(Jayden)There’s no hesitation in the way the staff greet me. A few nods, murmured “Bonjour, Monsieur Brennan,” or “Goedemorgen,” the Belgian Dutch mixing in seamlessly. With Winona’s help, I’ve got the basics of three languages down.It’s a far cry from the first time I walked in here when half the team still thought I was some overprivileged American with no business running Gus’s empire. They hated me and all thought I would fail.Now? They respect me.I make my way to the executive floor, where Matteo is already waiting by the elevators, arms crossed. I know I’ll cop some fun and games from him. But also know he operates the finance department like a steel vice.“Mon frère! Look who finally remembered where his office is,” he announces in dramatic Italian flair.“Miss me that much?” I smirk, stepping inside the elevator. “Pfft, please,” Matteo scoffs, pressing the button for the top floor. “You flatter yourself. I was enjoying the silence.”The doors close, and Matteo leans agai
Magbasa pa
Mag-log in
