Elijah
I lean back in my chair, glaring at the piles of paperwork on my desk. My fingers tap impatiently against the polished wood, my frustration simmering just below the surface. Ryder’s reckless behaviour has left me cleaning up his mess—a mess that wouldn’t even exist.
That fool remains should’ve been disposed of immediately, not left where they could be found. I understand Ryder’s rage—his mate was nearly killed—but abandoning the evidence like that? Unacceptable. Now some random group has stumbled across the body, and worse, someone took pictures. It’s only a matter of time before the police come sniffing around.
Zack deserved everything Ryder gave him. The bastard dared to lay a hand on Ryder’s mate. Hell, if Ryder hadn’t killed him, I would’ve done worse for even thinking about
