Kc Undercover Brett Novels & Stories

"If you're going to burn the house down, Isabella, I’m staying inside to make sure the roof doesn't fall on you." "I don't need a hero," I said. "Too bad," he said, walking toward the door. "You’ve got one anyway. Even if he’s the villain in your story." He left the room without another word. I sat there in the dark, watching the muted television on the wall. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Then, the "Breaking News" banner appeared. The anchor’s voice was silent, but the headline said it all: VANE TRUST EXPOSED: LEAKED FILES REVEAL MASSIVE FRAUD IN STERLING MERGER.

"Whose connections am I relying on?" "Don't play dumb." Tasha leaned closer and raised her voice. "Everyone in the company knows how you got in back then. If you didn't have some shady relationship with that former VP who resigned, do you think you'd still be sitting in this position?" "Exactly," Vinny snickered. "You don't even dress that well—those bags you carry are probably knockoffs, right? Saved all your money to keep a pretty boy on the side?" That smear was impressively vicious.

Zero sense of self preservation. The footsteps kept coming closer and I mentally prepared myself for defense. An uppercut maybe? That sounded deadly and enough to stun the enemy. That was settled but it brought me to my next question, what exactly is an uppercut? I crouched there, praying and hoping for the best when the footsteps stopped a few inches before me. “Come on now, how many times have I told you not to put on those blasted earbuds when working, especially during dinner?” I summoned courage and looked from my hiding spot to find someone who was dressed like a chef talking to another person who I assumed to be one of the servants. The chef had his back turned to me, covering his fac

he said in a soft voice. "You very well may be," Lorena agreed. "Did he vaporize and disappear into thin air? Maybe through the air conditioning vent?" "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "Then tell me how he did it. And even more importantly, where the hell is he?" Everyone had crowded into the room by this time, and they were all demanding answers. Jed wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up. "This all started with your friend," Kurt Cavanaugh pointed out. "Your friend and his fake heart attack."

I finally croaked through my fingers, hoping that those few words wouldn't give it away. “First, you go talk to that fucking Reaver and make sure that he didn’t half ass a single fucking thing. Then you join the search party because his parents know that you and him are dating. And then you attend his funeral when they finally declare him deceased. And don't for even a half a second think that you will get out of any of this. If you want to keep from becoming a suspect, then you make yourself known and willing to do anything you fucking can to help bring him home.” Brett explained.

"Sit down, ladies. I assure you. This is no joke." "Don. You don't have to frighten them. They have every right to think we're making this up," Stu turned his attention to the women. "Katie. Mel. The truth is, Don and I really are actual agents with the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, just like the card says. I have been since my first year of college." "C'mon Stuart. You're a movie critic, for God's sake, you're not a spy. You're gay!" Mel was beginning to feel the effects of the bourbon.

“How do you know all this?” “I hacked into Langton’s personal email and phone. They have been involved with each other for over three years. His dad, though, has worked with the Cartel for ten years. They set you up. The department didn’t authorise you to go undercover, so they found out and fired you. I have removed the warrants on you.” “What warrants?” “Murder, reckless endangerment. Use of a deadly weapon, possession with intent, oh and a DUI.” My blood boils. Fucking murder?

please help! I pretended to have a stomach ache and asked Coach Brian to get me to the medics room. I spotted Uncle Rouge wearing a hat and glasses. Is he on an undercover too? “Hello, Mr. Malcolm. I am Mr. Woods. What is your concern?” He then whispered, “I know your concern, so act natural I will take you to our own restroom here.” The relief washed over me. “I have a stomachache.” I fake coughed and he nodded. He then guided me to the restroom. “I brought your things in advance here so rest assured, go have your shower.”

I was take a shot in the dark, but it landed. His eyes narrowed. “So, Brett remembers?” “She didn’t need to. We found the pictures.” That surprised him. “Kyle was a bastard.” “We can agree on that. I don’t understand, though. Brett was nine… maybe ten years old. Why doesn’t Ricky blame Brett?” He looked at me and smiled. “You don’t know what happened.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “I don’t know that is true, but enlighten me.” Folding my arms, I just glared at him. “Kyle had four girls that he was training to be female versions of himself. Brett is the only one alive.”