My Brother Hid a Recording Module Beneath His Daughter’s Dining Chair
“Then why under her chair?” I asked.
He didn’t answer me.
He looked at the door.
“You wanted the calls from the dinners,” Elena said.
“The clients you brought to the house.
The ones who didn’t want to meet at your office.”
Something changed at the corner of Marcus’s mouth.
“I don’t discuss my business with you.”