The glass in Marcus’s hand was dangerously close to shattering. He gripped the heavy crystal tumbler so tightly his knuckles shone a stark, bloodless white, the expensive bourbon inside sloshing violently against the sides.
"What do you mean, it didn’t work?" Marcus’s voice wasn't a roar; it was a low, jagged hiss that vibrated through the dimly lit office.
Across the mahogany desk, Julian shifted uncomfortably in his leather armchair. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, though his eyes remained wary. "I mean exactly what I said, Marc. The inspectors went in, they did the sweep, and Dominic already had the entire supply chain audited and cleared. Someone tipped him off. Or maybe he’s just that damn meticulous. Either way, the club and company, both operating as usual. The press r
