Brett Hand Inside Job Novels & Stories

“I know some guys went with him, but Brett killed those. However, I made a list of some guys that I would put money on that had knowledge of it.” That got my attention. “So you decided to wait until now to bring that up?” I was pissed. Henry nodded like he knew that was coming. “I honestly just remembered. I was trying to remember passwords and shit.” “Show me the list when we get back to the office.” Brett was done eating. “Let’s go.” I said, standing up and pulling Brett up with me. Everyone followed us. However, Stacy was no in the room when the door closed. Henry walked around the desk and opened it. Pulling out a small piece of paper, he handed it to Brett. Whoever was on it, she wasn’t

Brett hung up the phone amidst Carissa's cries. He lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, and pulled out the phone card. He lit it with a lighter and flushed the remaining ashes down the toilet. After he finished, Parker and his men rushed in. Brett didn't struggle and let Parker's men handcuff him. They took him to the interrogation room. Brett admitted that he and Estela had planned the whole thing, except for the part involving Carissa. Parker and Wilson were surprised that Brett had confessed so easily. They thought they would have to use a lot of persuasion.

Alexander The call came in just after I wrapped up a meeting in San Francisco. I ignored it at first—Brett knew better than to interrupt unless it was urgent—but when it rang again, and then a third time, I stepped out of the building and answered. “Brett,” I snapped, already walking toward the curb. “You better have a damn good reason for blowing up my phone.” “We’ve had a situation,” he said. “Near the flagship store. A robbery attempt.”

“During the past four days, did anyone by the name of JD Collins check in?” “Depends on what you will do with the information,” he responded. “I just want to confirm a rumor before I call an assassination hit,” I said in a cold, lethal tone. “Am I going to be implicated?” “Did I ever get you into trouble?” I asked back. “Give me five minutes,” he said before hanging up. Brett stared at me for a long moment and then he shook his head in disapproval. “What?” “If your father knew you’re using some of his employees like that, he will kill you, bro.”

I question him. Brett tightens his grip on him. “Answer her, now.” He growls. “It’s Rebecca; she got in my head. Once I rejected her, she made me promise that I would still do anything she wanted. She had a handle on me. You know I stand by my promises.” “You keep your promises to everyone but me, I see. That night I saved you, you promised me that you would fight to climb the ranks again.” I tusk as I watch him squirm under Brett’s hold. “So even in her death, you are doing her bidding?” I confirm. “Yes.” Panic washes over his face; he knows I can read him like a book.

Unable to catch my breath, my hand clutched at my heart-I recognized every one of those people. And there, on the floor in front of me, was Brett-kneeling. My heart and lungs finally caught up with each other, but the breaths were deep, and the beats were hard. I sat in stunned silence, and Brett's hand still lingered casually on my knee. The crowd was eerily still, and the silence was deafening. He hadn't moved, but the light caught my attention as it reflected off the signature, pale blue box open in his other hand. The fingers that had clutched my heart now covered my mouth, and my eyes found Brett's for the first time.

"Funny how things work out." Cedric kept his voice level. "What do you want." Brett leaned slightly toward the camera. "I want to deal. For real this time. Help me go after the people who left me in that cell while they walked free, and I'll give you something you've needed for a long time without knowing you needed it." "What." Brett looked at him through the screen. Just for a moment something in his expression shifted, not cruelty, not performance. Something more complicated than either of those things.

Brett reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew his phone. He speed-dialed, then lifted the phone to his ear, his eyes locked with mine. "I’m back at the office. Something urgent needs my utmost attention. I'll be running Forty-five minutes late. If that won’t work for Ryant, reschedule." He hung up, casually dropping his phone back in his pocket. "Forty-five whole minutes. I'm definitely going to be fed." Daisy's husky voice sounded with want. Reaching down, Brett adjusted himself, then approached Daisy, his eyes smoldering her whole body. With methodical deliberation, he removed his vest, tie, and shirt.

No one else will ever know. Worried she wouldn't believe me, I raised my hand in a vow, swearing on my own integrity. Only after my repeated promises did Ms. Lawson finally let out a sigh of relief. As she got dressed and was ready to leave, her phone suddenly rang. She took it out of her bag and glanced at the screen. Her expression changed instantly. I craned my neck to peek at the name on the screen. It was a man's name. "Ms. Lawson, is Gavin Tate that boyfriend who couldn't… um… make you feel anything?" I asked.

Why had he shown deference to Sebastian? "Mr. Ballard, I was at the door when I heard that someone was being disrespectful to you." Brett turned, and his gaze swept over the middle-aged men. "Mr. Dunhill, he doesn't belong to the Sartzade Chamber of Commerce, so we—" one of the middle-aged men said, looking fearful. "Not part of the Sartzade Chamber of Commerce?" Brett smiled widely as he walked over to the middle-aged man. Suddenly, he grabbed a bottle of red wine from the table and smashed it on the middle-aged man's head. Wine mingled with blood as it trickled down from the man's head.