Brett sat with his usual casual confidence, one leg draped over the other, pen tapping rhythmically against a notepad as he spoke to someone. The conversation died abruptly as your presence filled the room, replaced by a charged silence.

"What the hell?" his client exclaimed, jumping up, eyes wide. "Ma'am, you must be lost. This is a meeting room!"

The client's incredulous voice hung in the air, but you didn't even glance at him. Your eyes were locked on Brett, whose expression was a mix of curiosity and amusement - an expression that only fueled your anger further.

"Oh, I'm not lost." you said, your voice dangerously level. "I know exactly where I am." You were ready to unleash a torrent of fury, but Brett's smile stopped you. He looked away, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly trying to suppress laughter. His clients, however, weren't so amused. They were on their feet, edging towards the far side of the room, giving you a wide berth.

"Ma'am, you need to leave!" one of them exclaimed. "Lady. are you crazy? You're interrupting business! Are you on drugs? Huh? Get the hell out before I have security come and get you out!"

Brett snickered, and as if on cue, security guards appeared in the doorway. They approached you, and you knew the drill. This wasn't your first rodeo. They were familiar with your... outbursts. They knew that once your feet hit the ground again, you'd likely stop struggling. So, they efficiently, and with practice ease, scooped you up and carried you out of the meeting room.

Dumbass!" you yelled, grabbing a notepad and hurling it at him. It smacked the door instead.

Brett shook his head, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face before he smoothly recovered. He rolled up his sleeves and signed the contract in front of him. "I hope that little disturbance hasn't changed your mind about working with me."

One of the men nodded. "Of course not. And Who "was" that woman, anyway? Was she high?"

Brett chuckled, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.

"My wife"