Page 145 of Desperate Actions

But I’m not here to convince him of anything.

I’m here to do a job.

To get answers.

Prove my fucking innocence since the man suspects me of being behind the burglary.

“About fucking time,” Angel growls, voice low and full of gravel.

I don’t react.

I don’t flinch.

I refuse to give him the reaction he’s looking for.

“Good evening, Mr. Fury.”

My voice is calm. Steady. Controlled.

His jaw tightens.

I know exactly what he’s doing—poking, prodding, waiting to see if I’ll lose my cool.

If his daughter married a hothead.

But I won’t take the bait.

I never fucking do.

Besides, Aella would probably be pissed if I killed her dad.

His eyes flick over my shoulder, taking in my team.

“Who are they?”

“My men.”

He grunts. “They competent?”

I arch a brow. “Wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

Another grunt.

No praise.

No acknowledgment.

Just the cold, calculating mind of a man who doesn’t trust easily.

That’s fine.

I don’t need his trust.

Or his fucking praise.

I just need to find out who the fuck had the balls to hit the Den and why.

I follow him inside.

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