ADRIANS POV
“All of them?” I asked, sinking into my chair.
“Yes, boss. All of them,” Ted confirmed, his voice tense.
“What the f**k is going on?” I growled, leaning forward, my palms flat against the desk.
“They think you called it,” Ted said, not meeting my eyes. “My informant at the Monteverros says their youngest son was shot. And they think you called the hit. Somehow, it has all our prints on it.”
“What?” I snapped. “How?”
“I don’t have more details yet. But—”
I raised my hand, cutting Ted off mid-sentence. He stopped talking immediately. I pressed my palms to my face, forcing myself to breathe through the pressure building in my skull.
“Shit.”
I turned my attention to Steven, my legitimate secretary who stood stiffly beside Ted like he didn’t know where to place his hands.
