Kaden Graham Harrison.
His world is home to billionaires, future presidents, models and children of diplomats.
People who had the power to rule the world before they were even born. He can buy himself everything with the snap of his fingers.
Booze...
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Kaden stands tall in the center of the lavish penthouse, his commanding presence filling the room. The space is bathed in soft, golden light that spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking view of the city, covered in a thin layer of snow, below.
He is dressed in charcoal grey pants that exude a sense of sophisticated elegance but in contrast, his white shirt is buttoned open, his sleeves rolled up, showing the Rolex, casually sitting on his arm. His arm flexes as he leans over the large table, and his focused gaze hones in on the thousands of pictures and documents I cannot make out clearly from how far I am standing away.
His tousled dark hair falls effortlessly across his forehead, adding a touch of casual charm to his otherwise poised appearance. There's a hint of a five o'clock shadow, which only serves to enhance his rugged handsomeness, giving him an air of both maturity and a hint of mystery.
His eyebrows are tightly pulled together, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he studies a paper carefully.
The subtle smile that occasionally tugs at the corners of his mouth reveals a glimmer of confidence, hinting at the assurance he carries in whatever he is up to.
I walk closer, not wanting to disturb his presence but as always he already noticed me before I even stepped into the room.
He looks up from the table through a strand hanging over his forehead, both of his arms pressed onto the wood.
"What is this?" I ask curiously studying the ridiculously overwhelming mix of documents in front of me.
"Take a seat, Aleandra. You have a lot to catch up on."
He clears his throat, then he walks in front of the wooden table, leaning against it. I am sitting down on a chair in front of it, my knees almost brushing against his legs. He looks down at me and without taking his gaze off me, he grabs a file from next to him and hands it to me.
"Oh, and there might be a little problem, so let's put it to the test if you are as smart as you look."
*****
"Let me get this straight," I say finally standing up from my seat and taking a step forward. I lay my palm flat on the table, next to his.
"You were awake the entire night, called a private investigator, got all those files and documents on this married couple and there is literal proof that there is something seriously wrong with this family but we can not go to the police? We cannot do nothing." I say, my voice getting a little louder.
"That's the part I was coming to. The investigator I hired doesn't... well, he works differently."
"His work is illegal," I say, putting my other hand on the other side of him. I cage him in and he gulps, his arms crossed. I raise my brows to get his focus on my question.
