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Relief tinged with remorse

Fernando's POV

"Any news on the employee who moved the company funds for the assistant director?" I asked, as I strode out of the elevator, with Tim Carson, the team leader of the marketing department trailing behind me.

Yesterday, I arrived in Australia late in the evening.

I had been too jetlagged to even take a shower and had flopped on the nearest sofa I saw, the moment I stepped into my penthouse.

"Yes, sir," Tim replied. "They took her into custody yesterday to ask her some questions, and she confessed to creating some foreign accounts for the assistant director under her name."

"Very well then," I mumbled.

My forehead creased in a frown when I saw a small crowd of people–my employees, chatting idly in front of the director's–well, my new office.

"And why exactly are you standing aimlessly in front of my office?" I barked, and they instantly hurried back to their jobs.

Fucking lazy bones. They really knew how to make a good impression. I scoffed, twisting the door knob.

"You sho
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