Jefferson's POV
"Trouble at home?"
Javier's voice cut through my concentration like a blade, dripping with that smug amusement that made my fingers itch to wrap around his throat. I lifted my gaze from the laptop screen, fixing him with a look that could freeze hell over.
"Keep talking and find out what real trouble looks like."
He threw up his hands in mock surrender, but that irritating smirk never wavered. Smart enough to shut his mouth, at least. The office fell into tense silence, broken only by the steady hum of air conditioning and the occasional creak of leather as he shifted in his chair. The anticipation hung thick between us, waiting for whatever breakthrough he claimed to have discovered.
