Novel & Cerita Brett Inside Job

The woman before him seemed like a caricature of entitlement, her demeanor and behavior eerily matching the description his boss, Julian George, had provided. The idea of approaching someone like Maddie with romantic intentions seemed not just absurd but also unthinkable. "Mrs. Maddie Jekins, I'm afraid you're no longer welcome in this store, effective immediately," Daniel declared, his voice firm and authoritative. "You've been added to the blacklist of this store and all other establishments owned by Master Julian George." Maddie's face contorted in outrage, her expression shifting from confidence to shock. "Who is this George person, and does he think he can do this to me?" Maddie demande

The rude way Daniel addressed Jack sent panic through me. Though not yet a Boss, Jack Harris was an heir with significant influence, capable of harming Daniel and his family. I slipped from behind Daniel, squeezing between the two men. “Daniel, please. This man is…” “I’m Miss Reed’s employer, Jack Harris,” Jack casually withdrew his hand while Daniel held his gaze, almost defiantly. “Apologies for the interruption, but I need my favorite nurse back before curfew for her safety.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed. I glanced at his fists, now clenched, and feared the worst. The men behind Jack were alert, clearly armed and ready to protect their boss. I had to get Daniel out of this—I couldn’t drag anyon

The fact that he still had the power to rattle my emotions this badly was ridiculous. He had turned what should have been a simple break into pure turbulence. I dropped into my chair and stared at nothing in particular, jaw clenched so tight it ached. At least the restructuring I pushed through today had been somewhat successful. I had managed to retain quite a few qualified workers who actually deserved to stay. A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. That had to be Tyler. He entered cautiously, worry etched deep into his forehead. Had he heard me losing it through the door?

The way he did everything. Brett operated out of a small office in Chelsea. Third floor of a building that had seen better decades. No sign on the door. No name anywhere. The kind of setup that said I find people who don't want to be found and I prefer nobody finds me either. Marcos had found him in forty eight hours. He stood outside the building on a Tuesday morning with a coffee he didn't drink and watched how Brett arrive at eight seventeen. Unhurried. That kind of man who had moved through the world like he had already know most of what it might throw at him.