger at me and my brother. And this was all Cleo’s fault.

“Did you come to yell at me too? Because I dont need that,” Cleo said instead.

She didn't reach for the door and I was confused at the fact that she expected me to not yell at her. I had yelled at every person that was above her. Who let her publish that crap in the first place?

Her supervisors were taking the backend of my lashing and she expected me to come here and give her roses and chocolate.

I held the steering wheel, digging my nails into my palm. I had to take a deep breath to keep my a
Maria-Grace

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