“What the hell is Ambrose doing here?” Isaac demands from Tyrell.
Tyrell growls, “You do not make demands of me, Alpha.”
“I don’t give a s**t,” Isaac snarls.
Tyrell smooths his hands through his hair. “Go on into the conference room, Alpha Devereaux,” my cousin orders.
“But-“ Isaac sputters.
Tyrell gives him a stern look, and Isaac ushers Victoria and Oliver toward the conference room. Victoria looks back at us with an arrogant smirk. She is wearing a tight green dress that leaves little to the imagination. Oliver sneers as he follows Isaac and Victoria.
Tyrell lets out a tight sigh. “Well, let's get this started, shall we.”
“Where is Darren?” I ask.
“I told him to arrive tomorrow,” Tyrell responds. “I wanted to question them separately. Do you have your evidence?”
Lenore holds
