Unlawful Shadows | +18

Chapter 3

Third Person's POV

Zander woke up to the bitter taste of anger lingering on his tongue. The early morning sun cast ominous shadows in his room, a reflection of the storm brewing within. His phone buzzed with the worst news possible—a setback in one of his crucial cases. The string of curses that followed could have rattled the toughest of souls. 

'Fucking hell. What does he mean he can't find the alibi? He's a goddamn private detective, is that not his job?' Zander grumbled, feeling fed up with the people he surrounds himself with professionally. 

Fucking useless, the whole lot of them.

Arriving at Tenebris & Associates, he stormed through the glass doors with an intensity that dared anyone to cross his path. The usual hum of the office faded into the background as he headed straight to his office, ignoring the greetings of his staff. A bad day for Zander meant a hurricane for everyone else. Looking at his secretary waiting for him with his coffee, his mood lifted a bit. 'At least someone does some work around here.'

"I want the Operant file in my office. Now." 

"Of course Mr. Tenebris, I'll have it delivered to your office right away."

Drowning himself in the already present files, he started working with a sigh. The day has barely started and he's already exhausted his patience. 

Fucking Lysander, never letting me take a break. Goddamn asshole. 

Halfway through reading the file, he heard a faint knock on the door. 'Must be the Operant files. Took them long enough,' he thought, grumbling out a "Come in."

"Mr. Tenebris, I have the copies you requested." 

Zander looked up, irritation settling into the lines of his face, his jaw clenched with the weight of his discontent. 

"Leave them on the desk and close the door behind you"

He returned to finishing the rest of his paperwork, hoping for no more distractions.

He barely registered the intern as she approached his desk, delivering the file. "Have a great day," he faintly heard, not bothering to reply. The soft thud of the closing door signalled the intern's departure as he signed his name at the end of the paperwork.

One down, and many more to go.

He picked up the Operant file, ready to get it over with as soon as possible. 

Why do I have to do this? Fucking product liability? Couldn't Zephyr take this one instead? He's the only one who seems to relish defending stupid corporations.

The day had been a relentless stream of disappointments, each piece of news darkening his mood further. He scanned through the file, his eyes sharp as a hawk, only to find the insufferable truth—pages missing, a crucial detail omitted. His jaw clenched, the vein on his forehead pulsating with every heartbeat.

Pressing the intercom, he summoned his secretary. Within a few seconds, he heard the sound of footsteps as his secretary entered his office. 

His eyes narrowing on the file, "Find the one responsible," he barked, his voice slicing through the air like a blade.

"Of course, sir. I'll send for them right away."

His secretary scurried away, a mere blur in his stormy wake. 

Who the fuck hires these people? 

The three brothers held exceptionally high standards for their professional associates, driven by their impeccable work ethic. With unwavering dedication, each brother demonstrated ambition, never allowing room for slacking off.