"Close the door," Aaron ordered, his steady hand never wavering as the pistol remained fixed on Brock. The security guard complied with trembling fingers. The laptop screen's glow cast eerie shadows across the gatehouse walls, illuminating the incriminating evidence for all to see.
Neither guard dared to move. Brock's eyes darted between Aaron and the gun, calculating his chances. Tyson's massive frame seemed to have shrunk, his broad shoulders hunched inward as if trying to make himself smaller.
Sarah remained frozen in her chair, zip ties cutting into her wrists. Her pulse hammered in her ears as Aaron stepped further into the room, his attention entirely focused on the two guards.
"Sir, we can explain-" Brock began, his voice cracking.
"Shut up." Aaron's command sliced through the a
