C9 Chapter 8

Thump.

Thunk.

Thump.

Thunk.

I slammed my fist down on my desk in complete and utter irritation from this man-child, hissing, "Don't you have your own company to run? What the hell are you doing in my office on a Tuesday morning?"

Benedict froze mid-swing with another pen sitting loosely between his fingers. He cocked his head side, feigning innocence