Noah's POV
"Don, Marco wants to see you. Something about Jake," Caleb told me as I slid the signed contract across the table.
Perfect timing. I didn't even get a chance to breathe before the next fire needed putting out.
It had been three hours since I'd left the estate. I wasn't sure how my little pet was doing in her new cage, but I was sure Jake and my ever-annoying sister had gone crying to my father.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into my father's villa, only to be told Jake and Monica had already left. Figures. That little jerk wouldn't dare face me after the chaos in the shopping mall today.
"Sit," my father ordered. His voice was sharp but calm—the kind of calm that warned you not to push it.
His office always smelled of polished oak and old cigars—two things I'd never liked.
