Noah's POV.
“What?” I exclaimed, leaning forward to my laptop in disbelief. The private investigator I hired some days ago, was here now, telling me a whole bunch of things that I didn't understand properly.
His words hang in the air like a suffocating cloud, making it too hard to breathe.
“Noah,” He says, his voice calm, but firm. “I've uncovered something's, but you're not going to like them.”
I grip the edge of the table, my knuckles white.
“Just tell me, stop beating around the bush.” I told him, because I needed to hear the whole information so I would know what to do about it.
“And it's Mr Sylvester.” I added.
I didn't like anybody that wasn't close to me calling me by name. Hence, the reason I had to assert the use of my father's name. That was more formal, and we were
