Meanwhile, in the study.
"Among them," Sinclair leaned back in his leather chair, long legs crossed, his piercingly cold gaze sharp and unguarded.
"Are there any of Jonathan's men?"
"Yes," Ramsey bowed his head, his face etched with self-reproach.
"It was entirely my oversight. I deserve your punishment."
The security of the estate had been entirely under his responsibility.
For enemy spies to infiltrate right under his nose was an unforgivable failure.
Of course, the primary reason for his negligence was simple— Ramsey had never once suspected that seemingly mediocre, utterly unremarkable gentleman.
"The punishment will come when this matter is concluded," Sinclair exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his deep, icy voice laced with an ominous chill.
"Yes," Ramsey lowered his head even further, not daring to meet his employer's gaze.
"Boss, should we inform grandpa about this?"
