Novel & Cerita The Notebook Guy Standing In Front Of House

I declined, “I’m not returning to the office, Rob. We are going together, and right now. Hit the engine!” His lisp parted to argue of course, but after one look at him. He reluctantly faced the wheels, sighing deeply as he started up the engine. “Just so you know, I checked the house.” He reported, “Hudson’s house, and all cameras on the front view of the house are gone! Someone else has collected them, Val” What?

Gustavo stared at the house in front of him. The house has a blend of brown and white on the walls. And it looks really big. Unfortunately there is no fence around the house and the grass around it that extends as if a sign around the house that is rarely cared for. Gustavo's eyes fell on his cell phone and the folder he was using actually ended up in this house. However, until now, Gustavo still hesitated to get out of the car he was driving.

Not to take mine. Not to pull me. Just to rest lightly over my wrist. Warm. Steady. Grounding. I looked at it. Then at him. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. I didn’t pull away. That was the answer. The car came to a stop. Doors opened. Voices outside. Movement. Structure returning. Agent Bennett appeared at the door. “We’re here.” I nodded. Closed the notebook fully this time. Held it close. As I stepped out of the vehicle, the morning air hit differently than before.

Let's see how it goes. Other Side_ [Clinton's Mansion] In a huge room a very good looking handsome man was in his night suit sitting on a chair near his study table. Working on his laptop with full attention. Exactly this is only Noah Clinton, a very famous personality. But , the problem is his full mansion was filled with workers and maids. And so Noah lives alone in his huge mansion. As he was working on his laptop, a phone rang! Noah picked up the call while still he didn't leave his typing work on the laptop.

Or a command center, if someone was dramatic enough and had far too much money. The left wall was filled with bookshelves, not empty decor. There were books on law, security, finance, a few old novels with dark leather spines. In the middle of the room, a large blackwood desk faced the window. On top of it sat a closed laptop, a leather folder, a tablet, and a small screen displaying several outdoor camera feeds from the property. Nathan’s front yard. The gate to the small road. The side of the woods between my house and this one. I stopped in the doorway. “Wow,” I said flatly. “Very normal. No villain aura at all.”

I skipped the courtesy of knocking and pressed my hand to the scanner; thankfully, the door clicked open. Gingerly, I stepped inside, my footstep barely louder than a whisper. Unconsciously, I found myself holding my breath, scouring through the area until my eyes landed on him. It was no surprise my breath hitched as I beheld him. He had his head buried in his laptop, his glasses perched high on his nose, and he had a book beside him where he was actively taking notes. For a moment, I was enraptured by this man, so taken by his environment that everything ceased to exist; his brow furrowed with a focus I could only dream of having.

However, it looked like I was only going to get there looking like I had no idea what I was doing. I slipped my fingers into my bag and brought out the notebook I had written the address of the house. I knew I was in the right estate, I just needed to be sure of the house number. "32." I read aloud, as my eyes skimmed the paper. I sighed and looked up at the houses. I was currently standing in front of house 29, and I could see from the layout of the houses, their lawns, and the environment in total, that this was a typical rich people neighborhood. The Italian who had called me must have been extremely rich, I thought.

It looks impeccable, standing tall and alone, but still imposing, just like its owner. There is a fountain sitting in the middle of the driveway. It is surrounded by Roses of all colors. The house is sitting on a large patch of land that is not too far away from the city. "Mrs. Bianchi, Boss is waiting for you inside" Naim opened her door for her. Until that moment, she didn't realize that the car stopped.

Inside the first page, in Grayson's handwriting “For the ideas that don't belong anywhere else yet.” “..... G ” I held the notebook. I looked at his handwriting. At the three lines. I looked at him. He was standing near the window. Looking at Auremont below. Giving me the moment. "Grayson," I said. He turned. I held up the notebook. He said nothing. Just held my gaze. I walked to him. Stood in front of him. Close enough that the warmth of him was present.

It could be a good thing, too, because if his car was not parked up front, it meant he was in the country. As I approached the house, I saw a blonde woman standing at the front lawn. I haven’t seen her before. She looked to be in her late thirties. “Excuse me, can I help you?” she asked. She was holding a file folder and I read the words ‘Norton Real Estate’ embossed on it. “Uhm, I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked instead. In the months that I lived in this house, Nick never received a visitor or a client here.