The knock at Andrew’s penthouse door wasn’t polite—it was sharp, firm, and relentless. The kind of knock that carried both warning and war.
The butler, after answering the door, hurried towards Andrew’s study.
“Sir,” he said, bowing slightly. “You have a visitor.”
Andrew looked up from his desk, brows raised in mild surprise. “Who is it?”
The butler’s voice remained calm. “Mr. Brad Hilton, sir. He insists it’s urgent.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled. “Let him in.”
The butler nodded and exited.
Moments later, Brad walked in with the storm of a man barely holding his fury together. His usual polished calm had been stripped away. His jaw was clenched, and his fists were tight by his sides.
Andrew didn’t stand. “Brad,” he said coolly, “To what
