They’re about to throw us out when—
“Stop.” A voice commands and,
Silence.
Every head turns.
The air changes, thick and heavy, dread crawling up my spine before I even see him.
Alex. The dread cold lord of the Ford empire, walking in like he was about to spread doom.
Jake, his PA, following a step behind.
My stomach drops.
He looks like death in human form. His face hard as ice, sharp and unforgiving, like it could kill a mosquito with just a glance.
The MD goes pale. The receptionist stiffens.
The security releases us instantly, backing away like frightened children.
“S-S-Sir Ale—” the MD stammers.
“Save your flattery for idiots, Donald,” Alex says calmly. “It doesn’t faze me.”
He looks at me. Then back at him. “What’s going on?”
“N-Nothing,” the MD rushes out. “Just dealing
