"What the hell happened, Jerry? I thought everything was well hidden, so how did the FBI find out?!"
Jerry stood on the far side of the desk, near the large office doors, intentionally keeping his distance from Kieran's growing anger and unchecked rage.
His hands trembled slightly—not out of fear for his safety, but from the gnawing worry that if Kieran's fury boiled over much longer, he might actually lose his job.
The thought weighed heavily on him, tightening in his chest like a knot that refused to loosen.
"Sir, I swear, I don't know how they got the information," Jerry said quickly, his voice tight with urgency.
"I'm just finding out about all of this today—honestly, sir, I'm serious! I had no idea until now."
Kieran, consumed by rage, began hurling everything within reach at Jerry—papers, gadgets, even the heavy crystal plaque that sat on his desk—without a single thought for the millions they'd spent furnishing the office.
