Madison Clarke had been in real estate long enough to build her little empire—an empire that didn’t just include expensive properties, luxury showrooms, or high-yield investment blocks. It also included people.
People who did the jobs she didn’t want to dirty her own hands with.
People who acted first and asked questions never.
People who solved problems.
So when the confrontation finally erupted, it was no surprise that Madison Clarke’s so-called “associates”—a swarm of towering, broad-shouldered enforcers—moved instantly. Within seconds, twenty or thirty of them surged forward like a dark tide, their heavy boots hammering across the polished marble floor. Each man weighed easily over two hundred pounds, their sheer size radiating aggression.
But Issac Monroe didn’t so much as shift
