Kingston
I returned to the office after a board meeting that had dragged on an hour too long. My patience was hanging by a thread, and all I wanted was five minutes of silence to reset before the next round of chaos. As I neared my office, I caught voices through the partially open door—one low and threatening, the other high-pitched and nervous.
Then I heard it.
“That’s the problem with humans. Trouble from the moment they crawl out of the womb,” the werewolf employee sneered. “This is a company, not a damn daycare. If someone can’t manage their brat, they should just quit.”
I paused, my hand on the door.
“Look at this. Sitting in the CEO’s chair like he owns the place. Get out before someone teaches you what happens to pests who don’t know their place.”
The muscles in my jaw ten
